He was mad, I tell you, stark, raving mad!
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Category Archives: humour
I Have a Little Satnav, by Pam Ayres
I have a little Satnav; it sits there in my car
A Satnav is a driver’s friend it tells you where you are.
I have a little Satnav; I’ve had it all my life
It’s better than the normal ones, My Satnav is my wife.
It gives me full instructions, especially how to drive
“It’s sixty miles an hour”, it says, “You’re doing sixty five”.
It tells me when to stop and start, and when to use the brake
And tells me that it’s never ever, Safe to overtake.
It tells me when a light is red, and when it goes to green
It seems to know instinctively, Just when to intervene.
It lists the vehicles just in front, and all those to the rear
And taking this into account, It specifies my gear.
I’m sure no other driver, has so helpful a device
For when we leave and lock the car, It still gives its advice.
It fills me up with counselling, each journey’s pretty fraught
So why don’t I exchange it, And get a quieter sort?
Ah well, you see, it cleans the house, Makes sure I’m properly fed
It washes all my shirts and things, and keeps me warm in bed!
Despite all these advantages, and my tendency to scoff,
I only wish that now and then, I could turn the bugger off
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Wee Willie Winkie – Take Two
Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his night gown,
Rapping at the windows,
Crying through the locks,
I’ve lost my keys, my feet are cold,
THERE ARE HOLES IN MY SOCKS!
A Cuddly Koala
I am a koala, it said smiling at her,
A cuddly koala, you can tell by my fur,
My paws and claws give also a hint,
And the smile on my face is significant.
*
I can see by your fur, Alice answered, I do,
And also your paws and claws; it’s true,
But the look on your face has me all in a whirl,
A smiling koala is alien to this girl.
*
Still smiling at Alice, the koala replied,
You’d never believe me; you’d think I had lied,
If the smile on my face was gone; it’s the truth,
No one would believe in this koala, forsooth.
*
Without offering Alice the chance to reply,
The marsupial went on with his horrible lie,
Creeping closer and closer, until ever so near,
He pounced, lashed out, and cut her left ear.
*
Feeling the hurt and the blood running down,
Alice said, I was such a sad clown,
To have listened to you, an animal smiler,
Take that, and that, you horrible liar!
Wonderland – gone MAD.
************
Troll Bolf is So Sick
Troll Bolf is so sick,
He might even die,
A terrible thing has happened,
And he doesn’t know why,
He caught bird flu, though he don’t even fly,
He blows his nose and wipes his eyes.
I had a little sock tree
I had a little sock tree
Nothing would it bear,
But some little red socks,
And what a scruffy pair.
*
The queens of England’s son,
Came to visit me,
All because of
My little sock tree.
*
When he saw my sock tree,
And the scruffy pair.
He staggered back, aghast,
At the colour, rare.
*
He said, they are fine socks,
I must have them – I must,
How much do you want,
For the pair, he asked.
*
I told him that my socks,
Are not for sale – are not,
He replied, I must have them,
I’ll pay a pretty bob.
*
How much will you pay?
I asked, intrigued, a bit,
He said, I’ll pay ten thousand pounds,
Here they are, I said.
***************
A Life in the Poo
Good times are coming, I know they are near,
The best times, for sure, in a number of years;
I’m counting each day on my fingers and thumbs,
Until the recession has passed and the bad times have gone.
Then, when the money is flowing again,
I will thank those people, both women and men,
Who stood up to the bankers and politicians; it’s true,
That saved us, how they saved us, from a life in the poo.
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Be Careful What You Wish For
Arnie the apple hung from a tree
in an orchard a mile wide.
And every day the pickers would come
and haul dozens of apples inside.
They’d pick the prettiest of the bunch,
filling their baskets and pails.
But they always passed by Arnie,
ignoring his whines and wails.
“Please pick me!”, Arnie would cry
each time the pickers sauntered by.
“I want to go inside with you!”,
cried Arnie till he turned bright blue.
But the pickers ignored him day after day,
while Arnie hung there in dismay,
trying to nurse his shattered pride,
dying to be picked to be taken inside.
Each new dawn he’d do a trick
like spinning around on his twig.
But the picky pickers never stopped
for apples that weren’t big
or juicy or red or bright or sweet.
Poor Arnie was none of these things.
He wasn’t completely quite full grown
and he had some nicks and dings.
He dreamed what it was like inside;
lights and music all around.
Arnie just wanted to go there so badly
he flung himself to the ground.
The next day the pickers came along
and saw him lying there.
They took him inside and Arnie thought,
“This is it! I’m finally there!”
But when Arnie the Apple looked around
he realized his dreams were false,
’cause in less than 15 minutes
he was Arnie Applesauce.
(C) 1998, Arden Davidson
http://www.angelfire.com/md/byme/pocket.html
Mind my Unguarded Brain
Johnny was a barber; he loved his job, he did,
Cutting people’s hair and mowing other wigs.
Until one day he reeled back, shocked by what he saw,
A hole in the head of a customer, a man so old and poor,
Why don’t you go to the doctor? he asked the man out loud,
To get it fixed, filled in quick, that’s what I’d do, he cried,
No, I can’t do that, the old man then answered him,
I’ve had it there for forty years; it’s a part of me, he grinned,
I would miss that hole in my head; he went on to explain,
Please trim my hair but mind my unguarded brain.
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It’s the way I tell ’em, so it is!
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 