To the tune of 'La Cucaracha' and more and more like Cookie Monster as the song goes on ...
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
It’s a question I ask twice
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
I’m so ready for a slice
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
I’ve been waiting for a year
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
Why my pizza is not here ?
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
They deliver on a bike
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
The one with toppings that I like
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
Me want pizza for me tea
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
Bloody late delivery
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
and my garlic bread as well
Where is my pizza ?
Where is my pizza ?
Wait a mo is that the bell ?
Me got me pizza
Me got me pizza
Om nom om nom nom umm numm
mmf gulp mmm pizza
num rip tear mouthful
Now me pizza in me tum
buuuuuuurp ….
]]>and right in write
but wrong in right
if you remember
this spelling song
you won’t be wrong
you’ll be alright ]]>
Would I suffer from existential angst ?
Would a pussy like me treat his life as a fail
On account of his quite unaccountable tail ?
Would the lack of a thing that I never once had
Make me catty or batty or simply quite mad ?
I think not. I’d be grounded. I’d stand on all paws.
My emotions well founded – all effects with a cause
I’d be straight like an arrow or even a beeline
cos a moggie like me is in touch with his felines ]]>
(that’s Leningrad
though whose ‘grad’s never stable:
Could be Lenin or Petro)
(You must try the Metro
Avtovo’s quite rightfully fabled)
Your feet will direct you
to Nevsky Prospekt to
go shopping or sit in a bar
Buy some boots with stout soles
cos with worn out plimsolls
in the Hermitage you won’t get far
It’s a palace and more
Many buildings and floors
Commissioned by Catherine the Great
Artists came when she beckoned
Old Catherine the Second
And it’s double the size of the Tate. ]]>
If you want a young lady for dinner
Take Louise, she’s a certified winner
She’s not boring or pensive
And never expensive
Just a hot dog and bubbly will win her
There’s train delays between Surrey and Hants
From Farnham to Alton there is no hilarity
We’re shocked and distressed at this poor punctuality
But hardiness and a stiff lip overcomes
The tardiness with which we visit our Mums ]]>
They repealed the feudal system
in seventeen eighty nine
If you want a fief
Well bad luck chief
This just is not the time
You might have once been Seigneur
What Brits like us call ‘Lord’
By dint of berf
You’re not a serf
You’ve got manor house and board
The truth is much less noble
More what the folk at home want
(Unless home is Sark, you own the park
and your name’s Michael Beaumont)
Take a look, take a look, take a look at me
I’m the B-U-M and the B-L-E
With a B to the E and another E
I’m the ever-lovin’ ever-buzzin’ bumblebee
Don’t hunker in a hive like a honey bee
We do the bumblebee jive in a colony
in a hole underground or a hole in a tree
Don’t mess with us honey with your apiary
I’m the tiger in the sky dressed in yellow and black
See me flying real high got four wings on my back
I’m perfect aerodynamically
I’m the ever-loving’ ever-buzzin’ bumblebee
Is he suffers from ennui, won’t get out of bed
He won’t put his feet on the tedious floor
The thought of a shower’s a terrible bore
He’s resting he tells her, in between lulls
He’d flick through a book but they’re horribly dull
He goes to the toilet but just cos he must
He’d stay out of bed but he just can’t be fussed
Attempts to amuse him are met with a sigh
He says he would titter but he can’t quite see why
His Mum hopes that Amazon will end her sorrow
The dynamite’s ordered – it turns up tomorrow ]]>
I got two black holes where front teeth used to be
I got space where once my wiggly pearly whites were
The tooth brigade’s been poachin’ ivory
What once was indivisibubbly rooted
Was yesterday just jiggling around
The fairy’s been and now my tooth’s transmuted
It’s only gone and turned into a pound
Artwork by the generous and talented @baboonicorn
It holds the duvet loosely when you first turn out the light
Then it goes into a death roll like a river crocodile
You start out under covers, but that’s only for a while
Before you know what’s happened you are in the open air
Tucked up into ‘not a lot’ where duvet once was there
You try to find a corner but it’s vanished without trace
It’s just as hard as getting the duvet into the duvet case
You think you might just snuggle up into the duvet worm
The heat within’s not coming out, no, not one single therm
Your body temp is slipping : ninety eight, now ninety seven
(The heartless swine beside you’s never getting into heaven)
You think you might just freeze to death – you’re starting now to panic
Your brain invents a brand new law of bed thermodynamics
If heat’s conserved, it surely is inside the duvethog
“But why ?” you ask. Because the arse has stolen all the togs.
]]>* In my mind this kind of rhymes with ‘rubber dog’.
This verse was inspired by the #FairytaleFriday writing challenge on Twitter.
Catherine commented :
William, whilst I attempted a tricky reversing manoeuvre:
“Mummy, how many marbles can a shark hold in its mouth at once?”…..
The reversing bit is important to the story. Xx
Mummy was busy reversing
Her arm round the passenger seat
Her brow was furrowed deeply
Her focus was complete
Her tongue was poking up & right
She was trying so hard to park
But the question I needed answering right
Was about the great white shark
Its appetite is voracious
It’s always gobbling prey
Its mouth is quite capacious
In a toothy kind of way
It’s one of the ocean’s marvels
The fabulous way it hunts
But I wondered how many marbles
It could hold in its mouth at once
Mummy was quick to remind us
She was quite busy trying to park
When she bumped into something behind us
And said something rude about sharks
Of duels with a parry and lunge
His sword work was second
To no-one at all
Hoorah for Victorious Punge ! ]]>
this year for the very first time
Some hoar in the night
Had painted it white
and covered the pavement in rime ]]>
light and liquid
prestidigitation,
but they wouldn’t
work at all with
less precipitation. ]]>
I hate bad spelling & a friend pointed out that ‘Slay Bells’ meant something VERY different from ‘sleigh bells’.
Slay bells ring, are you listening ?
Down his neck, blood is glistening
A beautiful sight
A bit of a fright
Murder in a winter wonderland
He floated just like a bee
He stung like a butterfly
sat on a peach, inserted rectally.
He floated on top of the water
A legend all bubbly and brown –
Knowing the crowd would try to enshroud
him with tissues – refusing to drown.
He was down but by God he was fighting
He was not going to let it all end
No miserable flush or stab with a brush
Could push him around the bend.
’cause Gaseous was a survivor
He’d been dumped and was shat on you see
But do not despair because Gas’ll be there
The next time you come in to pee.
Still arguing and fighting tribally
For some it is land and some religion
For some it’s the game on television
So here’s what I want to impress on you
If you’re one of them I think less of you ]]>
when I die & go to heaven
WORK is worth eleven points
but LIFE’s worth only seven ]]>
I just wanna be a smaller size
I’ve tried everything and I’ve realised
My waist will not be hypnotised
I haven’t run – what I’ve done is fuck all
My gut hangs inches over my buckle
The pants I buy are labelled ‘L’
as in ‘Lard’ or ‘Lead’ or ‘Fed quite Well’
My belly is jelly one minute then solid
My flat’s full of crap from the takeaway – squalid
Getting caught with the thought of a jog makes me shiver
I’d walk to the pizza place – but they deliver
I don’t want to exercise
I just wanna be a smaller size
There’s gotta be an easier way to do it
Sennakot and a pot and I just sit and poo it ?
It’s important I oughtn’t ignore my inflation
My waist’s got the taste for some exaggeration
No lotion or potion or pill’s going to cut it
(Must) take hold of my cake hole I’ve just got to shut it
To a party, they said “Come in grey
We’ve invited along all the foxes
And Scruffy the neighbourhood stray”
“We’ll see you at seven / half seven
You don’t want to miss the buffet
There’s chicken we found at eleven last night
that had only been there for a day”
The pigeons were really excited
They fluttered and flapped and they cooed
I don’t think they thought about foxes
And what they consider is food
The pigeons arrived at half seven
The foxes were fashionably late
But instead of a nice bit of chicken
It was all of the pigeons they ate
The squirrels were rather embarrassed
(And covered in feathers and beak)
But the foxes were quite unrepentant:
“Let’s do this at our place next week !”
Last week, in news we don’t really care about, a dog called Pudsey won a TV talent contest. Pudsey is the name of a one eyed teddy bear that raises money for children. Judging by its eye patch, I like to imagine it’s a pirate, stealing money from Portuguese ships bring gold back from the New World … but it might just be a stuffed bear.
A dog named after a bear,
(Not a real one but one that is stuffed,)
has more talent than all of the country ?
I can’t bear it I’ve just had enough
For Mr Banana unfortunately
Mr Banana looked tasty
So we ate Mr Banana for our tea ]]>
Eleanor posted :
Quote of the day from my physiotherapist:
“The buttocks really are the root of all evil.”
“The buttocks are the root of all evil”
my physiotherapist said,
“From the minute you’re up in the morning
to when you lie down in your bed,
your buttocks are plotting your downfall
creeping up on you from behind.
I have seen a posterior inducing hysteria
in an inferior mind.”
It bothered me for a moment
but the feeling I’m sure will pass
Just for now though emotion’s beneath me
I don’t want to be seen as an arse.