Memories of Helsinki, Finland's Beauteous Capital

Some people think that Helsinki is an exciting city,
Full of life, full of fun, full of gorgeous Finnish birds
With blonde hair (top and bottom with a bit of luck);
However you need a bank loan to buy a drink in a bar
(but you really can't have everything I always say).
Yet there is another side to this Nordic paradise
Believe me, I know; I am still recovering, dear reader,
From the hideous horror I encountered there last year.

I was in the city on Midummer's Eve, trolling near the Old Harbour,
With my ugly hairy Auntie Betty, a kindly, gentle old soul
(albeit physically a not terribly appetising sight,
what with her suppurating spots and short bandy legs),
When a gang of fat smelly drunken Russian tourists,
Full to the brim with extra-strong Finnish vodka,
Descended upon us and, being strangely attracted
By Betty's plainness, chipped yellow teeth and catastrophic breath,
Grabbed her and shoved her into a convenient rubbish bin,
Before rolling said garbage receptacle into the waiting water.

And they left the poor cow there floating in the harbour,
Gurgling like a clogged basin in a public toilet,
And I watched fascinated as the bin and Betty
Sank down inexorably into the murky depths.
O dear God, I shall not be going to Helsinki again
(unless I can persuade my elderly pansy cousin Edgar
to accompany me thence, as I wouldn't mind seeing
the silly old faggot take a one-way trip into the Baltic,
since I am named favourably in his Last Will and Testament)
And in any case too much laughter is bad for me.