Thursday, 28 April 2011

Lazy blog post no. 1 - bandwagoneering

Luke Wright is a rather fine poet. He's written a fairly atypical poem loosely about the Royal Wedding but less loosely about class, wealth and poverty. On the eve of Waity-Katie's nuptials to Bill Wales, let me jump on the bandwagon and reproduce Luke's poem for you here. I hope he won't mind, especially if I link back to his website and the original post with the poem in it.

The Squeezed Middletons

Oh no, cried Papa Middleton on opening his Times,
the Pound has shed its value and we’re set for steeper climes.
They’re going to freeze my salary, inflation’s just increased
we’ll have to sell the horses, well a few of them at least.

Oh blow, chimed Mother Middleton, oh what a darned palaver
I’ll cut down on the champers, but I shan’t resort to cava!
What’s this?!
Young Monty Middleton let loose a stroppy roar,
no quail’s eggs for breakfast? Why Mother, are we poor?

My Darling, cried his anxious Ma, some how we’ll muddle through
but if Pa sells the chopper, well, I’m not sure what we’ll do.

But then solution came to Pa, a thought so stray and wild:
Now mother am I right to think we have another child?

Why yes, my dear your daughter Kate, we made her in the eighties
the year you did that deal with those dubious Kuwaitis.
Of course,
the red-cheeked fellow barked, the answer dear’s a cinch
we’ll peddle Monty’s sister to a emerald-laden prince!

So Kate was fetched and telegrams sent forth into the world
and soon a queue of inbred boys arrived to see the girl.
A deal was struck and cards were swiped, a son-in-law was gained
and after that the Middletons were never squeezed again.

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Lazy blog post no. 8 - the old chestnut

Included here for no other reason than this - many years ago, my brother and I used to recreate this sketch for the amusement of our parents, often in the car on long journeys. Feels like a long time ago now. I miss those simpler times.

Friday, 1 April 2011

Lazy blog post no. 9 - whimsy

A week or so ago, the cook in my works canteen had the day off, so I had occasion to walk to a cornershop in the village to buy something for lunch. Since it is only a cornershop, I settled for a sandwich and a packet of crisps - Frazzles, to be precise.

Now I haven't had proper Frazzles for a good long time, probably nearly twenty years (supermarket own-brand imitations do not count). After wolfing them down in a riot of MSG and a Mexican-wave of nostalgia, I glanced at the back of the packet. And read the following:

Did you know your favourite Frazzles have been around since 1975 and these crispy, crunchy bacon flavour bites are as delicious now as they have always been!

1975?! That's not old! That isn't long enough ago to be dressed up as heritage! I mean, 1975, that was the year I started primary school... so if Frazzles are officially old then I must be...

As if that wasn't bad enough, Smith's Crisps, the purveyors of this salted snack antique, are now nothing more than a division of Walker's. Wasn't like that when I were a lad, etc...