Saturday, 10 November 2012

Rhyme time

Timothy Hedgehog Finds a Friend.
 One day when the sun was shining, all the animals were at play. Timothy Hedgehog went to join them, but they nasty things shooed him away. 'Clear off!' They shouted rudely, 'your prickly and play too rough: Why can't you be like the rest of us, all cuddly and covered in fluff?' Poor Timothy went away tearfully, shuffling and snuffling along. He sat on a stone and had a good cry, then from somewhere a voice said, 'What's wrong?' 'Who said that?' asked Timothy, as he could not see anyone around. 'Your sitting on my house.' said the voice, that seemed to come from the ground. Timothy jumped up quickly, from what he thought was a stone, thinking to himself, "well it looks more like a stone than a home." Slowly out of each corner, appeared a very wrinkly leg, then just at slowly at one end, there appeared a thumb shaped wrinkled head. 'Who are you?' asked Tymothy; wiping a tear from his eye. 'I'm Terry Tortoise,' came the answer, 'come now please don't cry. Timothy could not help it; he began to cry again. 'Why on earth do you sob so, are you feeling pain?' Asked Terry, who was getting worried, because Timothy seemed really upset. 'The animals will not play with me,' he told Terry, who said, 'Don't fret.' They will not plat with me either, they say I'm too slow and I'm ugly; They say that I should be like them, fast and fury and cuddly; 'So why don't we play together? That is if you don't run too fast.' 'Well I don't run very fast either, with my little legs I always come last.' Said Timothy who felt more cheerful, having found himself a new friend. His spines would not stick in Terry's shell; in fact they were more likely to bend. Terry is so well mannered and really a very good sport. Though he was not very good looking, Timothy never gave that a thought. When the others saw Terry and Timothy playing and laughing in the sun, they thought they were missing something and came to join in the fun.

 The Scarecrow at Dingle-Doo.

  In field that lies in a Dingle; near the Village of Dingle-Doo. Stands a Scarecrow who scares the crows away with words like "Scram!" and "Boo!" One day he had a problem, with a crow called Jack the Lad, Who had flown down from the City, to drive poor Scarecrow mad. At night when Jack was sleeping, he decided to seek advice, He complained to Oscar; the wise old Owl, "That Jack pinched corn from my field; Twice!" The wise old looked puzzled, and blinked, and sort of frowned, "Who, Who," he asked the scarecrow, then turned his head right round, To where Nutty the Squirrel was sitting, with a nut between his paws. "Tut, tut," said Nutty, "He's back is he, Breaking all our laws." Oscar blinked again. Then said, "Whoo, whoo!" in surprise and disbelief, "I thought he was back in the City, Who, heck, he is a thief." Scarecrow said, "I've booed him and I've shooed him; and I even told him to scram. Still I cannot get rid of him, so I wondered if you have a plan, because if he takes anymore corn our losses will be a lot higher, the farmer will stick bangers in me and put me on the bonfire." "Whoo, whoo, whooo, I know," said Oscar excitedly, "We'll scare him from the field, just you wait and see." It was very early the next morning, when Jack the Lad was out of his nest. Scarecrow saw him coming, and said, "Here he is the pest." Jack circled around the field, screeching at the top of his voice, "I'm Jack the Lad and I'm coming in your field, and you ain't got no choice!" Scarecrow waited in silence, without uttering one boo, or shoo. Jack cheekily strutted towards him. But he only took a step or two, when...BANG, BANG, BANG! went three bangers, really close to where Jack the Lad stood. He dropped a piece of corn from his beak, and flew off to Ravens Wood, All the Crows were panicking; some were hiding behind the trees. Jack said, "Cur, cur, cripes!" and felt poorly and shook at the knees. Scarecrow laughed his head off, then picked it up and put it back on. Then he shouted excitedly, "It worked, It worked, he's gone!" "What a hoot!" said Oscar, "Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hooooooo!" "Tut, tut." said Nutty unimpressed, "Course it worked, I knew it would do." So nowadays, you never hear a scarecrow shout, 'Scram!' or 'Boo!' or 'Shoo!' But you will hear them letting off bangers, like the Scarecrow at Dingle Doo.

Dicky Tapping.
 . Dicky Tapping Dicky Tapping is a woodpecker, a very busy bird, from dawn to dusk, his tap, tap, tap, tap, tapping can be heard, Dicky will not settle for a wet and draughty nest. He tap, tap, taps,from dawn to dusk to make his home the best.

Beaver Sam.
There once was a Beaver called Sam. He was busy building a dam. The damned dam burst. Poor Sam cursed  then sailed away in a pram.

       Sally Black Mutt.
 Sally, Sally Black Mutt went for a stroll, she got a muddy nose sniffing down a hole. Sally, Sally, Back Mutt, what you got there? Let that Bunny Rabbit go, and stop chewing his ear. Sally, Sally Black Mutt, we are fed up of you. God didn't put things on this earth for you to chew. Sally, Sally, Black Mutt has now learnt her lesson. She stuck her nose down a big rats hole and the rat wasn't messing. Jovial Joe and Laughing Lester Jovial Joe the joyful Jester, told a joke to Laughing Lester. Laughing Lester thought it funny and laughed until his eyes were runny. Wilf Wolf the Rotten Rotter Wilf Wolf is a rotten rotter, he chased poor little Olga Otter. Olga was in such a tizzy, she ran and swam and felt quite dizzy. A good job Olga's a good swimmer, or Wilf would have her for his dinner.

laugh at life with gillie: 4 of my comedy rhymes

laugh at life with gillie: 4 of my comedy rhymes: Twas a stormy winter night, the back end of the year, Harold came across a wayside Inn, and went in for a beer. The Landlady was a co...

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

7 of my comedy rhymes

 Our parrot.
Once we had a parrot,
 who wasn't very pleasant,
 he escaped from our window,
 and raped a passing pheasant.



Harold's Wayside Drink.
Twas a stormy winter night, the back end of the year,
Harold came across a wayside Inn, and went in for a beer.
The Landlady was a comely wench with overflowing boobs,
The Landlord kept his cellar good and always cleaned his tubes.

Harold had one drink and then another one; or two,
the seat was comfortable, the company good, so he drank another few.
The fire blazed in the grate, the welcome was also warm.
Whilst outside the cold wind blew, and kicked up a mighty storm.

Although Harold was a married man, he liked a pint of beer,
he imagined he was a youth again, without family; or a care.
He gave the buxom Landlady more attention than he should,
the beer was talking for him, he was in a confident mood.

The Landlord was a large man, but Harold didn't care,
The ale was in, the wits were out, Harold had no fear.                         
Confident enough was he, to do whatever he wished.
The Landlord said, 'get out of her!' Harold said, 'I'm not pished!'

The Landlord said, 'I think you are.' and grabbed him by the collar,
Harold struggled, all in vain, and then began to holler.
The Landlord threw him out, in that dark and stormy winters night,
Harold, shouted, 'Come outshide an short thish out; you big fat shump of shite!'

He staggered home to the wife who wasn't very impressed.
Harold staggered around the room, trying to get undressed.
'Don't think your going to bed with me, in that terrible state.
What do you think your doing coming home this late?'

Vera was a feisty wife, she went and got a broom,
and chased Harold up the stairs and back down from their bedroom.
He wished he had not visited that pub and quaffed down all that beer,
Twas a stormy winter night the back end of that year.

The Mad Poet
Rupert was an aspiring poet,
though the critics didn't want to know it.
He began to rave and tear his hair out,
his lips were formed in a permanent pout.
He wasn't original.

In time he was sectioned, he'd gone out of his mind,
Well, he'd never been in it, I think you will find.
He now sits in his cell dreaming up lots of verse
Of silvery moons and a nocturnal hearse.
frittering lights and a madman's curse.
He was getting original.

In time he was allowed to use sharp pens,
so he wrote of ghostly shapes crossing fog shrouded fens.
The critics read his work and now want to know it.
Rupert's now famous; a celebrated Mad Poet.
Now he's original.


Dads Rap Pack

Come on Dads' now here's the chance,
 join in with Dads' Rap Pack Dance.
Wave your hands up in the air;
 Kids embarrassed? You don't care.

Jump around on spindly legs,
the blood will rush to those old pegs.
Do a roll, you know you can,
spin on the floor like a fresh air fan.

The Mother Rap Packers follow on,
fans of Walter, Fred & John.
Wear your flat cap back to front,
Your on the dancing partner hunt.

Now we've all got on the floor,
youngsters making for the door.
we don't care were having fun,
We are Dads' Rap Packers son.

The pubs all ours now kids gone,
we'll have an old fashioned singalong.
Move you arms like a choo-choo train,
back to your childhood again.

Grab a partner, swing her round,
grab another when she falls to the ground.
Let your daft out, no one cares,
they all know you've had many beers.

Had a good Night? I think so,
in the morning you'll be feeling low.
head is banging, embarrassed too,
it all floods back as you sit on the loo.

Lets Rap, Pack?  ENIT!


The Downfall Of A Food Critic.

There was a food critic who criticised food.
His remarks about it were very rude,
He criticised here, he criticised there,
he even criticised the restaurants beer.
He would not drink and he would not eat.
Then one day in a restaurant he fell off his seat.
The Doctor declared, "he's critically ill,
Through picking at food and not getting his fill."
Now the critic was critical; a bit of a prat,
his limbs were no fatter than those of a gnat.
The Restaurant Chef said, "it served him right,
he came in earlier and criticised all night."
They took him to hospital and tucked him in bed,
and by the next morning he was critically dead.


Acid Sid.

Acid Sid was of disrepute.
He sold drugs to kids in a snazzy suit.
His pockmarked face was in a snarl
as he walked round with his mate Carl.

I put Carl in so that it would rhyme
but it was Sid alone who did the crime.
I chased him off; how he did cough.
He ran until his lungs gave out,
plus, he suffered terribly with chronic gout.

I said, "now look what drugs have done,"
he said, "I'll shoot you with my gun."
The bullet whistled past my head
and hit his mate Carl, who fell down; dead.

I felt guilty of a crime,
I'd introduced Carl to make it rhyme.
Acid Sid said, "I've another bullet."
He touched the trigger, but he didn't pull it.

His acidic lungs gave up on him,
His eyes rolled up, all glazed and dim.
The pain ebbed out of his gout riddled feet,
as he went to hell to face the heat.




There's More Fish in the Sea.

 There are more fish in the sea, so get your tackle out,
Strut your stuff along the Prom, don't take any old trout.
Cast your bait and then you wait, dangling your worm.
Don't be soft, don't give up, you really should stay firm.

Any Port in a storm? That will never do,
whosoever first said that, didn't have a clue.
Keep your sea legs, careful boy, don't panic my son.
Don't rush it, steady now, then you'll have more fun.

No, not her; not for you she looks like a cod.
This ones her, breasts are bare and she's hanging from your rod.
Thrashing around hard to get; don't you be afraid.
Half a woman, half a fish, a Beautiful Mermaid.


The Dodo Hunter.

There was a Dodo hunter,
a man of guile and stealth.
BUT! He could not find a dodo anywhere,
it began to effect his wealth.

He went into the Job Centre
to register for work;
'As a Dodo hunter?'
The clerk asked,
'get out of here you burk'!

'Look!'
says he,
 'I would like some more respect!
 I'm not lazy,
 I'll work,
 and never,
ever,
 be kept!'

 'It's work I want,
 and work I'll get,
 in the job I knows...'
The Clerk looked up, astonished,
'here's a job, shooting nuisance crows.'

'Crows!' he yelled, 'I want a challenge,
Dodo's are MY game.'
Crows are easy, they come so close,
they may as well be tame!'

'Have you ever seen a Dodo?'
the puzzled desk clerk asked.
'I only glimpsed one,
that is the challenge,
makes my job more of a task.'

'Well I have to tell you sir,
Dodo's are extinct...'
'No they're  not...'
'Yes they are!'
'I'd have got one; but I blinked!'

'Where was this, I ask you?'
'I don't like your attitude,
do your job, find me a job;
You've no right to be so rude!'

The Dodo hunter walked away,
slamming the Job Centre door.
'I'll show you,'  he said, 'you jobs-worth;
Nowt but a desk-bound bore!'

He was back the next day. triumphant!
 carrying a bulging sack ,
He said excitedly,
'Remember me?
 Well here I am, I'm back'!
'Oh no! Not you?
What can I do?
How to help you,
 I've not a clue.'

The hunter slammed the sack down on the Desk Clerks desk,
saying,
'Take a look in that,
we caught it yesterday,
 at dusk;
me and my faithful cat!'

The Desk Clerk poked the sack with his Biro pen,
'It cannot be a Dodo they don't exist,
it's probably a farmyard hen.'

'It's a Dodo clever dick,
we tempted it with carrot and stick...'
'Carrot and stick?'
'Stick and carrot, carrot and stick,
I used corn; are you thick?'

The Clerk took a peek in the sack,
startled!
 he jumped back.
'Well I don't know whether you used a stick and carrot,
 but to me that looks like a deceased parrot!'
www.theoldie.co.uk booksmarteditors.com/ mustardweb.org

Saturday, 8 September 2012

laugh at life with gillie: The New Poets of Rap.

laugh at life with gillie: The New Poets of Rap.: Poetical, historical, Record of our time poets of rap truth in rhyme. listen hear don't sneer care young here. Look see not just...

The New Poets of Rap.

Poetical, historical,
Record of our time
poets of rap
truth in rhyme.
listen hear
don't sneer
care
young here.
Look see
not just me
it's he, she,
she and he.
Together stand
apart fall
stand tall
for all.
Listen, listen, listen
eyes open, glisten
in recognition.
Remember Rock?
parents in shock
rock on with rap
close that gap
catch up
get the map.

Saturday, 25 August 2012

The Drill Sergeant.

'Left, left, left right left!'
The Sergeant shouts at us,
'left, left, left right left!'
Then he starts to cuss.

'That man there; that four eyed twit!'
I think he's addressing me.
'What's up with your f***ing legs?
 Are you doing a sea-shanty?'

'Left, left, left right left... HALT!
Stand still that man!
You resemble a French tart,
doing the Can-can!'

'Squar-d... Sta-a-a-and at... EASE!
Come on lift those legs;
your not in the RAF you know!
The army lift them six inches off the floor,
then drive them six feet below!'

'I wish he were six feet below,'
I whisper tongue in cheek.
'Who said that?' the sergeant asked,
'I didn't tell you to speak!'

'For speaking in the ranks,
we'll do it all again,
you may have broken your mothers hearts;
but you won't give me no pain!'

'I'm your mother now,
so get your hair cut son,
if it gets any longer,
you could tie it in a bun!'

'You know that wouldn't suit you,
mother knows what's best.
Come on, stick those chests out!
Left, right, left right,  left!'



Sunday, 19 August 2012

The Old Hippies Song.



Magic mushrooms, poppy seeds,
long haired hippies with strings of beads...
WE ALL LIVED IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE!
Er, sorry about that...NURSE!

Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Do Crows have Crow Bars?

Do crows have Crow Bars?
No; at least I don't think so.
Do Chairs cheer, when the Crows drink beer in Crow Bars?
No; at least I don't think so.
Do Spirits haunt the Crow bars, singing Lively Spirit Songs,
whilst the Chairs cheer and the Crows drink beer in the Crow Bar?
No; at least I don't think so.
  

Wednesday, 4 July 2012

The Scarecrow At Dingle-Doo





In field that lies in a Dingle; near the Village of Dingle-Doo.
Stands a Scarecrow who scares the crows away with words like "Scram!" and "Boo!"

One day he had a problem, with a crow called Jack the Lad,
Who had flown down from the City, to drive poor Scarecrow mad.
At night when Jack was sleeping, he decided to seek advice,
He complained to Oscar; the wise old Owl,
 "That Jack pinched corn from my field; Twice!"

The Wise Old Owl looked puzzled, and blinked, and sort of frowned,
"Who, Who," he asked the scarecrow, then turned his head right round,
To where Nutty the Squirrel was sitting, with a nut between his paws.
"Tut, tut," said Nutty, "He's back is he, Breaking all our laws."

Oscar blinked again. Then said, "Whoo, whoo!" in surprise and disbelief,
"I thought he was back in the City, Who, heck, he is a thief."

Scarecrow said, "I've booed him and I've shooed him; and I even told him to scram.
Still I cannot get rid of him, so I wondered if you have a plan,
because if he takes anymore corn our losses will be a lot higher,
the farmer will stick bangers in me and put me on the bonfire."

"Whoo, whoo, whooo, I know," said Oscar excitedly,
"We'll scare him from the field, just you wait and see."

It was very early next morning, when Jack the Lad was out of his nest.
Scarecrow saw him coming, and said, "Here he is the pest."

Jack circled around the field, screeching at the top of his voice,
"I'm Jack the Lad and I'm coming in your field, and you ain't got no choice!"

Scarecrow waited in silence, without uttering one boo, or shoo.
Jack cheekily strutted towards him. But he only took a step or two,
when...BANG, BANG, BANG! went three bangers, really close to where Jack the Lad stood.
He dropped a piece of corn from his beak, and flew off to Ravens Wood,
All the Crows were panicking; some were hiding behind the trees.
Jack said, "Cur, cur, cripes!" and felt poorly and shook at the knees.

Scarecrow laughed his head off, then picked it up and put it back on.
Then he shouted excitedly, "It worked, It worked, he's gone!"

"What a hoot!" said Oscar, "Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hooooooo!"
"Tut, tut." said Nutty unimpressed, "Course it worked, I knew it would do."

So nowadays, you never hear a scarecrow shout, 'Scram!' or 'Boo!' or 'Shoo!'
But you will hear them letting off bangers, like the Scarecrow at Dingle Doo.


.

Thursday, 24 May 2012

No Pressure, All Pleasure. Generation Gap Rap.


    There'd been a war
we were poor.
Hand me down
we didn't frown.
Not new; but clean.
No money, not mean.

Flat caps for lads,
one of dads.
Girls in mums skirt,
Boys in dads shirt.
Violins? Its sad?
No not that bad.

No pleasure?
No pressure!
Make do and mend,
No up to date trend.
A stitch in time,
saved Mam nine.

No pressure,
all pleasure!
Grew our own food,
it tasted good.

No credit,
No debit.
We didn't complain,
No cars, just a bus, sometimes a train.

Grew up, its Rock,
parents in shock.
Rock and Roll,
Blues and all that jazz.
Punk and other razzmatazz.

Young no more,
Grim Reaper rapping on the door.
Today we have Rap,
I'm in a generation gap.
Left behind without a map.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

The Sex Mad Parrot.

Once, we had a parrot, who wasn't very pleasant,
He escaped out our window, and raped a passing Pheasant.
He strutted off to the local zoo,
where he had his way with a Cockatoo;
 -or three-.
Then off he flew, up in the sky so blue,
where he bit off more than he could chew.

He espied a lady eagle flying by,
serenely floating in the sky.
Our parrot thought what a beautiful sight.
I've never seen such a beauty in flight.
How did he know she was a man eater,
when he flapped up cheekily to meet her?
He didn't know she was a murderous freak,
with massive talons and nasty beak.
That was the end of our sex mad sinner,
the eagle had him for her dinner.
.




Wednesday, 14 March 2012

Harold's Storm In A Beer Glass.


 Twas a stormy winter night, the back end of the year,
Harold came across a wayside Inn, and went in for a beer.
The Landlady was a comely wench with overflowing boobs,
The Landlord kept his cellar good and always cleaned his tubes.

Harold had one drink and then another one; or two,
the seat was comfortable, the company good, so he drank another few.
The fire blazed in the grate, the welcome was also warm.
Whilst outside the cold wind blew, and kicked up a mighty storm.

Although Harold was a married man, he liked a pint of beer,
he imagined he was a youth again, without family; or a care.
He gave the buxom Landlady more attention than he should,
the beer was talking for him, he was in a confident mood.

The Landlord was a large man, but Harold didn't care,
The ale was in, the wits were out, Harold had no fear.
Confident enough was he, to do whatever he wished.
The Landlord said, 'get out of her!' Harold said, 'I'm not pished!'

The Landlord said, 'I think you are.' and grabbed him by the collar,
Harold struggled, all in vain, and then began to holler.
The Landlord threw him out, in that dark and stormy winters night,
Harold, shouted, 'Come outshide an short thish out; you big fat shump of shite!'

He staggered home to the wife who wasn't very impressed.
Harold staggered around the room, trying to get undressed.
'Don't think your going to bed with me, in that terrible state.
What do you think your doing coming home this late?'

Vera was a feisty wife, she went and got a broom,
and chased Harold up the stairs and back down from their bedroom.
He wished he had not visited that pub and quaffed down all that beer,
Twas a stormy winter night the back end of that year.

Friday, 9 March 2012

Daddies Gone. A Country and Western Song; Well, sort of.


My Marmy brought me up alone,
I never met Daddy, he had gone.
Oh, how my mammy really does miss,
a cuddle off daddy, or a sloppy kiss.

I went to jail and met Daddy there,
told him about Mammy, but he didn't care.
And it's all pure misery and thuggery in there.
But I could fight my own battles; I had no fear.

My doggy he died before I came out,
My lips are a trembling and a permanent pout.
I miss that old doggy, he was my friend,
now I feel more miserable my heart will not mend.

I met and fell for Mary Lou,
but her love for me was never true.
Me and my Mammy were once more alone,
my doggy has died and Mary Lou's gone.

Whilst in a saloon having a beer,
an ugly galoot gave me a glare.
I hit him hard and he hit me back,
A voice that sounded like mine yelled, 'hit him Jack!'

It was my Daddy cheering me on.
Some one said, 'is that your lad John?'
He proudly said 'Yes', and then clutched his chest,
he fell to the floor a tearing at his vest.

Chorus,
Misery, misery, life's just one long misery. 

Shit happens. 











Sunday, 19 February 2012

Why I started this blog.

I started this blog because I have always wanted to make people laugh.  I have always been the joker of the pack.
I seek out the funniest people on twitter because I love a good laugh, I don't care how many people follow me as long as they have a good sense of humour; my favorite tweeters are those with a witty repertoire and genuinely talented people. I follow too many to mention them here, but check me out on twitter and you will see what I mean.
 When my 53 year old wife died of  cancer I could hardly face life. I noticed that if I watched comedy video's I relaxed, so I began to make up my own funny stories again to cheer myself up; the first comic to start me laughing again was Jack Dee. I couldn't sleep so I was flicking the remote around the TV programmes late at night and noticed that Jack was on Celebrity Big Brother. I saw the funny side of the way he looked at his fellow inmates and I warmed to him when he told the flirting women that he loved his wife, and then when he started teasing the security dogs by banging on the doors and climbed up into the attic, found a way out and escaped. I found myself laughing once again.  So if you ever read this Blog Jack, you will see that you cured a grieving man of depression; and caused me to want to cheer others up.  I always had a knack of making up rhyming stories, I used to make them up for my three sons when they were small and so I have included some of them in my Kiddies Rhymes.  I hope whoever reads my blog laughs at my jokes and see's the funny side of life when things seem to be going wrong all around them. I would love to be a comedy writer for TV or Radio. I would like to work with other comedy writers if they would have me.


Wednesday, 8 February 2012

How to woo a Mermaid. ( sea shanty.)

 Oh didddly oh, Oh! diddly Oh ;
Here's a sea shanty you may not know.

There are more fish in the sea, so get your tackle out,
Strut your stuff along the deck, don't take any old trout.
Cast your bait and then you wait, dangling your worm.
Don't be soft, don't give up, you really should stay firm.

Any Port in a storm? That will never do,
whosoever first said that, didn't have a clue.
Keep your sea legs, careful boy, don't panic my son.
Don't rush it, steady now, then you'll have more fun.

No, not her; not for you, she looks like a cod.
This ones her,
 breasts are bare and she's hanging from your rod.
Thrashing around hard to get; don't you be afraid.
Half a woman, half a fish, a Beautiful Mermaid.
 Oh, diddly-oh  Oh- diddly oh,
oh-diddly oh diddly oh- oh-oh. ohhhhhh!

Friday, 3 February 2012

WE ARE ALL IN IT TOGETHER.

WE ARE ALL IN IT TOGETHER! YES, WERE ALL IN THE SHIT!
Were all in it together, lets all do our bit.
You'll get no more pension they can't afford it,
You'll work till your worn out, but try to keep fit.


YES! WE ARE ALL IN IT TOGETHER; WERE ALL IN THE SHIT!
So the cream smell of roses we'll do our bit.
The Oiks and the Labourers can wear themselves out,
You can crawl into work with arthritis and goutl.

YES! WE ARE ALL IN IT TOGETHER; WE ARE ALL IN THE SHIT!
Although your lungs are about to give out,
you can limp  into work though your legs may give out,
if your ticker is dickey, your back is worn out,

WERE ALL IN IT TOGETHER, WERE ALL IN THE SHIT,
You can't retire; you'll have to stay fit.
Disabled and oldie's you'll all do your bit.
Yes were all in it together,
Yes were all in the SHIT!

Hero's are wounded; the salt of the earth.
 Where are the tax dodgers bankers, greedy M.P.s?
Who brought this great nation down on its knees?

COS WERE ALL IN IT togeth-er?
I am too tired to do my bit,
I'll dig my own grave, and lie down in it.
Work to the end, although I'm not fit.

(Chorus)
WERE ALL IN IT TOGETHER, YES! WERE ALL IN THE SHIT!
WERE ALL IN IT TOGETHER WE'LL ALL HAVE TO DO OUR BIT!

STRONG AND STABLE STRONG AND STABLE,
THERE'S NO MONEY ON THE TABLE!
YES THEY'RE ALL IN IT TOGETHER.
YOU'LL HAVE TO BRAVE THE WEATHER. 

Sunday, 22 January 2012

Old Ricky the Ratter.

Old Ricky was a terrier, as faithful as could be,
He'd curl up in a little ball comfy on my knee.
But outside that little terrier was a different boy,
no longer was he a lap dog, cos hunting was his joy.
His eyes would blaze his coat would stand,
the most terrifying terrier in the land.

Those bulging eyes, those twitching ears, a front paw off the ground.
Head stuck forward, shackles up; he knows they are around.
Ratty is hiding in long grass, Ricky knows he's there.
Like a cobra, Ricky strikes, the rat squeals out in fear.
That ones dead, more to kill; they scamper all around.
Ricky kills a few more rats before they go to ground.

Sometimes I'd strike out with my stick; just to give a hand,
Ricky and me, I'm sure you'll see,
were the best ratters in the land.
I sit alone no little dog curled up on my lap,
My stick is hanging on the door along with my old cap.

I miss Old Ricky, that little dog, as faithful as could be.
now he's buried in the ground beneath an Old Oak Tree.

   

Friday, 20 January 2012

The Taxidermists wife.

Sid was a taxidermist Lill was his flat chested wife.
He thought he'd enlarge her titties, with cotton wool and a surgeons knife.
He could make animals look alive, so he could alter his woman's looks.
He had read up how to do it all in plastic surgeon books.
He'd charge small sums to others, but practice on the wife for free.
So he set up in his garden shed to do the surgery.

With sleeping pills, and a bottle of gin Lill was soon out for the count.
Sid stuffed her little floppy tits until they stud up like Michael's Mount.
He stuffed her floppy buttocks, so she had a nice pert bum.
He was doing well until he thought she needed a teenagers flat tum.
Instead of stuffing stuff in, he had to take stuff out,
That's OK with dead animals, but Humans he knew nothing about.

Now poor old Lill looks better dead, than she ever looked in life,
She's on show in a glass case in Sid's front room, labelled,
 'A rare looking middle aged wife'.



Tuesday, 17 January 2012

The Bully.

Once I met a bully,he wasn't very brave,
he met a braver man, now he's in his grave.

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