A Selection Of Alternative Carols

Good King Wenceslas last looked out,

From his bedroom window.

Silly fool, he fell out,

On to a pile of red-hot cinders. 

How his bum shone red that night,

Though the frost was cruel.

Then a poor man came in sight,

Riding on a mule.

 

O come all ye unfaithful,

Playful and quite rampant,

Put your mistresses away,

And pay alimony for your infants.

 

In the bleak mid-winter,

Frosty wind made moan,

Ice & snow blocked roads,

Hemmed in by traffic cones.

 

We three kings of Orient are,

One in a bus, and one in a car,

One on a scooter,

Pipping his hooter,

Wondering where we are.

 

Away in a manger,

No crib for a bed.

This is a Premier Inn:

Lenny Henry’s paying instead.

 

Ding dong merrily on high,

In stores the tills are ringing:

Ding dong! Profits reach the sky,

And filled with owners singing.

Gloria, Bonuses in excelsis!

 

Deck the malls with loads of money,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Tis the season to act funny,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Fill the cash tills, use the plastic,

Fa la la, la la la, la la la.

Stretch your money like elastic,

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

 

While Shepherds Washed

While Shepherds Washed Their Socks By Night

While shepherds washed their socks by night,

All seated on the ground,

The Angel of the Lord came down,

And passed the soap around. 

“Fear not”, said he, for mighty suds,

Had filled their washing sink.

“Persil washes whitest of all

And does not leave a stink”. 

“To you, in Devizes Town this day,

Is given a washing-line,

A tumble-drier, built by Bosch,

And this shall be the sign.” 

“An extended warranty you shall get,

But in the smallest print,

All meanly wrapped in weasel words,

Until you’re nearly skint.” 

Thus spake the seraph, and forthwith

Appeared a shining throng

Of Comet salesmen on the make,

Who thus addressed their song: 

“All discounts be to you the buyers,

Please accept your guarantee,

And if it should go wrong all too soon,

Please don’t you bother me.”

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Parsnip, Thyme & Cheese Bread

Recipe for: PARSNIP, THYME & CHEESE BREAD

Ingredients:

• 1 tblsp sunflower oil
• 1 large onion, peeled & very finely chopped
• 180g self-raising flour
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
• 50g hard cheese (goat’s, cheddar, parmesan, or a mixture)
• 180g parsnip (peeled & grated)
• Fresh ground black pepper
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 2-3 tblsp milk

Method: 

1. heat oven to 180C/ fan 160C/ 350F/ gas 4
2. heat oil in frying pan & sauté the onion gently until soft & lightly coloured, stirring occasionally – about 10-15 minutes.  Remove from heat & allow to cool
3. in a large bowl, mix together the flour, salt, thyme, cheese, parsnip & some pepper
4. add the cooked onions & mix thoroughly
5. beat the egg lightly with the milk, then add to the dry mixture
6. mix to form a soft dough, but do not overwork. Just bring together with your fingers and a very light knead
7. shape into a small round, then place onto an oiled baking sheet
8. bake for 40-45 minutes, until the loaf is golden & makes a hollow sound when tapped on the bottom
9. leave to cool on a wire rack, before slicing

What else you need to know: 

1. serve warm or cold, spread with butter and a deep bowl of soup

I've Got A Little List

I’ve Got A Little List (with apologies to G&S – from The Mikado)

As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,

I've got a little list — I've got a little list
Of society offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed — who never would be missed! 

There’s the looters and the rioters out there on the street,

The people with sticky hands and stolen trainers on their feet.

Youths who hide behind disadvantaged backgrounds to cover up the crime,

But when it comes to working against it, just don’t seem to have the time.

There’s no real excuses for it, so I continue to insist:

They'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed!

I’ve got 'em on the list — I’ve got 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed.

There’s the dubious politicians and others of that kind,

And the self-appointed advisors – I’ve got them on the list!

And the government officials who don’t seem to pay it any mind -

They never would be missed – they never would be missed!

As long as you’ve got money, or plenty of favours for to give,

You can get easy work - as a Government lobbyist!

We’re talking about people like Werritty and Fox -

No – I don’t think that they’d be missed, I’m sure they won’t be missed.

They’re just bad sorts abusing their privileged position,

At the tax-payers’ expense – it’s time we had an Inquisition! 

I’ve got them on the list — I’ve got them on the list;
And I don't think they'll be missed — I'm sure they’ll not be missed 

And there’s them that won’t pay their taxes, no matter how much they earn,

The Revenue let them get away with it – they never seem to learn.

There’s money stashed in Switzerland and out there in Cayman,

Using accountants who run rings around us mere laymen.

But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list,
For they'd none of 'em be missed — they'd none of 'em be missed! 

Corruption and self-serving are traits that run very deep,

No-one should expect them ever to desist,

For high moral standards are things that are hard to keep.

It’s a way of life that ever will persist.

Quiet whispers, taps on the shoulder, and smoky-room deals,

That’s the way to get things done, and how to oil the wheels. 

You may put 'em on the list — you may put 'em on the list;
And they'll none of 'em be missed — they'll none of 'em be missed!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

I Remember Amnesia (I Think.....)

I Remember Amnesia

Have I told you this before?

Can I make this easier?

You can’t blame me for this,

I think it’s called amnesia. 

Have I said this already?

I don’t want to tease ya,

It’s not my fault you know –

I think it’s called amnesia. 

I don’t remember much.

I forget when I’m breezier,

Now, what was I saying?

I think it’s called amnesia. 

My memories are slippery,

Elusive and greasier,

I just can’t hang on to them –

I think it’s called amnesia. 

The other day I went – somewhere.

I must have had some sort of seizure,

It could have been anywhere,

I think it’s called amnesia. 

I was wrapped up snug and warm,

Wearing something….fleecier,

But I can’t remember what it was,

I think it’s called amnesia.

I was talking to….somebody,

I think they were from Silesia,

But it could have been anyone –

I think it’s called amnesia. 

Have I already mentioned?

I’m feeling a bit queasier,

Since whatever it was I ate –

I think it’s called amnesia. 

I hope I’m not boring you,

I only want to please ya,

But the thing is that….

I think it’s called amnesia. 

Now, have you all got that?

Oh, I wish this was easier,

Have I already told you?

I think I’ve got……

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

A New Christmas Carol

A New Christmas Carol

 

Christmas comes but once a year,

So let’s thank the Lord for that.

The turkeys are becoming nervous,

And the geese are getting fat. 

There’s fake snow everywhere,

And decorations that look tired.

Whilst down at the Job Centre

Some Santas are getting hired. 

For it’s that season of good cheer,

With yuletide adverts day & night,

But with early carol-singers

It’s hard to get a Silent Night. 

The season starts sooner every year:

In the shops they’re already selling holly.

But with all these xmas jingles about,

I’m finding it hard to keep things jolly. 

In the gloomy shopping precinct,

They’ve put up the civic lights.

But it’s hard to start getting all yo-ho-ho,

When there’s still some weeks beforeholy night. 

And in the shops they’ve got yuletide offers,

With Santa sitting in his grotto,

Selling booze at half the price,

With the promise that we’ll all get blotto. 

With new ideas for Christmas gifts,

Re-packaging of every blessed thing,

And people buying presents -

Hark! - the herald cash-tills sing. 

But Yule can be a lonely time,

Especially for those still single,

Serving to remind them of their state,

With every irritating jingle. 

TV adverts showing happy families,

Like some cosy scene in Dickens,

Gathered round a roaring fire,

Whilst we shop online like headless chickens. 

Once in Bristol’s Royal City,

You could hear a festive carol.

The prices have gone up till January:

They’ve got us over a barrel. 

So deck the halls with boughs of holly,

And ding-dong merrily on high.

When you’ve spent more than you can afford,

It’s getting time to question why. 

Good King Wenceslas didn’t have to go shopping,

Even on the Feast of Stephen.

So why do we have to try so hard,

When we’re fighting to break even? 

It’s all got very mixed up these days:

I think there’s quite a danger

Of having three TV pundits

Voting to put reindeer in the manger. 

You can’t make a snowman out of rain or sleet,

Nor find three wise men to employ.

There’s no good reason to be cheerful,

Nothing to bring tidings of comfort & joy. 

God rest ye merry gentlemen,

But you know it’s not very funny.

It’s no longer a celebration,

It’s just about the money. 

And “do they know it’s Christmas?”

Is a song you’ll probably sing.

But it’s not just about Africa

Do we really know what we’re doing? 

But I suppose I should have greater cheer,

And stop with all this huffing,

So now I’ll just say “Bah humbug!”

And “could you pass the stuffing?”


Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 9th December 2012

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – 9^th December 2012

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

·      Amazement and shock raged throughout the village this week as it was discovered that a married woman of child-bearing age was pregnant.  This added to the earlier astonishing news that bear-faeces had been found in the woods, and that the Pope is reputed to have become a Roman Catholic.

·      In his Autumn statement, the Treasurer of Bromham Parish Council, announced that the village is still over-drawn by over £7 at the local branch of Bromham Bank, and that therefore austerity measures must continue for an extra three months.  He was speaking at the annual dinner of the Parish Council, where councillors feasted upon foie gras, lobster salad, caviar and chocolate pudding, washed down with a selection of fine wines and champagne.

·      In a statement yesterday, Mr. Patrick Piglet of Piglet Industries of Bromham, revealed that he is in discussions with Bromham Shop as to how much of his newspaper bill he is going to pay next year.

·       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012