Sexy as a Toaster

Online comments can be very strange and I do get my fair share. Some really nice ones and downright evil ones! I wrote a poem inspired by one that was left on a picture on Facebook last night which simply said “Sexy as a toaster”. Now what on earth does that mean? I couldn’t decide if it was derogatory or not but I had a good old chuckle at it and before I knew it…

‘Sexy as a Toaster’

I’ve known some hot kitchen goods in my time

I once had an oven that blew my mind

And a frying pan that never quit

When I cracked a sexy egg in it

And don’t get me started on my fridge

What a sassy big bugger it is!

Teasingly cold and playfully solid

I’m sad when he’s empty – I feel plain horrid

 

My washing machine also rocks

It has me in a spin plus it gives me clean socks

I’ve never had a dishwasher – that’s like whoring out my plates

I caress each one individually in spite of the jealousy that creates

The kettle also does it for me every time without fail

Its steam is as mysterious as a bridal veil

But on the microwave I’m not so keen

I’ve never known a smugger machine!

 

In my mind there is no doubt who will reign supreme

The toaster is probably my wettest dream

Hotter than Racquel Welch or indeed the sun

I know exactly where I’m parking my bun(s)

Come bask in the warmth of its bready glow

Melts me like butter I’d like you to know

‘Am I as sexy as a toaster?’ I coyly request

I suppose I’ll never know but I could hazard a guess