The P1Woc
You will need to read the following as if you are reading a poem.



THE P1Woc

There is one thing better, than sitting down the pub,
Being in The Woc, a proper friendly club.


All clubs need a darling, we do have a hun,
Miles away in Germany, and we all call her Mum.


We can get you anything, from Motec’s to live ammo,
For engines you need Ren, and bullets speak to Dammo.


Help and assistance, for most things in our life,
For sexual toys and costumes, speak to Daz’s wife.


If the car looks kinda dodgy, and the paint is dull & flaky,
It’s owned by a dik, and people call him Shaky.


Big bloke, walking around, with upper lip all stiff,
This guy comes from Ireland, as is known to us a Phif.


Wearing shades & lipstick, this guy doesn’t mingle,
Council haircut, 5 false teeth and goes by the name of Dingle.


Genital warts, hairy teeth and boasting a 2” kok,
The girls they all love him, and he goes by the name of Doc.


A strange looking thing who loves to race and party,
Oxfam jeans and a hairy lip and goes by the name of Marty.






more to follow