The New Jerusalem

And did those tweeps in ancient times
Squawk about Twitter’s homepage screen?
And was the heavy hand of Plod
On Twitter’s pleasant timelines seen?

Or did the Tweet elite define
Henceforth our posting protocols?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Despite those dark satanic trolls?

Bring me my dial to block or scold!
Bring me my button of desire!
Bring me my tweets; secure, patrolled!
Bring me my knob of righteous ire!

I will not cease from knee-jerk fight;
Nor shall I try to understand
Till we have built a new Salem
And Twitter’s clean and safe and bland.

Churchill versus Cameron

It was announced last week that the new face of the five pound note is going to be Winston Churchill. Does that mean that in 70 years’ time David Cameron might end up with his chubby fizzog on a fiver too?

But which leader has the greater record? There’s only one way to find out! Cheap, satirical analysis.

Churchill – gave thanks to “the few”
Cameron – gave tax breaks to “the few”

Churchill – sank the Bismark
Cameron – sank the economy

Churchill – instilled the bulldog spirit
Cameron – instilled the Bullingdon spirit

Churchill – dominated by America
Cameron – dominated by A Merkel

Churchill – got our boys home from France
Cameron – left his kid in the pub

Churchill – destroyed the nazis
Cameron – destroyed the NHS

Churchill – outmanoeuvred by a great reformer
Cameron – outmanoeuvred by Boris Johnson

Churchill – gave the V-sign to the British people
Cameron – given the V-sign by the British people

Conclusion:

If they bring back the halfpenny in 2083, Cameron might just get his face on that.

I Tweeted My Way

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…!

Do you remember a grin, Miranda?

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.

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!

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.

Prince Harry in 80s TV remake…

To tweet, or not to tweet…

To tweet, or not to tweet? – that is the question.
Whether ’tis nobler when online to suffer
The links and follows of outrageous sycophants
Or to get arsey with the LOLs and ROFLs
And by unfollowing, offend them? To leave, to tweet
No more; and by a leave to say we end
The hashtags and the thousand hateful trolls
That Twitter’s home to. T’is a cancellation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To tweet, to leave.
To leave: perchance to meme! Ay, there’s the rub;
For in that tweetless death what faves may come
When we have wearied of this microblog
Must give us pause…

The Lord (of Twitter)’s Prayer

Arbiter
Of taste on Twitter
Followed be thy n@me
Thy #ff done
For thy showbiz chums
All week as it is on Friday
Give us each day your cosy set
And forgive us our jealousies
As we forgive those who subtweet against you
And feed us not into your timeline
Nor deliver us a mention
For thine is the Twitter
The column and the book deal
For #ff and #ff
RT.