Thursday, 20 April 2017

R means Poetry for RRRRrrrrrrrrrr

Well it is time to post one of last years little poems. as I remember I was busy last year about this time too. . . .Why does that keep happening I am trying to be lazy and my mind keeps thinking up interesting things for me to make. DAMN these brains they have minds of their own and mine keeps trying to make my body run about which it knows I cant do. My feet are a bit dodgy so yes i can leap about OK but then fall off stuff a fair bit which is OK as long as i'm near the ground. I do not do heights much these days although I used too, some very high heights they were too

Poetry for RRRRrrrrrrrrrr

RRRRRrrrrrrrrrr said the Pirate
As he stood on the Pirate Ship
A mug of rum in his hand
From which he had a little sip
As he watched the waves far out at sea
A parrot on his shoulder
And a wooden leg attached to his left Knee
RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrr me hearties
As he winks at the rest of his crew
Throwing Tom the cabin boy overboard
Because it is the sort of thing
Pirates are meant to do 

Man Overboard

HHHA Hha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha ha ha h

RRRRr Damn the Shark got him

Wednesday, 19 April 2017

The Quirkiness of the Long Distance Blogger and an Inventor.

Today as an extra bonus I am giving you two Q's . . . Yes us Brits love a good Q one is from an old A to Z, you know the one about inventors. And I need to say now there are things in that such as the bicycle that will only make sense unless you read the entire A to Z it came from although I dont recommend that unless you have several hours to read it all. 

The first is not from an A to Z but makes an important point. This was from my days of writing a post every day which I did for 3 or 4 years through rain snow and rabbits. 

Now dont feel you need to read them both I will not be offended ( I will but hey it is OK you have stuff to do). . . .So here we go the letter Q from two entirely different angles.

The Quirkiness of the Long Distance Blogger

As a long term slightly quirky blogging diarist, I have to give myself little goals to achieve. Not goals like in the world cup where you have to kick a small round thing into a sort of fruit cage affair.

One of the primary objectives of any blogger is does anyone actually look at your blog, are they friendly, will they send you large sums of money, will the very nice Steven Spielberg make your very very long diary into a blockbuster film or films, (it is very long).  If the answer to all these is no then you have to find odd little glimmers of hope from other things.

I therefore have achieved something this month that is very positive indeed, this month has seen the best month ever for Page Views with close to seven and a half thousand as we approach the end of June. Now I have no way of knowing if that is good or not and I am aware that certain things can distort those figures, so I do not use those dynamic view design options they add thousands of page views that don’t exist, I learnt that very early on. I also do not count my own views of my blog or that would just get confusing and I do not allow anonymous commenting that just attracts automated web crawlers and they are well annoying beasts.

I suspect folk are going to say . . .  IS THAT ALL HEY I GET THAT A DAY . . .  but I just don’t know what is good or bad in the world of blogging, it is full of smoke and mirrors and a lot of hype so I just keep to my own goals.  Strangely if there is one thing the football teams in the world cup hate it is own goals, but as a blogger it is what keeps me striving to bigger and better things, well that and the dream that the very nice Steven Spielberg will stop burning the manuscript to the film of the diary of the book of the blog

The world of blogging is a fickle world but there are some good folk out there, Mr ESB, Miss Laura, Mr Addman, Mr H, Miss Lily and Master Meglos, Miss Hannah,  Mr Flip, Mr B, P Von P, Mr G to name but a few. And so you may ask yourself why do we do this, what drives us in our quest for fame fortune and celebrity without moving from the comfort of our armchairs. The answer is simple we are all IDIOTS……….

The A to Z of Slightly Strange
Unknown Victorian Inventors
and Explorers

Quinton Quantum-Quizzical

Quizzical by name, quizzical by nature was Mr Quinton Quantum-Quizzical’s little catch phrase which he repeated at least half a dozen times a day to his faithful assistant (Ivan Pavlov) and his cat (called Quantum). And there was no denying that he was a quizzical man, experimenting in all sorts of things from chemistry to mechanics and even electricity and alchemy. One day he was invited by Professor Venomous Voldemort to an experiment at the Royal Observatory which involved a cat or at least part of a cat. And this made Mr Quantum-Quizzical ponder his own cat that spent most of its time sleeping in a box in the laboratory. So how was he to know for sure that the cat was alive or dead, because while it was in the box both options were possible and this led to an interesting paradox for Mr Quantum-Quizzical.

So he invented the Quantum Cat Quizzer a device that you can attach to your cats collar or a box and it periodically stabs the cat with a sharp point if the cat does not move. So if your cat falls asleep in a box you will know the cat is alive when it leaps out and runs round the kitchen panicking. If it remains in the box then it can be assumed to be dead.

The device worked well to some degree but it had issues like being made of cast-iron which did make the device heavier that ideal, and a dependence on steam as the devices energy source, leading to several overheated cats. Who when stabbed repeatedly with the Quantum Cat Quizzer did not move, proving the cats were dead.

Although Quinton Quantum-Quizzical did finally master the design of the Quantum Cat Quizzer, the tide of public opinion was against the device as us British were by then turning into a nation of cat lovers. Also several little old ladies very badly injured when their cats having been stabbed with a sharp point hid on their owners heads where the poor old cat then got stabbed again leading to further injuries to the little old ladies.

In the end Quinton Quantum-Quizzical finally put forward the theory that most cats in a box are in fact alive but most little old ladies in a box are dead. A good theory, but one that led to him being repeated stabbed with a sharp pointy stick by his own mother who often slept in a box with his cat.

His assistant Ivan Pavlov suggested they try some experiments with dogs instead but by then Quinton Quantum-Quizzical had decided that he was going to become a nun and was last seen dressed as a penguin with a bicycle wheel on his head. 

Tuesday, 18 April 2017


Ah yes another old post from a previous A to Z and one of my favourite ones . . . Well what does that say about me I wonder, but lets face it we all must have a few letters from the A to Z's over the years that we like. Where we sit back and think well that worked OK how did that happen. . . PHEW . . .  And OK yes I admit it I may have tweaked the photo just a tiny weeny bit just to sort of add impact to what is an entirely plausible tale  . . . . O yes it is . . . 

Quite frankly I am amazed I have made it to the letter P this year as I said several times back at A B and C I am a busy chap doing stuff. I mean I am in the middle of building a very odd summerhouse with quirky bits and towers on which all being well I hope to enter into a little competition. OK it will not be this year I'm a bit late but by next year it should look awesome a bit like the PERPLEXED PINEAPPLE PAGODA of PERSIA. . . No its true. . .Anyway that brings us back to the Letter P so . . . . . . .

Oooooo yes this was back in the days when My blog was my diary (A slightly odd diary)

The Famous Architecture of 

It has been PERISHINGLY cold today with PERSISTENT PETULANT PIERCING rain PENETRATING the PORES of the POOR folk walking their PEKINESE in the PARK, it was PREDICTED so why they have to PUNISH themselves is rather PECULIAR, and the PEKINESE looked PERISHED and PUFFED out anyway.

In school today we were discussing the PRINCIPLES of Architecture and in PARTICULAR the Famous PERPLEXED PINEAPPLE PAGODA of PERSIA built by the PRINCE of PERSIA in the 15th century at the PEAK of his POWERS.  It is apparently known as the PERPLEXED PINEAPPLE because of the POLYMORPHIC PLEBEIAN PERPENDICULAR PITCHED PILLARED PIVOTING Staircase that PENETRATES the PINEAPPLE PAGODAS PRESTIGIOUS Crown. The dog incidentally says “POPPYCOCK and I could write what I know about Architecture on a PIECE of PAPER the size of a PEANUT in big letters”. All I can say is POOOOOO, the dog is just a POSY PROTAGONIST, what the dog fails to take into account is all the readers know less that I do about the Famous PERPLEXED PINEAPPLE PAGODA of PERSIA. And anyway If that very nice Steven Spielberg is going to make the block buster movie (sorry the sequel to the block buster movie) then a PRESTIGIOUS PANORAMIC location is a PRIORITY.

Interestingly the PERPLEXED PINEAPPLE PAGODA was built as a PIGEON Loft for the PRINCES PRIZED POISONOUS PERUVIAN PUFF PIGEONS who would PROMENADE importantly in the PINNACLES of its crown. Mr PLANT the Architecture lecturer said it was quite PLAUSIBLE that the PAGODA was built as a PLEASURE facility and………..

It was at this POINT that the lesson came to an abrupt halt when Esmeralda’s PYROTECHNICS’ PANICKED the PUPILS and they PUSHED out of the doors towards the PUB for a PORK PIE. It was all a bit chaotic until PETER the landlord of the PUB started PLAYING his bagpipes……. A sort of PIE PIPER…… Mmmmmm I have always wondered where the meat in his PIES came from???......... ……. ……. ……YUM

Ooooooo by the way Captain Flint the PARROT says “PIECES of Eight ……… POLLY needs a POO”

So much for the PRINCIPLES of good taste……. really 

Monday, 17 April 2017

O is for an Osprey and an Ocelot

As you all know 2013 was the year of the fairytale, I mean everyone loves fairy tales. However writing 26 all new fairytales is not as easy as you think, well not as easy as I thought and by the letter O they were getting a bit odd. OK yes Odd is a very subjective thing I mean one mans odd is another man's normal, but I'm a normal sort of chap so I think I can use the word odd if I want too and anyway they are now fairytales so YA SUCKS BOO.  Ok I may be drifting away from the entire point if there is one which I suspect there is not so best just to let you have a read of my story

The Slightly eccentric A to Z blogging adventure
 of unknown and rather unpopular 
Modern fairy tales

O    An Osprey and an Ocelot

  An OSPREY and an OCELOT were OBSERVING the OCEAN near OSLO one OCTOBER day, it was an ORDINARY day slightly OVERCAST with the OCCASIONAL glimpse of the sun (an ORANGE ORB in the sky).

The OCELOT said to the OSPREY   . . .
Was that an OCTOPUS eating an OWL in the OCEAN?

And the OSPREY said
In my opinion they were dancing to the sound of The OSLO OCARINA ORCHESTRAL Ensemble and an OBOE

They continued to OBSERVE the OCEAN then after a while the OCELOT said to the OSPREY
Was that an OLIVE Flounder OVERTLY OGLING an OTTER?

And the OSPREY said
I think they are engaged in ORIENTEERING

So they continued to OBSERVE the OCEAN and after a while the OCELOT said to the OSPREY  
Was that an ORBICULAR batfish opening an OCTAGONAL box?

An the OSPREY said
I think he is ON an OUTING to the grand OPENING of an OUZO bar.

Then a large OGRE came and ORDERED a ONION and OLIVE sandwich
But the OSPREY and the OCELOT said they did not serve sandwiches
The OGRE then said OOOOOOOOOH I better eat you then
And the OSPREY and the OCELOT ran away
Leaving the OGRE OBSERVING the OCEAN near OSLO one OCTOBER day

The OGRE then said to an ONLOOKER
Was that an OCTOPUS eating an OWL in the OCEAN?

And the ONLOOKER said
In my OPINION they were dancing to the sound of The OSLO OCARINA ORCHESTRAL Ensemble and an OBOE

But the OGRE jumped up and chased the ONLOOKER OFF into the distance
And all was quiet except for the gently sound of The

The End

Oooooooo a link 

Sunday, 16 April 2017

N is for Nothing to do with N . . . . DAMN

Look Ok I have lost the plot completely now as today is the N day where the Letter N should be a prominent feature of the post and MMMmmmmmm (or NNNNnnnnnnnn) it is not; NO in fact there is almost Nothing here that has any link to the letter N in any way except ironically the word Nothing. Anyway these things happen, I mean there I was looking back over my many many posts pondering which N post to use and for reasons only known to my subconscious I ended up with a poem that is not N related. I do not have a good memory so reading it again made me realise just what a bad poet I am . . . Something I am very proud of, not everyone can write stuff like this you know. Go on give it a go. . . 

So here we have an Un N poem that will Nibble at  the Nerve ends of your Neurons. First posted round about halloween 2015 sadly in October rather than November an N Month . .  DAMN      

Poetry for an Infinite Number of Monkeys
 Halloween and Evolution
(A world first)

One day I found myself looking up
At an infinite number of Monkeys in a TREE
And an infinite number of Monkeys
Stared indignantly . . . . . 
Just looking back down at ME
They said they were not happy
And they shouted in my EAR
That it was them that wrote
The collected works
Of that bloke we call SHAKESPEARE
And they had planned to write
The concise pocket edition of Aristotle
And maybe Homer’s ODYSSEY
But they then decided to all go on Strike
Because they were still waiting
For their large Shakespearean FEE
So confused I shouted
Trick or Treat, as it is nearly HALLOWEEN
But the Monkeys just sneered
And said as a relative
I was the worst they had ever SEEN
And I tried to point out to them
That I was higher in the Evolutionary Process
Which was plainly clear to SEE?
But they very kindly pointed out
I was on the ground . . . looking up
And they were looking down
From up in the TREE

While in a pond near by
A single celled critter
Sung a SONG
All about Halloween and Evolution
And how he thought
Both had gone


Friday, 14 April 2017

M is for the plight of Mermaids, Monsters and Mythical Beasts.

I think I wrote this in July 2015 I say think I was not paying attention when I copied and pasted it here. But it is full of M words . . . OK it has the words Mermaids, Monsters and Mythical Beasts in it which is cool because they are good words. Unless of course you are being chased by a Mermaid, Monster or Mythical Beasts. If you are being chased by a Mermaid then I would suggest you get out of the sea, they are rubbish at running. Right enough of this idol chit chat time for my M word post . . . . . . OOOOOOO and I know I am trying to get back to comment on folks blogs as and when you leave a comment but I have had something like eight comments on L and that means I will be here half the night now sorting that out so be patient and remember I am a bit grumpy . . . And rubbish at typing.

Happy Easter by the way.

The plight of Mermaids, Monsters and Mythical Beasts

The World is a place where things change, there is little if anything anyone can do to stop it. Sometimes it is for the better and often it is not and most of the time it is impossible to tell if it is for the better or worse.  One of the sadness’s that gets little if any thought is that of the plight of Mermaids, Monsters and Mythical Beasts, O yes I can see a slight look of puzzlement on the faces of many as they dwell on what I am saying. You see many many many years ago such things had a real place in the minds of man, they were real and existed even if they were seldom seen.

When they were seen they were generally blamed for all sorts of stuff they did not do. Folk do stuff like that, blaming mythical beasts is to put it bluntly an easy way out of trouble.  I’m sure we would all happily shout . . . . The Mermaid did it. . . when someone is demanding to know who ate their ice cream.  Of course what happened is science turned up and along with rational thought putting an end to many of the beasts of the past as anatomically impossible or some such reason? Without . . . I will add the slightest morsel of remorse for destroying the deep held believes of many generations.

The thing is us humans need our Mermaids, Monsters and Mythical Beasts and so we are forced to find them in the wilder places of the world and ensure that they have some sort of scientific plausibility. Critters such as Big Foot, Yeti, The Loch Ness Monster as well as many other beasts, particularly of the deep sea and lakes.  But I can’t help but think the day will come when we finally kill them of as well.  And the strange world of unknown large and even small mythical beasts will be no more.

These things are in our DNA they need to be real, I mean just ask yourself why do folk like films like Jurassic World or King Kong or Godzilla its not just simple entertainment it is more deep rooted. Only the problem is it is no longer possible to see them as a real possibility of a world that might just still exist in a small corner of Planet Earth. . . . Like in the film The Lost World, a world that is now lost for good.

The world would be a better place if the possibility of Mermaids was distinctly a real possibility. 

Thursday, 13 April 2017

L is for Lester Livingstone (inventor)

Back in 2015 I wrote . .  The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown Victorian Inventors and Explorers it was a lot of work I mean it was not just writing a little tale for each letter but I had to invent something for each day and then draw a suitable picture to go with it. I also interlinked many of the little tales so if you read them all it would make an interesting coherent story. Sadly despite all the work only two people noticed all the links and it left me a broken man swearing I would never do the damn A to Z ever again. Yes Yes Ok I got over that a few hours later I am made of tough stuff and anyway I enjoyed it and at the end of the day surely that is the key point . . . Enjoy your own blog and have a good time creating it, do that and fame and fortune will soon follow. . . AH OK I LIE. . . 

Anyway I dont think I have posted an A to Z post from the 2015 A to Z yet so here is one of the more modest inventors who sadly seemed to meet the same fate as many of the inventors I wrote about back then.

 The A to Z of Slightly Strange Unknown 
Victorian Inventors and Explorers

Lester Livingstone

As a professional poker player Lester Livingstone was always looking for an edge to give him an advantage over his fellow players on the professional circuit.  And after reading the rules in detail realized that there was one rule that had been completely overlooked by the official body in charge of the professional gaming rules for poker. 

It appeared to Lester that there was nothing in the rules to say that a man could only have two arms. In fact the more Lester thought about this, the idea of a man having more than two arms appeared to have many advantages.  So he invented the Livingstone Limbs which doubled the number of arms a man could have to a very useful four.  And as a card player he was able to shuffle cards in ways that no one had ever thought of before, confusing his opponents to such a degree that they lost concentration and would lose.

It also meant Lester could tie his shoes and put his hat on at the same time, drive his horseless carriage and read the newspaper as well as a huge host of other useful activities that were thought to be beyond the skills of the average Victorian Gentleman.

His down fall however was his showing off and while juggling fifteen axes for a bet he had a terrible accident.

His final word as he lay on his death bed a few hours later has gone down in history and is often uttered by many folk even to this day in a similar situation.

AAAAauuuuuuugggHHHHH. . . . .  

Wednesday, 12 April 2017

K is for Kippers and the KGB as we all Know

Back in March 2012 my blog was very much a diary (sort of a bit) Ok it had a diary format and although folk would say stuff like . . . . . that’s total rubbish . . . The fact is, or was back then I could look back and work out what I was doing . . .mostly.  However there were days when it all fell apart and K in my test run for the April 2012 A to Z was a prime example.  Yes I did a test run for my first A to Z but the drawback was once April turned up I had to do it all over again and think of new stuff and new words for each letter . . . .Phew is what I thought at the time 

So here it is the Letter K from March 2012.

A misty start to the day, and another day at school for me, the Grey Office for the Ghost Writer and the KREMLIN for the KGB.  Breakfast was KIPPERS,and the dog has informed us (and we KNOW why) that it contains no  KOAGULATIONSVITAMIN or vitamin K to you and me, he says I would be better to roast a KESTREL and have KETCHUP with it. As a special K day treat all the pupils went to school dressed as large Gorillas. Mum got in a bit of a KERFUFFLE making my outfit and dad threatened to torch it with KEROSENE but it was well cool in the end bulked out with KAPOK.

Unfortunately on route to school the bus went KAPUT on the KINGS road a few hundred yards from the school. So we all walked the last bit up the KINGS road.  We did frighten a party of Little old Ladies who on seeing forty two KING KONGS and one KANGAROO wearing a KIMONO, (that was KEN), all playing KAZOOS, thought they were about to be KIDNAPPED. KEVIN was very KIND and did try and explain but speech gets very muffled in a KING KONG outfit and the little old ladies thought he said KILL the KITTEN with a KITCHIN KNIFE, which KICK-started a stampede.

OK this is not a Kangaroo, but it is the nearest Pic I have.

The next thing was a man wearing KHAKI, who we were told was a zoo KEEPER chasing us with a large net but we made it into school. Well not KEN he had a dodgy KNEECAP and you can't run fast wearing a KANGAROO outfit and a KIMONO with a KITTIWAKE sat on your head. Although KEN does KNOW KUNG Fu so did escape in the end with a KNOCKOUT blow to the zoo KEEPER.

The rest of the day was very quiet, KRIS did ask Silent KAY who sits at the front of the class if she would like a KNICKERBOCKER Glory at lunchtime or one of his KOOKABURRA sandwiches but she said KNOW ………… HAH AHHAH HAH HAH HAH ha hh hah h h ha haha hhah ha 

KEDGEREE for dinner YUM, I might keep some for AUNTIE KAREN, I could wrap it in KELP to KEEP it fresh.

I bet you think this was KOBBLED together in a rush while I watched the KETTLE boil through a KALEIDOSCOPE ……………..could be? 

Tuesday, 11 April 2017

J is for Japanese Crayfish Jousters

OK for J I am repeating the Letter J from May 2014 . . . .  if I get a day free I might write a poem for this years A to Z but we will wait and see as I have many things to do.

OOOOOooo the formatting here is rather odd but with luck it will look OK to everyone else (I hope)

J is for Japanese Crayfish Jousters

Once upon a time back in darkest history when Knights were Knights and villagers would scream and run about in fear of large dragons that breathed fire at all sorts of stuff, and wizards would cast spells turning large grown men into frogs or would turn slugs into small rodents or cats into violin strings. It was quite common for small children when asked what they would like to do when they grew up, to all shout I WANT TO BE A JAPANESE CRAYFISH JOUSTER. Their fearsome reputation and the adulation of the massed crowds who would shower them in small bits of Halibut and gold coins made them the heroic figures of the day. Yes the Japanese Crayfish Jousters were known across the known world of the time and the spectacle of huge crayfish charging at one another across the arena was something to behold as both beast and man were covered in gold and jewels and showed no fear.

Of course such things never last and as time pasted and the fables and legends of the past faded into the lost corners of history when asked what they wanted to be when they grew up, small children would then shout I WANT TO BE A TRAIN DRIVER OR AN ASTRONAUT the dreams of the Japanese Crayfish Jousters lost for ever.

But even those, the simple dreams of small children have changed in just a few years, as the dark shadows of the corporate world and obsession with media penetrated the very soul of mankind. Because if you say to a group of small children now, what do you want to be when you grow up, they will all shout I WANT BE THE WINNER OF A TALENT SHOW ON TELEVISION, PLAY FOR MAN UTD . . . . . ..   AND HAVE BIG BOOBS.  But one day in the future a very nice man called say maybe Steven Spielberg will think Japanese Crayfish Jousters what a great idea for a block buster film and then once again everyone will want to be Japanese Crayfish Jousters like the old days.   . . . We can but hope. 

Monday, 10 April 2017

I is for Poetry with an eye in it (sorry an I in it) . .

I have been working on my homebrew summer house all day. OK not all day as I had to pop into Shrewsbury to get some screws, metal cutting discs for the angle grinder and a few other bits. And although it is made out of old things to make it look posh it needs some new stuff so it is all getting right complicated.  Anyway the thing is I am still repeating a few old posts from previous A to Zs cos most of them a jolly good (O Yes They Are).  

Todays is from last year 2016 although not from the A to Z and it has little to do with eyes sorry I's except there are a lot of I's in this poem (not many eyes) and it has words that rhyme with I like Pie and Die and Fence (Ah DAMN that is not right). 

So here we have it one of my poems from a time when I wrote a lot of them . . A time before I got seriously busy in the real world.  

As I walked, home one day
I saw a cute cat, sat on a fence
So I bought it from its owner
For three pound fifty pence
I told the owner I was hungry
And was going to eat it for my tea
In a curry or a cute cat pie
But the owner got upset
And said he didn't want his cat to die
But I said I was looking forward to my meal now
And so in order to keep his cat alive
He would have to pay a little more
Say about fifteen pounds twenty five

When I got home
I told everyone
Of my great capitalist plan
And everyone agree, I was a very clever man
And although I'm rather modest
I  also had to totally agree
And I smiled smugly
As I tucked into a bowl
Of fresh puppy soup
And goldfish kedgeree

Sunday, 9 April 2017

H means its time for Harpies, Hercules and Hungarians

OK . . . thats better its one of those fairy tails from back in 2013 because I am still busy  as it happens I am off getting wood screws and the like to continue building my rather interesting summerhouse with towers and stuff. Yes it is far too complex and it taking ages too build, but that is the sort of chap I am, I am not going to do stuff the easy way OOOooooo No.

Harpies, Hercules and Hungarians 

We have all HEARD of the HARPIES, the daughters of Thaumas and Electra who would be very naughty and HAD a HABIT of stealing all the food of Phineus, the king of Thrace, things like HALIBUT, HERRING, HOTDOGS, HAGGIS, and HAM sandwiches, but few have HEARD of HENRIETTA the HAPPY HARPIE. HORRIFIED by the HORRENDOUS HABITS of her sisters (the three other HARPIES). HENRIETTA the HARPIE HID in the HILLS and HELPED HUMBLE HOBBITS to tie their HOBNAIL boots up and HELP HEDGEHOGS to cross the road, and HOOVER and trim HEDGES. Then one day her sisters said they were HAVING a HOLIDAY and would visit HENRIETTA at her HOME in the HILLS . . . . . .HELP thought HENRIETTA who knew the HOBBITS and HEDGEHOGS were HARDLY going to be HAPPY so she HATCHED a plan. She invited HERCULES, HOMER and HORUS to her HOUSE.

When the HARBINGERS of HORROR and HAZARDOUS HAZARDS arrived at the HOME of HENRIETTA the HAPPY HARPIE to HARASS HER she introduced HOMER who said he would read HISTORY for HOURS and HOURS to the three HARPIES to HELP. Then HORUS HOWLED from the HUT on the HILLSIDE, the three HARPIES do not like HORUS because HE’S HALF a HAWK and HALF an Egyptian HIEROGLYPHIC and HE HOWLS better than they do.  Then HERCULES (famous for his fight with the HYDRA) wearing a HANDMADE HAT and HOOLA skirt offered them HOT chocolate and HOBNOBS, apparently HARPIES HATE HOBNOBS.

To make matters worse for the three  HORRIBLE HARPIES, a HERD of HYENA and a  HUGE HUSKY started to laugh HYSTERICALLY at them, so the three HORRID HARPIES said our HEADS HURT we HAVE HAD enough of this HULLABALLOO we are HEADING HOME to HAMPSTEAD HEATH.

As they flew HOME they were tempted to HARASS a group of tourists on HOLIDAY at a HOTEL and stole all their HAMBURGERS, but even this did not go as planned as the HOTELS guests were HUNGARIAN tourists who set fire to the three HARPIES. After all, if there is one thing we all know, it is that HUNGARIANS love a big  HOT bowl of HUNGARIAN GHOUL-ASH……… HA HA HA HA HAH HAH AH haha hh haha hah hah hhah ahahah ahah ah h haha haha ha hahaha hahahahahaha hahaha

And the three HORRID HARPIES were never seen again.



Saturday, 8 April 2017

G is for Poetry that ends in G

Poetry is easy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . or so some say
So through the ALPHABET . . . . . .I will play
Starting right here . . . here with the letter A
AND a rather silly nonsense poem, to end the day.

So to the distant sound of a mad dogs bark.
I’ll start AT the start with thee AARDVARK.


The BEE and the BEAR met a BEAVER
Who looked rather aggressive with a large meat cleaver?
He shouted be gone, BACK off, and leave me BE
I’m BUSY chopping down, this BIG tree.

So the BEE he BUZZED and the BEAR he growled
And a BANSHEE somewhere BEHIND them howled
And that then made the mad dog BARK
Then what turned up BUT another Aardvark

DAMN (again)

Here we are by the C
All blue and wavy and a little wet maybe
And we all run about on the COUNT of three.
As CRABS and CATFISH play in the bay
Or so the gnarled old Seadogs do say
But Seadogs are mad and tend to bark
Arousing the monstrous Sea Aardvark



DID the DODO DIE out or was it a DECEPTION
To avoid meeting Great DANES at a posh reception
Because all they do is shout and bark
So is the DODO now DISGUISED as a smallish Aardvark

And does your DOG get up with the lark
And chase sticks about in the park
And is it mad and tend to Bark
Annoying the park keepers trusty old and loyal Aardvark

There is bound to be a noisy squeal
As one beast gets squashed by the others heel
And  . . . . . . . (slight pause and wait)
Creates a huge ten thousand volt Arc
Which is the sort of voltage that will make a dog bark
Or light up they EYES of an adult Aardvark.

Out in the deserts of his favourite park.

They say it’s the FAULT of the barking dog
That made the FROGS FLEE into the FOG
And made the FISHERMEN turn to grog
And Yet
The constant sound of mad dogs Barks

Results in the thundering hoofs of stampeding Aardvarks 

Always look closely at an F or G
Just in case it should be the image of thee
With a sacrifice of GOAT and toasted GHEE
While witch doctors dance round . . . . . .  the sacred tree.
Shaking GOURDS  . . . . . . . and GRANNIES old Knee

And it’s good to know if GHOULS creep about in the dark(zzzzzzzz)
Your faithful dog always loudly barks
Alerting a flock of man eating Aardvarks
Who will eat the GHOULS just for larks