Thought for the day: "Solutions are not the answer" - Richard Nixon

Tuesday, December 14, 2004


Hurray for Mr. Churchill

Further to my bad debating poetry of a few weeks back, and despite popular demand, here is some more. This is from a balloon debate, where one has to defend someone or something from being thrown out of a balloon that is rapdily descending to the ground. My chosen topic was Winston Churchill, and I survived the fray only marginally longer than socialism (losing to Scotland, Potato Lakka, and Furry Kittens). Alas, or perhaps thank God, therefore most of this was never heard...


Apologies everyone, for I’m afraid it’s that time,
Where I try to confound you, by speaking in rhyme,
Thought you may be quite tempted, to sling me out now,
My terribly bad poetry, I beg you to allow

The preliminary defence

It’s yours to throw out, whomsoever you will
But listen to my pleas, for I’m Winston Churchill
I may not be pretty, I’m advanced in my years
But still, I can offer, blood toil sweat and tears

Roses are Red...

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
Keep me in and I’ll owe
So much to you few

When a couple have already been thrown out

The crowd in this balloon appears to be thinning,
Not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning,
And remember I made, many more famous speeches
I fought them on the hills, in the streets and on the beaches

A limerick

There once was a nasty dictator
A freedom, and democracy hater
He tried to invade;
But his end I soon made
So please don’t throw me out until later

Defence to objections

Now you may want me out, cos you don’t like my tricks:
Always changing party, not to mention my politics,
But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:
A man not a Liberal at twenty may have no heart; but a man not a Tory at 40 has no brain

The crap one to keep in case needed

I've lived for my country I've fought on the front,
Of this countries turbulation, I've taken the brunt,
And don't hold against me, my whisky driven pallour,
Remembered I said 'be ye men of valour'

The Grand Finale

W is for war: the one that I won
Driving away the dastardly hun

I is for Iron: I saw it descend
Cross all Eastern Europe did the curtain extend

N is for Never: before in the field,
Of human conflict, has such greatness been revealed

S is for stupid those who didn't hear
When the Munich agreement, I told them to fear

T is for trollied: which I cannot deny.
But it’s no bar to greatness to drink the world dry

O is for outrage that anyone tried
To suggest it be me, that we throw over t'side


N is for now: the end’s where we’re at
Please don’t throw me out, for I’d hate to go ‘splat’


you are tiberius
Tiberius was the second emperor of Rome. His
mother wanted it more than he was. He had to
leave his wife to marry Julia, the daughter of
Augustus. He never really cared much for
politics. Later on in life, he moved to the
island of Capri, turning it into an island of
depravity and sex.

What Julio-Claudian Roman Emperor are you?
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My inner child is ten years old today

My inner child is ten years old!

The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.

How Old is Your Inner Child?
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No animals were harmed during the making of this blog. Apart from any cats kicked by the author whilst frustrated at his inability to work out this bloody hmtl gunk.

With the exception of the author, this blog does not contain any nuts.

As a firm believer in the right to freedom of speech and freedom of expression, the author would like it to be known that if anything whatsoever in this blog happens to offend somebody, he is happy not only to retract it but also to deny ever having written it.

This blog can help weight loss only as part of a calorie controlled diet.

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