Wednesday, 26 August 2009

GEORGINA - A story to give hope to the most desperate of parents

Georgina Pendrille-Beronmilde
Was, truly, a disgusting child.
Despite her parents' upper class
She revelled in the sick and crass.

Georgina would take such delight,
On Daddy's Golf Club's 'Supper Night',
At anything - name what you will -
That made her Parents' guests feel ill.

By far her favourite party trick
Was spouting terms for being sick.
Like "Throwing chunks" or "Heaving Puss"
Or "Driving the porcelain bus"
Or there was "Multi-coloured cough" -
Oh, how she loved to reel them off!

Her parents, fearful of their standing,
Expelled their daughter to the landing.
Alas, it never did much good.
She'd fart as loudly as she could,
Then snigger as the stairs would carry
Her rear-trumpet voluntary -
Reverberating loud and clear,
So everyone downstairs could hear.
Then she would scream and pull her hair.
She drove her poor folks to despair!

Concerned she'd never find a man;
Their fears grew worse when she met Stan.
Although her parents nearly tried
They could not help be horrified.
For Stanley Fotherhithe McShoe
Was not a pleasant thing to view.
Appearances - a minus three,
At birth, fell from the Ugly tree,
Hit every branch on his way down -
Hence Stanley's constipated frown.

A greasy, unattractive yob,
Stan was a sixty carat slob,
Who found it rather hard to speak,
With hoof implanted up his beak.

You could have said Stan was unique.
A one ... no ... two off, so to speak.
Stan's brain had just two cells, you see,
A truly challenged soul was he.
But two cells suited him just right ...
One for the left leg, one for right.
T'was all he'd need to get about
And ... prayed his folks ... to get him out!

Stan had his favourite doggie - Snot,
A scabby mutt that stank like rot.
He followed Stanley everywhere,
Yes, even to the 'you-know-where'!
'T'was here they played Stan's favourite game,
Called "Don't-get-in-my-way-again"!

Stan wasn't given much to sport -
He was not the athletic sort.
His only claim to victory
Was in the distance he could wee.
Why, he could score from five feet dead!
(Unless blocked by his doggie's head).
One always knew when Snot had lost -
His spiky bonce betrayed his cost.

Now, Stanley's folks did not agree
With antics in the lavat'ry,
So, if Stan missed (the rotten cheat)
And tinkled on the toilet seat,
He'd lie and blame it on poor Snot
"'Avin' a jrink ... cuz 'e wuz 'ot".

But Snot's revenge was better still,
He'd pooh in Stanley's Mummy's Dill.
Mummy's herbs were sacrosanct,
But after Snot, they 'sacro-stanked'!
Then Snot would blithely eat his food,
While Stanley got his ear-holes chewed.

Oh, Boy! The tales that I could tell
About this individual!
But one thing that was crystal clear,
Was his effect on 'Georgie-Dear'.

She met Stan in the grocer's shop.
Her eyes did glaze. Her jaw went 'Plop!'.
To notice him was not that hard ...
Fly-swatting with a block of lard.
Georgina didn't seem to care
That, once swat, he just left them there -
Wee leggies thrashing two and fro
And struggling like billy-ho.

They had the most amazing time,
When Stanley took her out to dine.
Stan took her to his favourite place -
A grubby 'caff' called "Stuff-yer-face".
The black bits in the Steak Chasseur
Looked very much like rats' manure.
They would have had "Dish-de-la-house"
But for the smell of gamey mouse.

Georgina found it rather sweet
Stan laid his hanky on her seat.
The hanky - neither clean nor pressed -
When she arose, stuck to her dress.
She didn't even seem to mind
That it glued fast to her behind.
Such details didn't bother her,
She'd found what she'd been searching for.

Yes, giving credit where it's due,
Stan was romantic through and through.
When he proposed, he didn't botch,
(Though spurred on by a quart of Scotch)
And down upon one knee he slumped,
Right in the place where Snot had 'dumped'.

Proposals are a tricky job,
But moreso caked in doggie-'bob'.
Preoccupied with doggie mess,
He didn't hear her answer "Yes".
"Oh, Yes! My love" she did repeat ...
Too late ... he threw up on her feet.

The wedding was a posh affair
And everybody 'In' was there;
With Lord and Lady Wotsisface,
And "Have some more champagne, Your Grace",
And Baroness de Oojiflip
And every courtesy and quip.

Oh, yes. The parents of the bride
Had really, really, REALLY tried -
They'd even laughed at Stanley's joke -
'T'was such a shame - poor Daddy's stroke.

His heart attack was not induced
Until the happy pair produced -
A bonny, bouncing baby girl.
Fresh of face and blond of curl.
But how on earth would this child fare
Considering parental care?
'T'was then the couple thought about
Just how their offspring would turn out ...

You really could expect the worst,
Unless you read on through this verse ...

For transformation then occurred,
Starting with homemade Lemon Curd,
Then, every Sunday, half past three,
The vicar would come round for tea,
Then Coffee Mornings; Bring-and-Buy;
Her Mummy was so proud, she'd cry.
You'd never dream - whoever could? -
What she was like in her childhood.

So, parents all, take comfort, do.
You've done the best that you can do.
Don't end up haggard, grey and lined.
The next time that you feel inclined
To frown upon them in dismay ...
RELAX!!! ... They'll turn out fine ... One day!!


  1. TLW
    I kneel at your feet (very carefully)
    I am not worthy to comment further save to say BRILLIANT!

  2. Many thanks to you, kind sir! Glad you liked it!

  3. You are quite right - we shouldn't worry - after all, we'll get grey and lined anyway!! Great saga and I like a happy ending - aaah!

  4. So you'd realised that it was autobiographical - except that I'm still waiting for the transformation!

  5. one day ? Which Day? Tell me now ,I gotta know ,PLEASE! Is this the most epic of epic poems ever written?I think it may well be.Another Gold Star for Weevo!

  6. Why thank you! But don't look at me if you want to know when kids eventually grow up - cos we're all still waiting. It must be genetic, because my Dad is now in his 80's and still talks about what he's going to do when he grows up - great, isn't it?! Makes for much better parents if they're still capable of being big kids at heart and, as you've already found out, Mum is simply the best there is!! When I hear people say "why can't I have a Mum like that?" I can say, hand on heart, well I have!! So there!!!

  7. We all have to grow old BUT we do not have to grow up

  8. That's my excuse and I shall stick to it until the day I die!!!

  9. Agree with TFI, it would be most helpful if you could give me the exact date,day and hour I can expect the miraculous change to occur!

  10. Dear Weev - I have just read the beautiful comment you left on my blog. It was nearly too much for me - thankyou.

  11. I'm so glad you liked it. Although I liked your poem very much indeed; behind that humorous front that sometimes put on, I detected a little sadness that I felt had no right to be there. I simply wanted to kiss it better!

  12. Dear Weev, if I didn't love you so dearly I'd be sick with envy at your prodigious talent, but as it is I'm just confused, which is far easier to live with. I wonder what I meant by that. Ah well, brilliant poem, m'dear.

  13. Hello there!!! How very nice to hear from you, sir! I must at this point confess that I am having a clear out of writings. I wrote these years ago and had hung on to them in the vain hope of getting published. Age has somewhat matured me and so by publishing them here, I am effectively putting that out of the window - you, one the other hand, should not. I repeat that I would love to see your work published and would buy it like a shot!! Lovely to hear from you again and thanks for stopping by.