Bowel Trouble - The Sequel

So I cleaned up my diet
And patched up my arse,
Life became peaceful
And log jams were sparse.

But the good times soon faded
And I'm wholly to blame
For I wed a Korean
And spice was her game.

Now each time that I squat
There's a thunderous roar
And the log man leaps out
And he's worse than before.

He's upgraded his kit
With jig-saws and chisels
And he sets to his task
'til my arse is a sizz-le
-ing mess and the toilet
Erupts all in flame
(And my wife starts to
Fill out the insurance claim),
And he belches, guffaws
And with arse-curdling growls
Reminds me, while packing
My duct full of dowels
'til my digestive organs
Align with my jowls
(At which point he politely
Hands me a towel)
Reminds me, while priming
His jagged pipe-cleaner,
Reminds me he'll censure
Each arse misdemeanour,
Reminds me he'll be there
Without anaesthesia
Whenever I'm bad
To my bowels.

Poem Study Notes:

They say that as you get older you get less childish.

Or maybe they don't.

Anyway if you came here looking for a proper poem, I'm really sorry about this.

Like the last one (over 20 years ago) it just kind of slipped out ...