Posts

Showing posts from 2011

BALDY MAN.

He looked in the mirror this morning; he finally had to admit; He hadn’t a lot of hair left; In fact there was only a bit. Once, it was thick; and wavy, he could comb it back in a D.A. At twenty seven he combed it forward, as it was then it started fading away. Nobody seemed to notice; as the Beetles were then all the rage, He just said ‘I have changed my image; to look like those blokes on the stage. When it started to get a lot thinner, he was getting worried; it’s true. So he combed it up from the nape of his neck; it’s the only thing he could do. Then the day arrived when his cover was blown, the wind was really high; It lifted his waves up and down on his head, and they looked like they were waving goodbye. He heard of a new cure for baldness. They said rub chicken muck in your head; He didn’t do the full course of treatment, as the wife would not let him in bed. Now he’s shaven the fuzzy bits from his head, and refrained from wearing a vest; And like those macho men in t

Rocking Away Those Wartime Blues

War babies came in with a bang, in a war when they sang of Bluebirds, Kitbag’s and Farewells. Heroic parents with stories to tell of their Glories in a hell where their brave comrades fell. Flat caps and mack’s and demob suits and very shiny leather boots. They fought for peaceful days. So we got a new craze... We put on our blue swede shoes and danced away those blues. In peace, we did what we pleased. tight trousers, short skirts, youths with long hair, and draped jackets that came down to our knees. We danced a fast dance with an unusual stance. Jive was alive, girls were thrown in the air, they didn't care. as we rocked the dance floor, pony tails in girls hair. We rocked around in blue swede shoes, We rocked away those wartime blues... The clock struck one two three and four, now we are knock, knock, knocking on heavens door. We are rock rock rocking, knocking on. Ah, how good was Freedom? www.ageuk.org.uk

Fiddle-dee, dee.

Under the spreading chestnut tree, I met a wench and she liked me -Hey, ho fiddle-de-de. My hand did wonder above her knee, under the spreading chestnut tree -Hey ho fiddle-dee dee. that wench she had to marry me, and we-well- Hey ho fiddle-dee, dee. I'm a fiddle-dee, dee and a fiddle, de, doe. A fiddler I'll let you know, under the spreading chestnut tree, Keep your daughters under lock and key away from that spreading chestnut tree. Hey ho fiddle-dee, dee, under the spreading chestnut treeeeee.

More of my nonsense.

I've started a tourist firm 4 dare devils. You will be touring Niagara Falls in a barrel; Hand rails fitted for sissies. YIPPEEEEEEEEEEEE! Speak when your spoken to,  that's what my parents said.  But they didn't speak to me so I spoke and was sent to bed. They say that all dogs evolve from wolves. I saw a French Poodle with a curly coat...was it a wolf in sheep's clothing? I believe I can fly...AARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! Magic mushrooms, poppy seeds, long haired hippies with strings of beads... WE ALL LIVED IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE! Er, sorry about that...NURSE! I watched the news one day and a very good investigative journalist asked a Politician a very awkward question....'TRUTHFULLY?' I have been poor all my life, I'll die poor and leave it all to poor friends who will know how to handle it. I know why the Government are raising student fees...They only want the Cream of the Country in their universities... RICH and THIC

A Lincolnshire Poachers Tale.

Where's Sal? She's somewhere out there in the dark. Unseen, unheard by game or or game keeper; she will not bark. When hunting she is silent' those gamekeepers get violent. Is that a person against that tree? Someone watching me? Something moved; or was it the breeze? Blowing branches? I'll have to freeze. Something brushed against my knee. It's Sal, we'll have rabbit for our tea.

Beware The Heat of Mums Kitchen.

Spit, spat, spit goes the bacon, spatter, spitter, spitter, spat, spat. Keep out of Mums Kitchen, or you'll be burnt by that spitting hot fat. Bubble, bubble, bubble goes the water' bubble, lubble. lubble, blubble blob. If you touch your hands will be scolded, then you'll blubber, blubber, sob, sob. The hot meats roast in the oven. sizzle, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. Do not touch that cooker, or you'll be burnt to a frizzle, frazzle, frizzle.

The Elves In The Hawthorn Hedge.

I don't know how true this story is; but I'll tell it to you anyway. It was told to me by my Granddad when we were sitting on a bale of hay. He said he was working in a field, trimming an hawthorn hedge, when he came across a group of elves, tucking into hot meat and veg. They were sitting on toadstools around an old tree stump that someone had sawn long ago, and Granddad said he would not have seen them if he hadn't stooped real low. They wore leaf green pointed hats and grass green clothes, and mud brown boots that turned up at the toes. 'OH!' said Granddad, 'I'm sorry to disturb you; I didn't mean to be rude; I hope I didn't startle you or put you off your food.' The largest of them; who was six inches small said, 'Jesus, tis al right; well not at all.  Would you like to join us in a bite to eat? We have carrots and tatties, and freshly cooked meat.' 'Well, thank you,' said Granddad, 'that's kind of you.&

Billy Drake of the Lake.

Billy Drake of the lake is the greediest duck around, he squabbles with the other ducks for the food around the ground. Billy has got big flat feet,he uses them like paddles. But when he walks outside the lake, he wobbles and he waddles. He wobbles around on those big feet and stumbles after food. If the other ducks get in the way Billy Drake is very rude. 

Hip-Hop Rabbit Finds Fame.

Hip-Hop Rabbit hops all around, and lives in his home deep down in the ground. one day whilst out munching a root, he heard a loud noise and decided to scoot. He hid in a thorn bush and heard a boys voice say, 'I love Rock and Roll, it's Hip, it's my choice. Slung over his shoulder was a shiny guitar' on which he twanged out a tune and sang, 'Lar, lar, lar.' Hip-Hop thought, "What a wonderful sound." He tapped his foot to the tune; on the ground. Thumpitty thump, 'lar, lar, lar, lar. I'm the most hip rabbit around here by far. He sang and he danced all the way home, and came across Norman the Gnome. 'Crikey!,' said Norman, 'what an unusual habit, that's the first time I've seen a Rock and Roll Rabbit.' Now Hip-Hop performs at Woodlands Hop every night, where the animals dance in the hall, that's packed tight. He has a stage name now that he is a star' It's Swivel-Hip-Hop, the most hip

Beaver Sam

There once was a Beaver called Sam, who was busy building a dam. The damn dam burst, caused Sam to curse, and sail away in a pram.

The Chinese Gong.

Wing Wang Wong hit the big brass gong and it went bing, bang, bong, dong. Ching Chung Chang gave the gong a bang, and it went bing, bong, dong clang. Ling Long Lo thought he'd have a go, he took a swing, but he aimed too low' and the gong went, Ho, ho, ho!

Cheerful Ena.

At the zoo there's a laughing hyena, I don't know if you've ever seen her? She cheers everyone up, She's such a cheerful pup. They shout, 'Oh, Look, have you seen her? Hi Ena!'

The Kangaroo With A Didjareedoo

There's Kangaroo I knew, who played tunes on a didjareedoo. Whenever there was a bit of a doo, who was there? That kangaroo, playing tunes on his didjareedoo! I swear its true...er Blue.

laugh at life with gillie: Using our upgraded interface - Blogger Help

laugh at life with gillie: Using our upgraded interface - Blogger Help

Sad, Bad, and Barking Mad.

This is the chapter in my book where Horace meets his future friend and bodyguard. He is an accountant on the run from 1960s London Gangsters and a bungling cop who needs to show his superiors that he is not the idiot they know him to be. The book can be bought from Amazon. 'Sad, Bad and Barking Mad.'  Kilgore the scrap yard dog lay in his tea-chest kennel in the old rope factory courtyard.   His tormentor and archenemy Mogsie the feral cat slept peacefully on the south side of the tiled roof basking in the spring sunshine.   Once the sun had circled around to the west and cast a shadow on the roof, it would be time to have some fun with the dog.   Mogsie stretched, yawned, strolled down the roof and onto the pan tiled wall that surrounded the courtyard where Conan Murphy and son stored their scrap metal and army surplus machinery.  The tormenting feline loped along the seven-foot high wall like a leopard on the limb of a tree.  He arrived at the point opposite Kilgo

Here is an excerpt from my book, 'The Beast from Bogrims Marsh.' It available on Kindle humour shelf. Written by John Robin Gill.;

‘What’s going on?’  Charlie asked.  He startled Pricilla out of her daydream, where she imagined entertaining her new socially conscious friends in her newly acquired home.  Her mug holding hand shot up in a reflex action, she spluttered and choked with tears in her eyes as the tea went down both channels of her gullet; the words Oh fuck crossed her mind.  She sprang up from the armchair. ‘Oh, my god poor Archibald whatever could be the matter with him?  He fell off the sofa…’ she paused; what else could she say?  She could not think of anything, ‘oh my god,’ she wailed, ‘oh my god!’ she repeated, for the want of something else to say.  She threw her arms in the air in mock angst.  She ran around the room screaming and wailing hysterically.  Alcol thought that she was howling in triumph at killing his master. ‘Archibald has had some sort of seizure,’ Pricilla screeched, ‘he just fell from the sofa, what are we going to do.  I think he is going to die.’  She yelled having though

Using our upgraded interface - Blogger Help

Using our upgraded interface - Blogger Help : 'via Blog this'

The Beast From Bogrims Marsh.

For this book you will need lots of tissues, because you will be sad one minute and in tears of laughter for hours. 'THE BEAST FROM BOGRIMS MARSH' Is now in the fictional comedy department of KINDLE. www.amazon.co.uk/kindle-

Dead Game by Claire Kinton & The BWA Publishing Programme: Lincoln Book Festival 2011

Dead Game by Claire Kinton & The BWA Publishing Programme: Lincoln Book Festival 2011 : On Wednesday evening, at 6:30pm, I headed to the Drill Hall in Lincoln City for a New Writers UK evening, part of the Lincoln Book Festiva...

Twitter / @thegrimbarian

Twitter / @thegrimbarian    gilliejohn @hotmail.co.uk   facebook john gill

The Great Nature Show.

Leave your, Game Boy,  PC, and Wii,  come with me, away from all modern triviality. Without plastic beams and plastic brass; and all night clubs with writhing mass.  Where birdsong is top of the charts and creatures have the starring parts. Hedgerow, stream, meadow and tree, make up the stage scenery. The curtain rises on part one  SPRING. Music arrives on feathered wing. Robin Hedge-sparrow, thrush, dipper, wren, are trilling in hedgerow, wood and glen. Skylarks liquid melody flows from high; crystal clear tune from clear blue sky. yellow hammer flutters among the trees, singing, 'little bit of bred and no - cheese. Squirrels and dormice in acrobatic acts, with death defying leaps, they land intact. In athletic games hares run and jump. Toe to toe,  they grunt, hiss and thump. The dipper curtsies and bobs enthusiastically. What a great show; and its all for free. The scenery changes with a more splendid hue. More performers fly in.  SUMMER is due. N

A wizard in the Farmyard

It was all peace and quiet in the farmyard, until a mischievous wizard passed by. He waved his wand at the chickens, then at the pigs in their sty. The farmer yelled, 'Hey! What you doing?' He answered, 'Oh just having fun.' And ran quickly around the farmyard, muttering spells on the run. He laughed as he stood in the gateway. But the farmer could not see the joke. He ran forward to catch hold of the wizard, who vanished in a puff of smoke. Now the farmer got very frightened and rushed home to tell his wife, of the scene that he had just witnessed the likes of which he'd not seen in his life. They went back to look at the farmyard; to see what damage had been done' by that wizard who had been there, saying he was just having fun. The pigs were all in the pigsty; rooting around in the muck. But instead of grunting like pigs normally do, they looked up and started to cluck. The sheep were quacking in the sheep-pen,the ducks were mooing in th

Wrong house :0\

I got drunk one night, staggered towards my home, entered a room. And shouted,  'Where are you wife! What you doing buying all these tacky trinkets? Where's all our nice ornaments?' The woman next door yelled, 'Get out of my house!'  :0\

Cocker Doodle.

Cocker Doodle saw the poodle chase the cat round the farm. Cocker Doodle watched the poodle from his perch where he'd come to no harm.

Humpty Horace.

Humpty, Humpty Horace, the camel from Abber Dabber Doo, was standing one day at an oasis, having a leisurely chew, when a giant of a gnat came and bit him; causing poor Horace such pain, that he shot off across the desert, and swore he'd never go there again. Poor Humpty, Humpty Horace; no wonder he's taken the hump, Not only has he got two humps on his back, he also has a painful lump.

Micky Mog and Big Pat.

A mangy moggie called Micky Mog would fight with anything; even a dog. A great big dog, who they called Big Pat never did like that mangy cat. So she waited in ambush behind a log, thinking to herself, 'I'm a clever dog.' But Micky did what most cats do, he jumped on a log to get a good view. He spotted Pat crouched there, having a titter, jumped  on her back stuck his claws in and bit her. The pain and shock put Pat to flight; she ran and ran until out of sight. Micky hung on all the way, Shouting things like, Yahoo, yee, hoolay!" I don't know what happened after that, because there's been no sighting of dog nor cat.

Dick the highwayman.

Dick was an highwayman on the road to York. He clip clopped along on his trusty horse. Clip-clop clippity-clop, As a Highwayman, Dick was a complete flop. His horse couldn't outrun the Highway Cop. :0\    

Tap to Rap.

Image
Hey yo old git's foller me  tap our plates to new poetry. Stop yo winging rap aint bad, Follow me, the rap granddad. wear your caps; beanies too; If your shy a hood'll do. Tap, tap, tap it's rap Put over the top yo point of view, like Keats and Wordsworth; Tennyson too. Older poets then me or you Musics fast catchy- few! tap those feet hear t words, don't dismiss like verbal turds. Tap, tap to the rap. Not boring ranting crap it's new poetry ITS RAP! Iceberg cool, cool as ice, all the rage raging on the new age. tap, tap to the rap. Hip hop Is that a cop?

A laugh a minute; I think.

We had a cockerel in our yard, he used to crow a lot. Now he does not crow at all; he's in a cooking pot. Ding dong bell pussies in the well, who put him in? I'm not gonna to tell. I told the doctor that I had a whistling in my ears, he said, 'When did you first notice it?'  I said, 'When my dog kept on coming back to me.' I also told him that my ears were painful.  He said, 'Is the pain intense?'   I said, 'Yes; In tents, In the house, outside, everywhere.' He said, 'I think your deaf.' I said, 'Why do I look like Jeff?' They syringed my ears and a pea flew out, so the whistling stopped.   a quarry owner was struggling to make a living cos his business was on the rocks.                      When is a moth a cat? When it is a tiger moth There are no flies on the Welsh. Only dragon flies. Hey, this governme