On days that call for Jaffa Cakes and coffee laced with booze,
There’s just one friend I go to see there’s only one I choose,
She offers worldly-wise advice on push-up bras or sex,
I entertain the both of us with pictures of my ex.
We gossip freely, unabashed, until we see it’s late
And she brings up the subject of our pending double-date.
Straight away my spirit sinks, through gritted teeth I thank her
She’s my mate, she’s really great but her husband is a wanker.
A girl’s night out is always fun with drinks and laughs galore,
She dresses like a prostitute and I dress like a whore,
She hosts a dinner party, and cooks a feast divine
With Daiquiris and Mai Tais to prepare you for the wine,
Beef Wellington with pink insides and chocolate mousse for pud,
With treats to tempt we all indulge in far more than we should.
She’s full of life, the perfect wife, no hostess could out-flank her
She’s my chum, she’s number one but her husband is a wanker
With gladrags on I chug some wine and hubby has a beer
To prepare us for an evening which will certainly be queer
A three-way conversation is the best that we will do
Cos all her husband does is chew and drink and drink and chew.
We’ll dance, he’ll sit, we’ll joke, he’ll frown, examining his feet
And when we laugh, he’ll pick his nose and wipe it on his seat
His breath is rank, his crotch is dank his hair could not be lanker
She’s my friend until the end, but her husband is a wanker.
by Claire Jones