The worst of the fucking worst. Your average dickhead is just a wanker, but when you pull out "Wank Pheasant", it's pretty much the worst thing you can say to a man, the male equivalent of calling a woman a cunt, basically. A man who should have his oxygen privileges revoked.
by AC Sativa December 03, 2016
An extremely ugly female. Not even after 40+ beers at the pub would you consider taking this thing home. If ofcourse your standards do drop for a night. And you woke up with her asleep next to you, with her head on your arm. I recommend chewing your arm off, so you can make a quick escape without waking her up !
by johnny_the_boy July 26, 2005
insult, to make offense; someone or something that dwells in a crotch inside a nest of pubic hair like a pheasant.
mike: u are a bitch!
julie: fuck u!!
mike: no thanx crotch pheasant!
peter: dam i cant get rid of this crotch pheasant!
julie: fuck u!!
mike: no thanx crotch pheasant!
peter: dam i cant get rid of this crotch pheasant!
by samuel adams February 04, 2005
The art of stuffing your lovers anus with the pheasant feathers of a special pheasant down pillow that you have ripped on during the sexual encounter and roughly having Anal sex in spite of the quills. Bleeding is expected on both parties
by Smitty117 December 18, 2015
Me husband is a keeper, he's a very busy man,
I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
All alone and plucking pheasants when I'd rather pluck with him.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's mate
And I'm only plucking pheasants
Cause the pheasant plucker's late.
I'm not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
Though some peasants find it pleasant I'd much rather pluck a duck,
Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven't any grease.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
He has gone out on the tiles,
He only plucked one pheasant
And I'm sitting here with piles.
You have to pluck them fresh, if they're fresh it's not unpleasant,
I knew a man in Dunstable, could pluck a frozen pheasant.
They say the village constable has pheasant plucking sessions
With the vicar of a Sunday 'tween the first and second lessons.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's son,
And I'm only plucking pheasants
Till the pheasant pluckers come.
My good friend Godfrey's most adept, he's really got the knack,
He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
I try and lend a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
It's really all this pheasant plucking keeps us here together.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's friend,
And I'm only plucking pheasants
As a means unto an end.
Me husband's in the woods all day, a-banging with his gun,
If he could hear me heartfelt cries, then surely he would run,
For I've fluff in all me crannies and there's feathers up me nose,
And I'm itchin' in the kitchen' from me head down to me toes.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's wife,
And when we pluck together
It's a pheasant plucking life!
I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
All alone and plucking pheasants when I'd rather pluck with him.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's mate
And I'm only plucking pheasants
Cause the pheasant plucker's late.
I'm not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
Though some peasants find it pleasant I'd much rather pluck a duck,
Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven't any grease.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
He has gone out on the tiles,
He only plucked one pheasant
And I'm sitting here with piles.
You have to pluck them fresh, if they're fresh it's not unpleasant,
I knew a man in Dunstable, could pluck a frozen pheasant.
They say the village constable has pheasant plucking sessions
With the vicar of a Sunday 'tween the first and second lessons.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's son,
And I'm only plucking pheasants
Till the pheasant pluckers come.
My good friend Godfrey's most adept, he's really got the knack,
He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
I try and lend a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
It's really all this pheasant plucking keeps us here together.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's friend,
And I'm only plucking pheasants
As a means unto an end.
Me husband's in the woods all day, a-banging with his gun,
If he could hear me heartfelt cries, then surely he would run,
For I've fluff in all me crannies and there's feathers up me nose,
And I'm itchin' in the kitchen' from me head down to me toes.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's wife,
And when we pluck together
It's a pheasant plucking life!
by Pete December 17, 2004
by Tom Elgie January 30, 2016