JIM and jerusalem

We’re the W.I.
From Westwood-on-Wye,
By no means all twin-sets and pearls.
A financial shortfall
Means we’re gonna bare all.
We’re gonna be “Calendar Girls”

All our money got spent
When our Treasurer went
On a spree with a waiter from Spain.
She deserted her Bert
(He was ever so hurt)
And we never did see her again.

It was Betty’s idea.
She implored, “Have no fear!
We need to – to raise us some funds.”
She said, “Don’t be a prude!
It’s not rude to be nude
And we can cover our bits with some buns.”

Betty doesn’t need buns
Or gateaux or scones
Or anything else that she can bake.
I don’t mean to be mean
But she won’t need cuisine -
You can see she’s as flat as a pancake.

Now Janet’s no bigger,
She’s not got a figure,
Though she makes a nice jam out of pumpkins
And a spicy ragout
(Such a very nice stew)
But I can’t say the same for her dumplings.

They’ll admire Jenny’s baps,
And Mabel’s perhaps,
They’ll be ogling the charms that are Lisa’s;
You’ll need more than meringues
To cover her bangs -
You’d better bake two ten-inch pizzas!

Now Dorothy there
With her double-G pair
Will set all the gents’ pulses racin’
But for modesty’s sake
She’ll need more than just cake -
Bring a washing-up bowl and a basin.

“And what about you?”
They said, “What will you do?”
As I stood looking coy in my curls.
I dress most precisely
And speak ever so nicely;
They think I’m the shy-est of girls.

I come for the crafts
And the fun and the laughs
Not for standing around in my smalls
So when I get undressed
Along with the rest
They’ll see that I’ve really got balls.

You see, my name’s Jim -
Not a “her” but a “him” -
And they’ve never discovered me yet
So there will be surprise
When I ditch my disguise.
I’d best bring a giant baguette.

There’s eleven brave lasses
All baring their assets,
All having a laugh and a joke,
But this warning I’m sending -
As November’s ending -
December’s a “Calendar bloke”!

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