lets call the whole thing off

When you are averaging a low amount of hits

When you are trying to do the best

When if you wander what you type is shit

Then its best to take a rest.

 

 

THE END

 

Let’s call the whole thing off, Version 2.0.

 

 

Apologies to George Gershwin.

 

The love we found at the bottom of a glass
Just like my beer is growing flat.
For you like this and the other
While I go for this and that.

You say potato, I say chips,
You say brunch, I say crisps.
Potato, chips, brunch, crisps
Let’s call the whole thing off.
You like salad, I like pork scratchings
You like romantic films, I like action.
Salad, scratchings, romance, action
Let’s call the whole thing off.

But what if we did call the whole thing off ?
Then I suppose we will drift apart ?
And I imagine….
You’ll briefly break my heart ?

Nah, we’re destined to fail because…

You like boxers and I like Y-fronts
You like Phil Collins, I think he’s the antichrist.
Phil Collins, antichrist, boxers, Y-fronts
Lets call the whole thing off.

 

 

An ode to the supposedly ” ill ” person I work with.

 

So you’ve come to work with a cold
And by your overacting I’m told.
That we should be grateful you’re at work
As seemingly close to death you lurk.
But then you decide to rub it in and say,
” I don’t know how I made it in today !”
And I think, should this charade I condemn
While risking being covered in your phlegm.
I want to scream that you’re not ill
As your germs you seem to spill.
I long to shout out if you’re not well,
Why was it on me your sneeze spittle fell ?
But just to make your ” cold ” seem graver
You start to sound like an asthmatic Darth Vader.
Pausing only to gulp down cold remedies and pills
That should only be taken by the genuinely ill.
I think a change of sick policy is required
And that people like you should be attired.
In a germ warfare suit, it’s the only solution
To put an end to your supposed germ pollution.

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 7,400 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Friday melancholia

To be read quickly, preferably by muttering under your breath at work.

 

There’s a melancholy brewing in the corners of my mind
Stirring up stormy thoughts of being quite unkind.
For today there I am afraid there will be hell to pay
To any fool who even thinks of getting in my way.

My tongue lashes out as it spits acid rain
You’re caught in the shower , but I feel no shame.
As my torrential outpouring hits you in the face
You look for cover but it’s just too late.

The lightning of my wrath always strikes twice
You ventured out into my storm against the advice.
My vitriol follows like a force ten hurricane
Maybe there will be sunshine by the weekend ?

The coffee pledge.

I hope this spell of tiredness I am suffering with isn’t indicative of how the year is going to progress. Either that or I could stop staying up late to play Star Wars the Old Republic every night

 

Take the coffee pledge below before you drink your first cup of the day.

 

In coffee I trust
To cure my fatigue.
In coffee I trust
To fulfill my needs.
For an instant energy hit
For wakefulness for a bit.
To dispel my muscle ache
To dispel my vegetative state.

In coffee I trust
Above all else.
In coffee I trust
To restore my health.

 

 

On the thirteenth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me…

On the thirteenth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me
Nothing.

 

Because I had sealed my letterbox and mined the drive
No one was going to take me alive !
And present to me one more single gift
Not unless they wanted to be off my Christmas list.
However I did send out one gift of my own
A special letter to my ex true-loves home.
It came from my solicitor and said please desist
From sending impractical Christmas gifts.
And I finally got rid of all the birds squawking
By flogging them all via an Ebay auction.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me…

On the twelfth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming.

Well what with the pipers and now the drums
My hearing was going just a bit numb.
Then add in all the maids, birds and lords
And the racket being made couldn’t be ignored.
The neighbours began to bang on the walls
But I just couldn’t control it all.
Then I had some more surprise guests
It was the police, I was under arrest !
They sent me to court for disturbing the peace
And I had to pay a fine, so now I’m skint.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me…

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me
Eleven pipers piping.

 

This was perhaps the worst gift yet
As all the noise made the birds quite upset.
Causing me, the lords and all of the maids
To spend ages cleaning with mops and spades.
My house is now in a very sorry state
I’d run away but I think it’s too late.
I have to see this through to the end
Despite these gifts driving me round the bend.
I braced myself for the final day
Wandering what hell would come my way.

On the tenth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me…

On the tenth day of Christmas my ex true-love sent to me
Ten lords a leaping.

The lords leapt in they wouldn’t stop in the street
Jumping around, totally disturbing the peace.
Where is my ex true-love finding these people
And why is she sending them to me ?
Are these lords a unsubtle hint
That I will never amount to anything ?
Despondent I opened the cooking sherry
And me any my unwanted guests got merry.
My memory went blank, it got a bit wild
And now one of the maids is having a lord’s child.