Thursday 9 July 2009

NEVER LET A PILLOCK IN YOUR KITCHEN



You must never let a Pillock in your kitchen
'Cos you know that things'll never be the same
You'll find iPods in your drawers
And you'll hunt for evermore
For all your bits'n'bobs - And WHO'S to blame?!

Now, by 'Pillock' I mean all those in your household
That are not trained or versed in cooking food
Kids; Dogs; Husbands; The Au Pair
They've no business being there
And, Yes Dear, if you must, you may be rude.

Things'll never get put back the way they're s'posed to
And you'll run yourself into a ragged mess
You'll find flour in your fridge
And your lodger on a bridge
'Cos he's had enough, and he can't stand the stress.

Please don't think that you will find a pint of FRESH milk
When you open up your fridge to have a peek
'Cos the moment there's a new'un
They'll have THAT - Green, Puce or Blue'un
And the old one will have curdled by next week.

"How many bags of crisps was it you bought, Dear?
I'd have sworn that you said 80, more or less;
Well, the bloody lot has gawn -
And the 'nanas, cheese and prawn!
Who on earth is it we're feeding - Ten Ton Tess?!"

Oh, yes, Hubby cannot understand your problem
His children always ask before they take.
Well, the buggers didn't peep
Prior to eating half a sheep
And a ton or two of Tuna Pasta Bake!

Now I'm simply not the type for bearing grudges
And my children are the apple of my eye.
But they never wipe up drips
All my best cups now have chips
I've found tin foil in my plants
I've found TEABAGS in my PANTS!
I've found batteries that breed
And a crispy millipede
And they NEVER clean the grill
Leave their mugs out on the cill
Wash their trainers in my sink
Do all SORTS of things that stink!
Dribble all sorts on my floor
I could clean for evermore!
Will the shits ever wash up?
Just what IS it in that cup!?
Oh! To hell with you lot! Go catch germs and DIE!!





9 comments:

  1. Speaking to a woman who once had an alligator in her bath - I am surprised at your sudden yearning for hygiene.
    Does this mean clean the spare bedroom from birds and mice the next time you stay? Will you not eat from my front step, which is the only thing big enough to dish up a rack of wilderbeest on?
    If so, I fear preparations for your visit will take time. Therefore, please allow 27 years notice before your arrival. Bless, Mabs x

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  2. Funnissimo, bravissimo, Weevilissimo.I think my son's mother would concur with much of this witty twitty rhyme.Love the post labels and the picture too :)

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  3. Ah! The Pillock
    The little known marvel of Cornish crossbreeding, that of a Pilchard with a three legged chicken.
    Don't ask me if I have ever tasted one, because I have never been able to catch one.
    I am afraid I have to take exception to your header image as I do not believe in adding food colouring or any other preservatives.
    Three legs has proven to be quite enough

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  4. To MAB:
    Yes, chide me for the 'gator in my bathtub.
    You may make me the source of idle quip.
    But there's one thing you should know,
    When the children moved too slow,
    With 'Nipper' there - they dared not pause to drip!!

    (And after I picked the parrot crap out of your muesli BEFORE I gave it to you - shan't bother next time.

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  5. Dear Professor,
    I cannot possibly relate my own darlings to your Cornish crossbreeds. Forsooth! I last got drunk in 1997 and the Police reports made no mention of any Pilchards or three-legged chickens. (There was that rather distasteful incident in Ye Olde Yakasumis Knocking Shoppe, but I don't want to go into that now - for that matter, I wish I hadn't gone into it then). Notwithstanding the above, all of my darlings were breeched long before the time in question. And thankfully, none of them bear any resemblance to our postman or the collie. Although my daughter has a lisp and has a vast collection of unsorted feltpens.

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  6. At last! At last! You know what it is like to clear up after a battalion of youngsters. There is nothing new in your poem, though I do like it very much and wish I had your talent so I could have written it for my little darlings all those years ago!!

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  7. Your memory is obviously suffering with age, Mother Dearest. As I recall, we were little angels and you rarely had to lift a finger. Alright, do we did tell the odd porky from time to time. I've improved with age, haven't I? (Well, in the porky pie department anyway).

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  8. Oh the utter 'joys' of offspring and their assorted crud ( mainly pink and plastic and just big enough to block the hoover). Love the poem.

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