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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Seven
She never did feel quite right Did poor little Beverley. That’s why when she grew up She changed her name to Jeremy.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Five
“Feel my big gear-stick”, Jeremy leers. “Ah, your famous disappear trick”, His passenger jeers.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Four
Jeremy drove fecklessly And rather recklessly, Causing skid marks on The pants of Clarkson.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Three
Jeans, white shirt and jacket Do not constitute top gear. So Clarkson please pack it All in and just disappear.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Two
I’m not one to stand On ceremony But I would like to stamp On Jeremy.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number One
Clarkson Parks on A double yellow. Thinks he’s A lovable rogue Of a fellow. But he’s not. He’s just A twat.
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Ten
Dear Mr Jeremy, Do you remember me, The chap you knocked over Back in October? Do you recall, Jeremy How I’d the temerity To scatter my extremities When you dismembered me? I hope I didn’t damage Your...
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Jeremy Clarkson Poem Number Eleven
Eeny, Morris Minor, Moe Catch a Clarkson by his toe If he hollers, don’t let go, Eeny, Morris Minor, Moe. Jeremy always seemed Like such a nice bloke, The way he’d drive, The way he spoke (About...
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Clarkson Apologist
Reader, please beware of the Clarkson apologist. Here’s how you can find out if you’ve got one in your midst. He’s the kind of man who says global warming does not exist. Defends his golf club’s ban on...
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