Archive | February, 2013

I Tweeted My Way

22 Feb

And now, the end is near 
And so I face my final homepage
My friends, my aim is clear 
I’ll post a joke, nicked from the Bronze Age
I’ve crammed my tweets with crap
And revelled in some twisted wordplay
But more, much more than this, I tweeted my way 

Retweets, I’ve had a few 
But mainly due, to heavy drinking.
I’d rant without a clue, and have a view, though never thinking
I’d whine at Mail Online, but every time, I’d stick a link in 
And more, much more than this, I tweeted my way 

Yes, there were times, I had no shame,
When I RT’d my own acclaim,
And through it all, though there were trolls,
I blocked the twats, and took the LOLs
Yes, I hash-tagged, and humble-bragged, and tweeted my way 

I’ve starred, DM’d and tried
To boost my count, my share of follows
And now, subtweets aside, I find it all so hard to swallow
To think I did all that
And buttered up with Follow Fridays
Oh no, that wasn’t me, I tweeted my way.

For what is this thing, this microblog? 
If not a means to spout and flog?
To say the things we think are hip, and wallow in an ego-trip
I tried the lot – and now I’m shot – I tweeted my way…!

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Do you remember a grin, Miranda?

12 Feb

Do you remember a grin

Miranda?

Do you remember a grin?

And the knowing and the showing

Of the joke (easy going)

And the aside like a guide to where the punchlines reside

And the wink that lasted for an hour?

And the slips and the trips and the pratfalling quips

(like a loveable clumsy panda)?

Do you remember a grin, Miranda?

Do you remember a grin?

 

And the slips and the trips and the pratfalling quips

Which were only kind of funny

But which were always easy money

And your mother at the door yet again?

And the shop mishap

In the lap

Of the chap with the beard, kind of weird

How this girl he’s after

Is dafter than laughter

Happy ever after?

Crashing and then flashing him your knickers –

Here’s the vicar!

And the sing-song thing at the end.

Do you remember a grin

Miranda?

Do you remember a grin?

 

No more;

Miranda,

No more.

How the critics abhor

And audience’s starting to snore.

The plots

Are balls and the falls in your smalls

Got thin

But still you can mug to the camera

Until they fill

Your

(as I like to call it)

Slot.

For Huhne the bell tolls.

7 Feb

There once was a fella called Huhne
Who drove like a bit of a loon
His wife took the heat
Till he started to cheat
Now he wont be back anytime soon

Hello you!

4 Feb

Hello You!

Hello You!
With your circular email
That oozes news
In bewildering detail
You’re sincere to a fault
But there’s one tiny tell-tale…

I’m flattered
That for a fleeting second
You reckoned
The opinion
Of this unnamed minion
Mattered

Goodbye You.