For hours you have blessed us with your learned points of view
On everything from head gaskets to who shot Fu Man Chu.
We now know all there is to know about all three World Wars;
The Inca’s who shot Hitler; UHT patio doors.
We were surprised to be informed that Bono sings with Queen;
But how could we dispute this, after all their gigs you’ve seen.
And what a turn up for the books, to find that Dido’s dead!
Extinct for the last century, as I recall you’d said.
And we had simply no idea that Elton once wed Cher
You’re right, of course; a sorry shock for such a well-matched pair.
Nor did we know, we foolish few, that good old JFK
Made chicken, southern fried and finger-licking good, you say.
It’s been a joy to meet you and I’m so glad that I came
When I might just have stayed at home and licked a window pane.
It’s clear I’m much more stupid than I’d ever realised,
And I soooooo love to spend my evenings being patronised.
Feel free to call me any day and we’ll do lunch some time.
Yes, please do take my number: Got a pen? It’s 9-9-9
Oh dear! Have I offended? Why, I must apologise,
Though now I come to think of it, a 'date' might not be wise.
I’ve come to the conclusion (though it’s rare that I do that)
That you are genuinely a complete and total prat.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Monday, 21 June 2010
In response to yet another challenge that I couldn't write a peom about navel fluff.
To all those young and sprightly things
Seeking that perfect man;
I sympathise with your demise,
But criticise your plan.
You wine and dine, Ad Nauseime
And bill and coo all night.
But how in blazes can you tell
If HE is Mr Right?
You ‘shoop-shoop’ all you want, my dear -
His kiss will tell you nowt!
You’ll need to search much lower, if
You’re ever to find out.
No house, car, eyes, nor bank account
Will tell you quite enough.
Pish-Tush! My dear – the answer’s clear –
It’s in his navel fluff!
At your first chance - disco or dance,
Even if you must shout,
You must demand “Here! In my hand!”
And make him GET IT OUT!
There is a knack to fluff ‘attack’-
Know what you’re looking for.
Dead cookies, crumbs, tortilla chips -
Your outlook’s pretty poor.
Cat Hairs – no way – a Mummy’s Boy!
You’ll find no comfort there.
Grass seed? The Weed!! Retreat at speed –
Been trulling the Au Pair!
Is it ALL fluff? The man’s a puff!
He grooms his Teddy gaily;
Is it all grime? Will he have time -
Working sixteen hours daily?
Do you smell beer? – No WAY, my dear!
He spilt it there last night!
He’ll hock the kids and eat the dog
While spoiling for a fight!
Did you find NONE? You’d better run!
He’s covered all his tracks!
A shifty one who’ll ‘carry on’
Behind our very backs.
No, no; The balance must portray
A steady homely chap
Unmoved by half-dressed bimbo’s who
Cavort across his lap.
PTFE Tape, Superglue,
Show merit of some kind.
A tea-bag or an oven mitt
Are also good to find.
Whatever ‘tis you’re looking for
You’ll find out for yourself
The reason why – at 49 -
I’m left here on the shelf!
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
I just want to hijack my Blog for a moment to wish my 'little' girl a very happy 28th birthday today! We're off to Salisbury for a girl's day out and to meet a pen-friend of hers for coffee. So everybody please pray for sunshine and that my knackered old Ford Galaxy will go the distance!
Monday, 22 March 2010
Today you are told it’s so GOOD to be thin!
And trendy to look like a stick.
Fad diets appear every week, month and year
Which you follow although you fall sick.
You’re force-fed with increasingly perverted ways
Of shedding that last ounce of health.
A nation of rabbits allergic to carrots;
The writers’ sure-fire source of wealth.
A cheese and egg sandwich just isn’t the same,
Without some bat scrotum and chips.
Burnt essence of Panda, freeze dried Salamander,
Did THEY have two stone round their hips?
As you crawl ‘cross the floor, croaking weakly for more
Of that Wombat pube extract, you know
If you take it you’ll surely grow sick, weak and poorly,
But, SOD IT! At least you won’t GROW!!!
Toad testis on toast; Gibbon Snibbles; CAT ROAST!!
The list is as strange as it’s long!
Some things no sane person would feed to a pig
And would rather not keep for the pong!
So WHY DO YOU DO IT? Why punish yourselves?
This quest for perfection’s soooo LAME!
Give up! Just accept it! I’m simply the best
And you’ll NEVER turn out quite the same!
Monday, 22 February 2010
Thursday, 4 February 2010
A recent Government sponsored report has revealed that cheap alcohol has been responsible for the deaths of over 4,000 football hooligans, teenage delinquents and 'chavs' in the last year alone. In light of these appalling figures, a key spokesperson for Tesco Stores told journalists that Britain's major retailers remained united in their determination to improve this 'disappointing' performance, but that 'Every Little Helps'".