Tag Archives: humour

When Trigger Met Fanny

trigger-in-his-bed

THIS IS I – TRIGGER

Yesterday I went with my owner, Kevin to catch a train into London Victoria. He says he has to go into something called the office. Personally I can’t see why. I mean its much more fun chasing foxes and other wildlife in the park or taking tasty snacks from the shelves in those big stores they call supermarkets. Its most kind of staff to leave eatables just where my nose can reach them …! Anyway I digress. As I was saying, I was at Gipsy Hill station yesterday when this furry tease (she is called Fanny I understand) sat on the Oystercard reader arching her back at me. I wagged my tail furiously but she wasn’t having any of it and kept well out of my way and, to cap it all my owner told me to behave. Fancy telling me to “behave”, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth (it would be swallowed so fast it wouldn’t have time to melt)! This feline fiend has even got her own Twitter account (https://twitter.com/thegipsyhillcat). Who ever heard of a mere cat having such a thing. I demand one immediately!

rCbtWlaS

THIS IS FANNY

Yours disconsolately

 

Trigger

Family Life

The hoary

old Tory

finds glory

in the upper house.

his socialist spouse

drinks champagne

and cudgels her brains

about the renationalisation of trains.

Their Communist girl

Her head in an idealistic whirl

Buys expensive clothes

For she knows

That money on ancient trees grows.

And so the world goes!

 

 

A Poet To A Young Maiden And The Girl’s Reply

“Let us pile high the fire my dear.

Come you near

and warm the cockles of your heart.

Let us practice love’s art.

Draw closer and sit upon my knee.

Let us make free

like the amorous swan

for time rolls on

and desire, ‘tis soon gone.

 

“Sir

My mother warned me to beware

Of poets who pretty verses spin

Lest they lead me into sin.

Good night to you noble sir

I must be off and wash my hair”.

Heaven And Hell

To float on a cloud

As angels sing loud

Hymns

about the redemption of sins

Would, I think

Drive me to drink.

The devil would wink

And invite me to sink

To his abode below.

Should I choose to go

There would be good cheer.

bitter beer

and a warm fire, forever near

 

Aesop’s Fables

Waiters at tables,

hear fabulous fables.

Wine turns to water,

shehe is his daughter?

They don’t look alike,

perhaps it’s the light?

They prefer it so,

the lamp turned low.

Hey ho,

Couples come and go,

Discussing Aesop’s fables,

With those who wait at tables.

 

 

Love’s Young Dream

Her feet beat

To the music of the street.

Perfume sweet,

Makes him weak.

He would die,

For one look from those azure eyes.

Oh for a taste of those ruby red lips,

His heart skips,

As her fingers she slips,

Into his hand.

Breathlessly he waits for her command,

“I needs some grub.

Lets go to pub.

Bloke pays”.

She says,

Employing her feminine ways!