The Theft Of Baby Jesus

The Theft Of Baby Jesus

There’s always some-one who goes too far,

Whose judgement seems somewhat defective,

Getting Christmas all out of proportion,

And losing their sense of perspective.

The bloke in our village was one of these:

Went over the top for Noel-time tradition,

Thought the number of lights on his house,

Was some sort of yearly competition.

He had everything on display,

Such a mess, it was really a sin:

A complete mish-mash of every sort,

Every blessed thing that you might imagine.

There was Santa with all twelve of his reindeer,

Delivering presents piled up on his sleigh.

It took so many bulbs to light up this scene,

You’d have thought night had turned into day.

There were snow-men and snow-women,

Cartoon characters, the holly and ivy,

Illustrations of every blessed carol,

And tunes in a tape-loop to keep it all lively.

This guy was more than a fanatic -

Of under-statement there was no danger:

And his central tableau showed a great star,

Hovering over the scene in the manger.

There were Mary & Joseph in the stable,

With the Holy Infant, shepherds and then,

A hovering Angel of The Lord,

And a gathering of the three wise men.

And there were great piles of presents,

As if no detail could be allowed to pass,

Every type of farm-yard animal,

Not merely the ox and the ass.

A twenty-foot Christmas tree capped off the scene,

Which became a local attraction,

And the passing traffic became so bad,

That we decided we had to take action.

A group of us hatched our plot in the pub,

Which is not the best place to think straight,

But it seemed a good idea at the time,

When we’d had a few, and the hour got late.

  

The plan was to hit him where it hurt,

Something to make that daft bugger feel.

We were going to remove Baby Jesus,

Yes! – the Son of Man we plotted to steal.

We decided we’d hold Him to ransom,

And that, as the fruit of our labours,

He’d then scale down the size of his display,

And we’d be the toast of his neighbours.

We thought it’d be the simplest of raids,

To sneak in among that barrage of light,

To just steal the youthful Son of Man,

And disappear back into the night.

But we counted without so many wires,

That would cause us so many glitches -

The complex inter-connectedness,

The circuits and timers and switches.

Electricity don’t mix with stupidity –

We were pissed (to use the vernacular),

And as we made our grab for the infant,

The meltdown was truly spectacular.

Our theft was far from deft,
Taking the hostage created a ruction.

The air became blue, as the fuses all blew,

And that was the end of abduction.

The lights went out all over the house,

As the circuits became overloaded,

And there was a short-term glow in the sky,

As the whole of the creation exploded.

Then in the street and the village,

There was an end to illumination.

It carried on all down the valley,

And finally blew up the sub-station.

It was a case of a simple crime gone wrong,

And in later years, folks were heard to say,

It made a great change from the usual -

The most spectacular one-off display!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

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 till holy 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 2015

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 6th December 2015

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 6^th December 2015

                                             

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

1.       Following Wednesday’s vote in the Parish Council to extend the bombing campaign to Seend, jets took off from RAF Bromham within the hour.  Several sorties were flown overnight, the Tornado jets being armed with heat-seeking carrots and air-to-air parsnips.  A number of unmanned Reaper drones also targeted the rebels in their broccoli strongholds, using pinpoint accurate brassica weapons.

2.       Bromham’s representatives at the International Climate Change talks in Trowbridge have been arguing the case for a reduction in the area’s temperature levels.  An offer has been made to close down Bromham’s only carbon-based “dirty” power-station in Sandridge, which currently burns mangel-wurzels and sprouts, and to convert it to operate by burning surplus baler-twine and rotting fence-posts.  However, concerns have been raised regarding the disposal method for spent baler-twine, which is reported to have a half-life of several thousand years.  Since the requirement is bury the waste in a place with no atmosphere, Hungerford or Reading have been suggested as possible sites.

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

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

The Icing On The Cake

The Icing On The Cake

It was Christmas Eve in the kitchen,

Everything prepared, everything nice.

The turkey was stuffed and the veggies peeled,

So there was only the cake left to ice.

But I’d left it to the last minute,

And there wasn’t time to nip to the shop.

It was easy enough to make icing,

But nothing to decorate the top.

So my husband went out to his shed,

To see what he might be able to find,

And came back with a jar of ball-bearings,

Saying: “who’s to know? Nobody will mind.”

So I washed them and polished them bright,

Though it was all a bit of a fiddle,

And I placed them right round the edges,

With a sprig of holly in the middle.

Well, it looked proper champion,

With the large silver balls catching the light.

When my mother-in-law came the next day,

She’d be bound to admire the sight.

Well, Christmas Day came, and lovely it was,

We had our dinner, and a good drink,

Then mother-in-law eyed up the cake,

And said: “I’ll have a piece of that I think”.

So we both looked, and smothered a smile,

And with a knife I cut her a large slice.

She ate it up quickly and smacked her lips,

Saying: “that was really quite nice!”

“I’ll have another piece if you please!”

And that disappeared as fast as the first,

And then we all had a few more drinks,

As we’d all developed a thirst.

At this stage we were all stuffed to the gills.

The fire in the grate had burned down quite low,

So mother-in-law picked up the poker,

To stir it around and build up a glow.

Now we’d been eating and drinking all day:

Stuffing, and sprouts, and peas that were tinned,

And what with the turkey and the beer,

Well, it were bound to give the girl wind.

  

As she leaned and bent herself forward,

And, bearing in mind that she were quite fat,

She farted out bearings with incredible force,

And loudly assassinated the cat.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Man Wanted For Questioning

Man Wanted For Questioning

Police this morning took the unusual step of issuing a detailed description of a man they wish to interview in connection with a wide range of serious offences.

The suspect is described as being of below average height, and of stout build, bordering on the obese.  He bears a great deal of facial hair, white in colour, consisting of moustache, full whiskers and a long flowing beard.  This may have the effect of partially disguising his facial features, which are said to consist of:

·         Twinkling, sparkly eyes;

·         Glowing, almost red, nose and a

·         Jovial grin, showing white teeth;

He is known to dress in a very recognisable outfit, which may include:

·         A bright red, two-piece suit, trimmed with white fur;

·         A matching red hat, also white-trimmed, tapering to a point with a white pom-pom;

·         A pair of black snow-boots, with trousers tucked in;

·         Black leather belt, tightly cinched at the waist;

·         A pair of wire-framed spectacles;

·         A bulging sack, carried over the left shoulder.

He is often seen wearing a broad grin, and is reported to frequently utter such phrases as “Ho, ho, ho!”, “Have you been good this year?” and “What can I do for you little girl?”

The suspect is wanted in virtually every country in the world.  Interpol have revealed that he is a global criminal, and uses many aliases and different identities to avoid detection and capture.  These include:

·         Kris Kringle

·         Santa Claus

·         Saint Nicholas

·         Father Christmas

·         and Sinterklaas

He is thought to be of North Pole-ish extraction, although his exact nationality is not known.  He has been reported to travel without a passport, crossing international frontiers undetected and with complete impunity.  His criminal associates include:

·         reputed “magic” elves, but also

·         pixies and

·         dwarves

He travels worldwide, using a high-speed sleigh (registration mark unknown), propelled by a number of reindeer, who go by such names as Rudolph, Donner, Blitzen, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet and Cupid, although these too are thought to be mere aliases.

Inspector Foot, of The Yard, stated:  “this is a very dangerous man, and he should not be approached by members of the general public.  Any sightings should be reported directly to the police, who will deal with the matter.  He is wanted in connection with a variety of crimes including:

·         paedophilia – he has been observed “grooming” small children, by offering them sweets and small presents, encouraging them in close, intimate contact by sitting them on his knee, inviting them to put their hands into his “sack” to pull out a goody, and by visiting them in schools, hospitals and children’s parties.  Through his so-called “charity” work, he has been given unfettered access to the bedrooms of small, sleeping children, where he has been free to carry on his sickening activities in comparative secrecy;

·         housebreaking and burglary – he has been reported entering a wide range of private houses without permission from the householder.  His specialism, and trade-mark, is in forcing an entrance by way of the chimney to the property;

·         fraud and deception – goods and services have been ordered from him, which have either never been delivered at all, or have been delivered in a different specification to that required.  When customers have attempted to contact this Mr Claus, no phone-number or business address has been discovered.  Mail sent to Mr Claus at The North Pole has been returned unopened;

·         Health & Safety and Industrial Relations violations – his workshops near the North Pole have been discovered to exploit elvic workers by paying less than the minimum wage, by denying rest-breaks to elves, and by operating these workshops under sweatshop conditions during certain seasons of the year, especially September to December, then laying workers off without pay in the January period;

·         Animal cruelty – his nine reindeer are reported to have been driven around the globe for long periods without a rest, pulling extremely heavy loads through appalling weather conditions;

Inspector Foot added:  “we would very much like to talk to this man.  He is known to go to ground for nine or ten months of the year, but usually makes a sudden rush of appearances around the Christmas period, when we are often inundated with sightings.  Our job has been made that much harder by the recent phenomenon of members of the public dressing up in imitation of the suspect.  However, I cannot stress strongly enough that this man is not a charming, quaint, folk-lore hero.  He is a vicious international criminal intent on spreading his particular blend of “tidings of great joy”.

A large reward, consisting of £500 of Comet vouchers, has been offered for any information leading directly to this man’s capture.

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

How To Cook Your Christmas Turkey

How To Cook Your Christmas Turkey

1.       Buy your turkey, free range or organic if possible

2.       Wash the turkey in cold running water, pat try & allow to sit at room temperature

3.       Have a glass of wine

4.       Prepare your mixture of choice, and stuff the turkey

5.       Have a glass of wine

6.       Bring the temperature of the oven up to 180C

7.       Put the stuffed turkey into a roasting dish, and put turkey in the oven

8.       Relax and have a glass of wine

9.       Turk the bastey every 30 minutes or so

10.   Wine a glass another get

11.   Hunt for the meat thermometer

12.   Glass yourself another pour of wine

13.   Turkey the bake for at leasht four hours

14.   When the clear run juices, done is the turkey

15.   Take the oven out of the turkey

16.   Bottle the finish of wine

17.   Relax the drink and have a glass of turkey

18.   Tet the sable

19.   Wonder where the roasht potatoesh and veggies are

20.   Get another wottle of bine

21.   Turk the carvey!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015

Chard Gratin

Recipe for: CHARD GRATIN

Ingredients:

• 750g chard
• 500ml cream
• 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• Nutmeg
• Salt & pepper
• 2 handfuls breadcrumbs
• 2 handfuls grated cheddar

 Method:

1. heat oven to 180C/ fan 170C
2. smear inside of a gratin dish with butter
3. wash the chard & separate stems & leaves
4. boil or steam the chard, giving longer to the stems than the leaves
5. drain & squeeze out excess moisture
6. layer the chard in the gratin dish
7. mix the cream with the garlic and a good grating of nutmeg, salt & pepper, then pour over the chard in the dish
8. scatter the top with breadcrumbs & cheese
9. bake in the oven for about 40 minutes, or until the top is golden & bubbling

 What else you need to know:

1. this recipe also works with spinach, fennel, broccoli etc