OO7 - Me?

007 Me?

I sometimes sit in quiet contemplation.
Really get to grips with career evaluation.
Often after far too many beers.
I come to understand why I’ve been wasting all those years.
Wishing not to brag or get ideas above my station..
I’ve realised my calling, my only true vocation ……..
I think I’d be a great James Bond.
With my good looks and sex appeal I really can’t go wrong.
A secret service spy and licenced “ Baddie” killer.
A mascot for Viagra, and compulsive lady thriller.
My Walther PPK in its holster neath mi “ Tux.”
My little trouser monster doing cartwheels in my crutch.
As soon as I set eyes upon a girl.
It’s enough to send my many gadgets in a whirl.
And when it’s time for bed, she’ll be there waiting in my shower.
Another confirmation of my secret pulling power.
My new found sex appeal like a radar out at sea.
Even the bad guy’s wife will do a turn for me.
But beware because her motive will be fowl.
She’ll be in her underwear I’ll just wear a bath towel.
Then the bad guy’s henchmen will discover.
That the bad guy’s wife has found herself a lover.
So they burst into my room and kill the sinner.
They take me to the bad guy’s house, just intime for dinner.
He tells me I’m the man he’s been expecting.
And he’s going to cure my compulsion for the things I’ve been “ Erecting!”
Then he takes me to the shark pool in his cellar.
Then leaves me with the scariest of fella’s.
Who ties me to a float above the fishes.
Who’ll grant me one request or song or perhaps some dying wishes?
But what about the wristwatch on my arm?
Inside it has a razor blade and selection of small arms,
A nuclear device in case of further trouble.
Which turns the bad guy’s home into a pile of mangled rubble.
The royal marine commandos arrive to rescue me.
But I’m floating in a dinghy with a lady out at sea.
It’s just a casual fling again, there’s really nothing in it.
But when I get back home again, I’ll pop down to the clinic.
I’ve decided that I’ve found my true vocation.
Sex in rubber dinghies and duty to our nation.