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[mb0u906a]

I'd quit my search for Anusol in the Aldi aisles
And hobbled to a pharmacist to seek balm for my piles
But when they saw my sorry state it was straight to the GP
They phoned ahead to warn him of my bum calamity
I'd barely even settled down or got my sour grapes aired
Before the Doc, with twinkling eye, had already declared
"I think you need a specialist," said he, shuffling my notes
"I'll refer you to some experts who've the very whitest coats."
I could hear my black dog barking and I hoped a call'd come soon
But the card went on to say that it'd be that afternoon
And I'd barely left the surgery when an unmarked car arrived
In which my Nobby Stiles saga was unpleasantly revived
With gritted teeth and nail marks scoring the back seat
Until I was delivered and could scramble to my feet
Ushered to a waiting room, white-walled with glaring lights
Where in marched an elfin little Doc in moire fishnet tights
Followed by one cameraman,
Then two,
Then three,
Then four,
And a burly warden, standing cross-armed by the door
A producer and director and a kid with cups of tea
All sidled in with voices low and sideways looks at me
As the medico sanitised and rubbed her hands with verve
A cameraman swooped in with macro lenses to observe
Others in the corner shot the introduction piece
As I signed my image rights and liability release
They all took up their places and I grew a dry-mouthed cough
As the Doctor ordered me to take my trousers off
“Never mind” said she quite brusquely as my cheeks began to blush
Pronouncing erythema and a case of oral thrush
The cameras, sated, wheeled away and took up their new positions
As in came some more unfortunates and their two physicians
Now hell hath no anger like a red-raw haemorrhoid
The red mist was thick upon me, I was verily annoyed
I climbed upon the linen couch and threw my trousers down
And I bared the eye of Sauron as the Docs turned with a frown
The room came to a standstill as their hands went to white faces
“What about this!” I shouted angrily; I’d lost my airs and graces
Revealed my varicose insult in its dreadful throbbing glory
One brave but shaken cameraman still capturing the story
The Docs approached quite gingerly, I still on bended knee
And decided by committee: radiation therapy
So off I went, my end in sight, and slowly I got better
But never saw it on TV after so wrote them off a letter
You couldn’t dream an improved answer from a full-time politician
Than I received in hindsight: twas a broadcast prohibition
Whilst they had no problem showing arseholes on telly
They just didn’t want to show repeats of X-piles in HD

[mb0u906a]

This isn't really finished yet but it has made me cackle quite a bit so here you go.
And yes, I have a very puerile sense of humour.