Writing couplets after a Christmas dinner
Brings out the best and makes you a winner

But my couplets are bad, my mind is murky:
I'm still so god-damned full of turkey!

But i think it's the creamy Stilton cheese
That makes the words rhyme with such ease

It's really those oysters, with rosemary vinegar
That make you boisterous, and rhyme for longer

It's really the Christmas pud
That makes me so damn good

The turkey, the cheese, the pud and the oyster!
All make me feel that I should hit the gym faster!!

We'd love to make a bet
On just how much you can sweat

Beware of gym memberships, they are for life
Cancelling one is like divorcing your wife

I'm always thankful that the gym is content
With settlements of much less than fifty percent

All you people who've put on some extra pounds, just chill.
I'm sure some good folks will come up with a magical pill.

Penis pills take science, this is no farce,
It takes less effort to put a man on Mars

Keeping my Mars in the fridge
Makes sure the choccy don't squidge

You should throw that Mars away
And have the entire Milky Way

But eating a Galaxy whole
Is much better for the soul