A London Pub Tale

There was a middle aged man from Earls Court
Who liked to put lager down his throat
In a patch of very cold weather
Being at the end of his tether
He sauntered down to North End Street Market
And bought an electric blanket

That night, after being on the piss
He staggered home in a state of bliss
He flicked his blanket on and dropped into bed
It was ‘nice and warm’ as the packing had said
These comforting conditions quickly sent him to sleep
But he forgot to pee and his bowels began to seep

He was awoken by a strange smell and a hissing
As a result of his electric blanket and his pissing
He quickly jumped up with his arse on fire
His bed nearly resembling a funereal pyre
He made it into the shower and doused the flames
Calling himself a stupid bastard amongst other derogatory names

A Magnetto Influence Poem (the first and last rhyming)