A warning for those who like me, detest soap operas.
I broke my nose today,
While sitting home alone,
I turned a deathly grey,
When I smashed my septum bone!
It’s really rather odd,
The way it came about,
As I sat here on my todd,
My feet swelled up wae gout!
I really hate those soaps,
Wae their lang wan greetin face,
Disaster and nae hopes,
They’ve no’ a saving grace!
But the intros they’re the worst,
When yon jingles fill the room,
It makes ma bottom burst,
Foretellin’ doom and gloom.
So I sat down wae ma read,
And cast aff woes and care,
I felt ma stress recede,
Jist like ma lang gone hair!
But I’d kept the telly low,
Wan ear kept on the news,
In case that they wid show,
Some bits o’ Celtic views.
Direction to readers….Deep sombre voice here please
But then disaster loomed,
Tae bust ma peace and quiet,
Satanic musak boomed,
It nearly caused a riot!
I dashed for the remote,
As the ‘Neighbours’ racket boomed,
Jist one mair blinkin’ note,
Ma sanity was doomed!
But in my rush of panic,
Made one step and nae mair,
I sunk like the titanic,
My nose crashed on the flair.
I thought this was the end
As the pain shot through ma heid,
The front door then opened,
Ma kin thought I was deid!
And then they started moanin’
Laughin’ at ma plight,
Though blooded I lay groanin’,
Ma scuddy bared tae sight.
Forgetting where I’d sat,
A memory that rankles,
I’d tripped upon the mat,
Wae ma trousers round ma ankles!
Lesson!
If you hate soaps and you are going to read in the loo wae the door open, don’t leave the telly on BBC1.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
In Gods Name?
Another day, another 100 dead and dying. Civilised are we? Have we all learned nothing!
And remember it is 'us' who either vote them in or allow them to be voted in!
The fires of Armageddon stoked by oil’s greed and selfish souls,
The rain of innocence-destroying bolts of Satan’s lightning and Hades’red hot coals
are sent from hell to burn and raze a thousand children’s smiles and play
From the promised lands that once we sought and now we try to blow away!
No more we strive to live and learn and with each day to take a stride
Towards the light from which we shield our mindless eyes and still we hide
Behind the veil of wilful hate and scorn the lessons history has taught
That pain and anguish meted out are not the products of higher thought!
As God, Iehovah, or Allah writhes as each of you claim that he stands
With you, as genocide is wreaked and he stares at his guilty bloodied hands
And then he welcomes those that you have condemned as the devil’s kith and kin,
For you to meet again one day when you depart! So ask yourself, what did you win!
And remember it is 'us' who either vote them in or allow them to be voted in!
The fires of Armageddon stoked by oil’s greed and selfish souls,
The rain of innocence-destroying bolts of Satan’s lightning and Hades’red hot coals
are sent from hell to burn and raze a thousand children’s smiles and play
From the promised lands that once we sought and now we try to blow away!
No more we strive to live and learn and with each day to take a stride
Towards the light from which we shield our mindless eyes and still we hide
Behind the veil of wilful hate and scorn the lessons history has taught
That pain and anguish meted out are not the products of higher thought!
As God, Iehovah, or Allah writhes as each of you claim that he stands
With you, as genocide is wreaked and he stares at his guilty bloodied hands
And then he welcomes those that you have condemned as the devil’s kith and kin,
For you to meet again one day when you depart! So ask yourself, what did you win!
Can You......?
As the season 2006/2007 approaches and the talking’s over, me and big T are about get on the old merry-go-round again.
All aboard for another tumultuous ride of hope and glory, dreams and drams, points and pints, and one more season of sticking it right up the anally retentive reactionary forces of ludditic skid-marks who inhabit the burrows of hatred and spew their words of venom!
Can you feel it in your heart, can you feel it in your soul,
Can you feel the rising tide of pride as the breakers peak and roll,
Can you hear the those urging whispers turn to roaring calls and cheers,
Can you see the Hoops and Paradise shine bright and vanquish fears?
Can you taste the Celtic sweetness, can you touch the Celtic sky,
Can you stride with hope and glory with your Celtic head held high,
Can you hold the burning dream fire, can your smile light up the dark?
Of course you can, and so can I, as we march to Celtic Park!
Hail Hail
All aboard for another tumultuous ride of hope and glory, dreams and drams, points and pints, and one more season of sticking it right up the anally retentive reactionary forces of ludditic skid-marks who inhabit the burrows of hatred and spew their words of venom!
Can you feel it in your heart, can you feel it in your soul,
Can you feel the rising tide of pride as the breakers peak and roll,
Can you hear the those urging whispers turn to roaring calls and cheers,
Can you see the Hoops and Paradise shine bright and vanquish fears?
Can you taste the Celtic sweetness, can you touch the Celtic sky,
Can you stride with hope and glory with your Celtic head held high,
Can you hold the burning dream fire, can your smile light up the dark?
Of course you can, and so can I, as we march to Celtic Park!
Hail Hail
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
And Flo makes 30 Million down the drain
And so it came to pass that in the Under 19 international qualifiers, 6 Celtic players were the foundation of the successful Scotland side, and 2 were included in the valiant but sadly unsuccessful Irish team.(obviously not enough Celtic players)!
I Can't for the life of me find any representation from the £14m gingerbread cottage up the road there.
Do you think it may have something to do with the Management!!!!! AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!
I will go and wash my mouth out with Sulphuric acid (or McKewans Lager)!
I do however gather that on receiving this news DM, as he is known to his closest associates and those who are too thick to remember his full name (Stand up Bazza and Boab - I blame Catholic Schools) considered this small hole in his Auchenowie strategy and CV!
The dying rays of the crimson sun shone low across the grass,
No sound was heard, no move was made, but the old man cried ‘alas,
This kingdom cost me so much gold, but the soil proved deid and dry’
And now the Tumbleweed just blaws o’er this desert in Milngavie.
‘Ten thousand fresh faced hopeful huns have tried tae pass the test,
We graded all and like Homepride we kept those who were best!
A hundred? Fifty? Mibbee five? Ach huv anither go!
Old Hubbard’s cupboard had mair bones…. 12 million less than Flo!’
‘We’ve tried the lot’ wee John Brown said backed up by Monkey Durrant,
‘At least there’s Boab, big FTP, and he’s a true bun Currant!’ (sorry about that!)
‘That dope! That erse! That waste of air, he couldnae cross a road,
He wance wis kissed by a princess fair who turned intae a toad’.
A million quid gets flushed away wae every passin’ year,
For all the talent that’s been honed it dis seem awfy dear,
‘Ah know ah said if Celtic spent a five then ten ah’d blow,
Ah come on lads, wis jist a joke, besides ah’ve nae mair dough.’
‘Ah’ve sold the shops, ah’ve sacked the staff, ah’m pawnin aw ma shares
Ah’ve conned the fans, the Rangers Trust, ah’ve caught them unawares,
They think they’re givin’ Rangers cash tae challenge Europes best,
The poor wee fools, ah’ve got their shirt, an’ they’ve ‘simply the vest!’
He wiped the tears that filled his eyes and thought of all his dosh,
‘That bastard Advocaat’s to blame, he talked a load of tosh,
He said the Tims would fall behind, their fate would soon be sealed
Alas alack, state of the Art’s been found at Barrowfield!’
I Can't for the life of me find any representation from the £14m gingerbread cottage up the road there.
Do you think it may have something to do with the Management!!!!! AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!
I will go and wash my mouth out with Sulphuric acid (or McKewans Lager)!
I do however gather that on receiving this news DM, as he is known to his closest associates and those who are too thick to remember his full name (Stand up Bazza and Boab - I blame Catholic Schools) considered this small hole in his Auchenowie strategy and CV!
The dying rays of the crimson sun shone low across the grass,
No sound was heard, no move was made, but the old man cried ‘alas,
This kingdom cost me so much gold, but the soil proved deid and dry’
And now the Tumbleweed just blaws o’er this desert in Milngavie.
‘Ten thousand fresh faced hopeful huns have tried tae pass the test,
We graded all and like Homepride we kept those who were best!
A hundred? Fifty? Mibbee five? Ach huv anither go!
Old Hubbard’s cupboard had mair bones…. 12 million less than Flo!’
‘We’ve tried the lot’ wee John Brown said backed up by Monkey Durrant,
‘At least there’s Boab, big FTP, and he’s a true bun Currant!’ (sorry about that!)
‘That dope! That erse! That waste of air, he couldnae cross a road,
He wance wis kissed by a princess fair who turned intae a toad’.
A million quid gets flushed away wae every passin’ year,
For all the talent that’s been honed it dis seem awfy dear,
‘Ah know ah said if Celtic spent a five then ten ah’d blow,
Ah come on lads, wis jist a joke, besides ah’ve nae mair dough.’
‘Ah’ve sold the shops, ah’ve sacked the staff, ah’m pawnin aw ma shares
Ah’ve conned the fans, the Rangers Trust, ah’ve caught them unawares,
They think they’re givin’ Rangers cash tae challenge Europes best,
The poor wee fools, ah’ve got their shirt, an’ they’ve ‘simply the vest!’
He wiped the tears that filled his eyes and thought of all his dosh,
‘That bastard Advocaat’s to blame, he talked a load of tosh,
He said the Tims would fall behind, their fate would soon be sealed
Alas alack, state of the Art’s been found at Barrowfield!’
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