Category: humor

Stan wants a meringue.

Stan and Annie were clearing a big desk to make space to study government
statistics.Despite this Annie was dressed as brightly as a mad peacock on l s d. in turquoise cotton trousers and a teal blue viscose   and polyester [with 5 percent elastane  V necked striped top.She chose the V neck was because she thought it made her look slimmer but if that were so it was contradicted, somewhat paradoxically, by the clinging induced by the elastane in the fabric.
What a problem dressing is nowadays she murmured.Her bedtime reading was “Contradiction, Paradox,Woman and Society” by the unknown,unseen yet internationally famous author Dr K. R. Craibaite “Paradox and contradiction are the route to understanding” was the  last sentence she had read before she fell asleep last night.Then. she had dreamed she saw a mouse eating a lion.No wonder she had indigestion today.
“Shall I make the coffee” she said to Stan.
“No,dear.I’ll do it if you can get the graph paper sorted.”
Stan stood up and walked across the room with a dazed expression.
“I hope he’s not been trying self hypnosis again” she thought quixotically.He returned with two large mugs of steaming hot coffee.
“Would you like a meringue” he enquired.
“I’d love one.”
“So would I,” he answered glumly.”But we have no cake at all.”
“I blame Tony Blair.”
“Why him?”
“Well,I have to blame someone,don’t I?”
“Why not blame yourself”
Stan began to sob and moan.
So Annie rang 999.”Can you send a paramedic.My friend needs a
meringue.” she said in a friendly tone.
“What do you think the N.H.S. is , a cake shop?” the receptionist replied assertively in ringing tones.
“Well,we older folk need cakes!”Annie cried.
“How old are you,” the lady said.
“Why is there some cut off point?” Annie retorted…
..”Yes,we only supply meringues to centenarians!” she was told.
“Well really,whatever next,” Annie cried in shock.
“I suppose they have to economise now and can no longer supply cakes and ale to pensioners like they used to do.”
But we could send you some toasted mouse sandwiches,” she was told.
“Don’t bother,” she cried fortuitously.
The heat had made her makeup run and small rivers of turqouise,black and blue were crossing her face giving it the appearance of a large bruise.She wished she had followed the advice her mother had given her,
“When in doubt,leave it out”
Or,was it “when in doubt,say nowt” or even
“when glum ,keep mum.
“I would have kept Mum,”she thought resentfully, “but the law won’t let you once they die”.
“Why do we have so little freedom here in England?” she asked Stan querulously
.”I can’t tell you” he croaked mysteriously.
“Why not?”
It’s forbidden by the Official Secrets Act.”
“After we finish the statistics on unemployment and mental health we could look into Official Secrets,” he promised her mellifluously.
“Stan, you are so good.” she said gratefully.
Will you wash my new jeans?” he asked.
“Why can’t you do it?” she fretfully quizzed him
“I don’t want Mary to see them.”
“Gosh it’s 5pm .She’ll be back soon.
“We’ve not got far today.
I expect we can make up for it tomorrow.”
Not wanting to contradict him she remained silent whilst he studied her face like an a psychologist trying and failing to see meaning in an ink blot.
Then the doorbell rang.It was Dave,the paramedic with a tray of mouse sandwiches.What a lovely  surprise that was.
Hello,Dave,Annie cried.I love your slim jeans.
“They shrunk in the washing machine but as they are stretch jeans they still fit.” he told her gently.
“You can say that again” muttered Stan.As for Emile,he had blushed as soon as he saw them.”My goodness,he’ll do himself an injury,”he thought.”Still,it’s free country at the moment.

Stan and Mary go shopping

Stan and Mary went in town
To buy Stan a new dressing gown.
But he  needs a woollen one
In March that is not on.

 

The shops are full of summer clothes
But Stan’s not warm enough for those.
Mary likes to look around
But see how old Stan frowns.

So Mary says,I’ll go online
I’m sure I’ll find some fully lined
Made of wool and acrylic
Them you can make your pick.

Thank you,Mary,you are kind
Despite that brilliant,anxious mind.
I am the best dressed man intown
And soon I’ll have my gown.

Would you like cafe au lait?
I have my pension,I shall pay.
Very nice,dear Mary said.
I’d like a piece of bread.

Won’t you have a slice of cake?
I know it’s not quite what I make.
No,just plain bread,sweet Mary said
She then turned very red.

Mary,you look very hot
Is it healthy in this spot.
The central heating is too high
She gave a weary sigh.

They drank their coffee and made jokes
About old folk who never spoke…
They bought some fresh fish for Emile..
They alway shop with zeal.
..
When they got home.Stan dialled Dave
Who told him he was very brave
and not to stand near a bus door…
Or he’d fall on the floor.
.
Oh,how I’d like to lie down there
With my mistress Annie fair.
but Mary is at home today
So i’ll just have to pray.

If you’re in pain and can’t have sex,
They say that prayer is second best
Morphine is so hard to get
And it makes me feel sick.

So tomorrow Mary works
Stan and Annie have their perks
Dave calls round to bath the cat.
How obscene is that?

If you would like your cat washed
Or if your shopping has got squashed
Just dial 99999
The service is divine

Incongruous clothes

Incongruous outfits are scorned

As is clothing both dirty and torn

So buy all in one colour.

Bur don’t make it yellow.

As bees and wasps love you adorned.

 

Yellow  attracts comments galore

As if men’ve not seen you before.

Try teal and blue

They’re both good for you.

Not incongruous with clothing  and more.

Love me like a tea of finest brew



Oh,take me hold me,love me like you do

With kisses sweet, commend me  to your heart

Love me like  a tea of finest brew.

Love me like a coxes pippin tart.

oh,dance  me,swing  me, let me feel alive.

And let me feel your melody anew.

We get what we desire yet don’t deserve.

When one  is made from  love between the two.

Oh. lend me your  maths textbooks for   a while

I love  irrational numbers like a child.

and transcendental  pies do me beguile

i  feel tonight  my numbers dancing wild.

So ambiguous is  my attitude to men

I wave and then I particle again


	


	



			
				


			

			
Rules for impatient inpatients
		
	
	

		






5356006_967ca7cd14_mNo mobile groans are allowed in this hospital.
















Please faint on the bed only.Or if pushed,faint onto the nurse’s station.






No lipstick to be worn at night by spirits

.

Do not attack the doctor.He is only a pest here.


Pills must be swallowed when you  drink your own water.


Do not undress in this cubicle.Undress outside before entry.Leave your clothes in the bin for people to steal on demand (X ray unit]


Kindly tell us your name before we drug you.


If afraid please report to the nurse in  rhyming verse

.

If no night nurse is available please die after 8 am.


If you must have sex in the ward, please do not scream or moan as the other patients may be jealous.


If you have no relations please ask the doctor to oblige when he finishes his rounds.


If you feel weak,do not use your Kindle Fire on the bed


After a heart attack do not resume sex until you get home unless you had the heart attack here in which case please feel free to continue either or both..


Sex is a form of exercise but also can create chaos in public.Try walking instead with or


without a partner.


If borderline kindly make your mind up whether you love or hate the pest doctor




If we have to freeze your nuts off, we will do so with levity.


If you have no bosom,you are probably a man.Wards are now mixed so there is no.


problem apart from a shortage of braziers.


If you have any  loose nuts,please leave them in the hands of a female nurse prior to surgery.


Cover all your parts before the Royals visit.


Please leave me all your money before you leave the ward when about to pass over


Sex changes by an operation or sometimes naturally.


Are you bored in bed?Get out and walk up and down the corridor to annoy the visitors.


Kindly do not drum your fingers all day.Use a drumstick.


If you have erosive dermatitis, please dry carefully.


If you have an egg please donate now.Fertility counts.


Owing to a world shortage of egg cups,we now use mugs to eat from and saucers for our tea.


Do you have any further problems?Please weigh your words before you start

None of the staff understand the government…so please do not mention David Cameron if you wish to go home on one piece.


Pies are sold in the conservatory.We do not know why.


In fact we know hardly anything but don’t worry,we’ll treat you barbarically anyway.


Be a stoic and keep still.We all die  one day.Or night.





	


	



			
				


			

			
Stan in hell
		
	
	

		
 


 













    

  • 

    

    Stan was standing on the patio when a sudden downpour drenched him all over.
    
This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also getting very  wet.
    
A head appeared over the fence.
    
I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.
    
Wow,I don’t believe it.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you as a student… you were hopeless at logic then
    
Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former  tutor at an ancient foundation of learning and sin, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved once more [now he has swept out his sacred space and put a bolt on the door.]
    
Why not pop in Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment.
    
Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat..He gazed into his wife’s mirror.
    
To his surprise he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for sinful Catholics he had never met Satan before.
    
How do you get behind the mirror,he asked gently.
    
God only knows,said Satan morosely.
    
Why not ask him? Stan offered.
    
I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice.
    
Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest  size in the universe.
    
Yes,indeed,Satan answered.
    
Are you here for any special purpose,Stan enquired.
    
Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman.
    
I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur.
    
That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,no woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part.
    
You must be very lonely,said Stan
    
Yes,the dark spirit muttered.I am.
    
Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?
    
I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad a me,I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!Free as well.
    
Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.That’s what we want too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there
    
Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his organs to Rudolf.
    
Are you ok?I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have put your kettle on the fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid.
    
But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded anxiously.
    
Well,you do now said Rudolf,so let’s enjoy the flames while we can.
    
To whom were you talking in there?
    
I was on my mobile,said Stan defensively.
    
But where was it?You had nothing on ?
    
On second thoughts,please don’t tell me.I’ve heard some strange stories but arsing about with a why,hi phone is not one I wish to dwell on.
    
That’s logicians for you.No interest in the wilder shores of life ,Stan told himself as he went downstairs and joined Rudolf in a good cup of tea with sugar and biscuits
    
And that is what I need to recover from writing down this very odd tall story…
    
And so does Dave the poor young paramedicKindly refrain from reblogging or re- tweeting as amusement often offends.
    

    Please read with baited breath.You may catch something.
    

    Do not email you comments to me at :kitswits@hellsangels..co.uk
    

    nor at  :cleverlady@hotmail.hell.com
    

    

    

    Thank you for obeying me.You will ge rewarded in Devonn.
    

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Mary is worrried:tales from the UK
		
	
	

		










On Saturday afternoon after luncb ,or midday dinner as we said up north before winning places in posh universities  which stole our native language, Mary began to feel very nervous, as she was going to the hospital with Stan on Monday for his next appointment with Dr.Range Rover.

Mary was puzzled.She felt almost happy last week about seeing this kind hearted and gracious well dressed female doctor.However she had been shunted sideways onto a male doctor who was almost totally silent.. so much so that he seemed to absorb Mary’s questions into his sponge of a brain without feeling the need to respond.

Why do I feel so apprehensive this week? Mary asked her dear black cat Emile.

After all.I was happy to see her or to even have a biopsy last weekend.Why have I changed in my feelings so much in a week?

Does it matter? purred Emile.

Maybe your mood is affected by something else.. like fatigue or housework or the ravages of age… [he was well read]

We don’t always know why we feel a certain way but I feel it’s good if we are willing to accept these negative moods.Even I have my moods when the fish you get me is not the right sort and you don’t give me my cat’s handkerchief neatly ironed.

You are so wise,Emile,especially as,being a cat,you never have to endure these interviews with consultants in horrible outpatients clinics.So you must have a wonderful empathy for humans

This lady doctor tomorrow is exciting me,cried Emile loudly.May I come  with you inside your Grace Kelly handbag.

What’s wrong with my shopping bag? Good grammar,by the way..

Well,she wil be surprised if you take a heavy shopping bag even if it has a Mondrian design on it… she may get suspicious.. even paranoid.If I am in your handbag she will not realise.

Not unless you miaow,mused Mary benignly as she smiled down at him her singular eyes gleaming like the headlamps on a Roller.

I like to know the reason for things,she continued somewhat frantically.I think therefore I might be eventually.I am not yet,for sure.

Does everything have a reason,shouted Stan querulously from the hall…

Well ,it does,but it might be beyond human understanding like the Burning Bush..

We can only perceive what our language permits unless we are poets,mystics or artists and even then it’s tough to venture into the unknown,unthought or unknowable..

languages develop in societies and learning your language embeds you in many cultural assumptions without you realising it.You think it’s reality when it is just one perspective.

How true,screeched Annie their neighbour from outside the open patio door.


She stopped there in her teal velour tracksuit with pink bra peeping and  with  unusually  orange  lipstick  and  toning turquoise  eyeshadow and   on her feet were striped trainers with  red lights on which might give men the wrong idea about this pure and rich lady

You seem to be overthinking,she said to Mary.Are you sickening with the heat?It’s like loving too much, which may be co-dependency.

That’s a very silly pc word,said Stan rudely.We are all dependent but men can hide it until their wives run away with the milkman and they get a shock not knowing how much they’d miss her changing the sheets and buying their underpants and socks.And ironing their hankies

Surely that’s not the main reason a man might miss his wife,cried Mary as she carried in the tea tray with a big white insulated teapot.

Well,you can go on the web and find a virtual sex partner or even buy a dummy woman. but it’s tough to find a devoted woman who knows what you need to function.

Why don’t you buy your own underwear and use tissues?,asked Emile

Well,Emile,I put out the rubbish and wash the heavy Le Creuset pot.I see to the car and bikes.I paint the fence and even bake cakes.

Mary washes the clothes and changes the sheets unless she has an idea to write down.She kindly does all the worrying for both of us and I remain calm like a lighthouse.We complement each other ideally.. and we love each other and a few others as well..without giving away our secrets

That’s one waay of describing it,thought Mary without commenting out loud

Anyway,I am still wondering why I feel nervous about Dr Range Rover….

If you accepted the nervusness it might ease,said Annie wisely in her highly pitched  voice like a car siren going off at night

Just then the doorbell rang.It was Dave the bisexual transvestite paramedic.

Emile phoned 999 saying Mary was having kittens, he said rapidly.This really must stop;inter species sex is not allowed here like most sexual activity

He was speaking metaphorically or is it metonymically,Stan groaned.

Now you are here go and make us a fresh pot of tea and admire my new tea caddy.I bought it for Mary last week in that  new  ironmonger’s shop in town.

At your service,sir,Dave said politely,his flowered dress waving in the breeze.

Do you know anything about Dr Range Rover,Dave? Annie murmured

What is her reputation etc

Some people like her, Dave said,Usually men.she’s not so good with women..

Well it’s too late to change thought Mary so I shall have to willingly endure the agony of meeting her again as I cannot leave Stan on his own with her…

why who knows what might happen? She might become his mistress as he likes several nowadays. despite nearly being too thin to live…

God only knows, a little voice said.

Hello,said Mary.I’ve not heard from you lately.

Well,I am still here looking after you

Thank you, Lord,I love you, Mary shouted joyfully to the surprise of Stan and Annie, not to mention the cat Emile who was unlearned in the religion of his owners.

I thought you were an atheist,Annie said with horror.

I am an atheist and I still  believe in God.It’s what we call a paradox..Mary cried graciously….

What would Wittgenstein have said?

Whereof one cannot understand,therof one must be patient and tolerant,.

Why does Mary need to understand all her feelings…Stan wondered

When it’s raining she doesn’t spend hours wondering why and similarly if it’s raining in her heart she must take it like parched grass…she thinks too much.

Too much for what? Her sanity perhaps which has at times bei.ng doubtful but that has made her very understanding to those who find life hard.Everyone has value,even mad,nervous half blind, supersensitive, vulnerable,stout arthritic female mathematical geniuses like Mary.She enriches the tapestry of life in a very real sense as someone once said

And so say all of us,she’s a jolly good Fellow of All Proles College,Oxenford..you know how famous it is!Or soon will be.







	


	



			
				


			

			
My beloved is mine
		
	
	

		
IMG_0012




https://youtu.be/zz75P1pziM4






My Love, Antonia


Your skin glows likea comical pear in deep sunlight;

You smell as sweet as the unlaundered clothes in a Charity Shop

without even a deodorant to your name,

My yearning heart dotes on your lilting voice

and leaps like a seasick kitten at the whisper of your Latin name,

Antonia.

The evening descends softly over that great Wren Cathedral in the City.

I am calmed by your body chemistry;

I carry your odour into the twilight

I see the moon beams and I hold your gloves next to my table napkin at dinner

so I can steal some food for tomorrow and leave no fingerprints.

I am filled with such tremulous joi de vivre

May I dry your tears of ink and buy you a biro ball point and some artificial tears?

As my left ear falls onto your breast,

it reminds me of your three dimensionality and your solid geometry.

And your perfect symmetry.

I have waited too long saving up for a diamond.

In the hushed noontide, I wait for the last drones of the USA to pass over

or may be it’s just a herd of wasps.

My heated hands leap to put on your sweet blue shawl

I wait in the crystal moonlight for your sentimental piece of verse,

so that we may drive as one,leg to leg

We discourse spitefully on the spiritual nature of true love.

I have more than once tried to roll your stone away

but your tomb is impenetrable without angelic help.

Oh,Jesus, another nightmare.I am glad to meet you..

I could hardly wait..

And this is my girlfriend,Antonia.

My sweet Lord,

Really want to know you,but it takes so long,I know.

I’m in Heaven..

Here’s Nye Bevan..

And Lord Beveridge

	


	



			
				


			
				


			

			
Famous novels to re-read
		
	
	

		
 


 
 
 
  
 
  
  


Don Risotto 


Dead on the Nail


Far From the Shabby Cloud.


Oliver wished.


Anne of Green Fables


Pilgrims’ Coatless


Robinson’s views are?


Gulliver Unravels


Tom Moans


Do you miss/kiss  her?


Trysts with  Brandy



 The  Quorum


Lemma


Frank with Wine.


The Green Light.


The Bed on the Screen.


The Life of   Bath.


Where Angels Fear to Wed.


Not Anger,Abby.


In  The Middle Grease.


England’s Rabid


 


 


 


 


 

	


	



			
				


			

			
Pre-dead
		
	
	

		
I went to the doctor, he said I’d pre-flu.

I said “My dear doctor what shall I do?”

Next time I went, he said “It’s pre- shock.”

And then I had pre measles,pre mumps and pre-pox

I ran to the doctor,he said ” You’re pre-well”

I said “Are you sure it’s not just a pre-quel?”

Next time I turned up,he’d gone out for a walk

It’s hard for a doctor who wants to pre-talk.

I went to the optician, who said I’m pre-blind

I thanked him for being so intensely unkind.

I went back to the doctor,and these words I said

“I’m pre -blind, pre-deaf,pre-ill and pre-dead!







	


	



			
				


			

			
Birth control
		
	
	

		
All I know is that diaphrams are a form of birth control.

I am puzzled by that because we all have diaphragms, yet some of us have no control of any kind.

If your diaphragm doesn’t move you can’t breathe so you can’t procreate.

No,you’d be dead!

A very strange form of birth control.

Maybe you can just faint and then your husband can have his way with you.

But would you want sex with someone unconscious?

It’s another case of a-symmetry.. a man can have relations with a faint woman but if the man faints that’s the end of it.I suspect!

How disappointing.

I suppose you  might use a carrot instead.

Well,it would be a form of birth control.

And girth control.

How come?

Sex is exercise,isn’t it?

Being alive is exercise!

Keep moving in any way you can,.however irregular.

Regular is better

But anything goes today except death.


 


 

	


	



			
				


			

			
Emile takes Stan to the vet
		
	
	

		
 


    

  • 

    

    

    IMG_0012
    
Stan realized it was time for Emile to have his annual flu jab.He stopped polishing the back  windows and picked up the phone.
    

    Hello,it’s Stan here.Can I make an appointment for Emile?
    
Yes, come today if Emile has had a bath
    
Are you joking?
    
Yes,the receptionist responded cheerfully.
    
Actually he did have a bath and now can swim breaststroke! Stan faltered.
    
How amazing,she said sweetly.
    
Stan got out Emile’s travelling basket.He put some copies of The Independent inside
    
in case Emile was bored..
    
Here,Emile,I’m taking you for a ride in the car.kindly step into your basket,you dear creature.
    
Can’t I sit by you and wear a seat belt?
    
I fear it’s illegal as yet.
    
OK,grand-dad,Emile answered jauntily.He climbed into the basket and sat up staring out boldly with his great amber eyes.
    
The doorbell rang.
    
Hello,Annie,Would you like to come to the vet’s with us?
    
Annie looked down at her violet velvet track suit and purple trainers with real gold 9 carat laces.
    
Yes,I’ll sit in the back with Emile, she muttered
    
After ten minutes they arrived  at the vet’s and parked the car under an elm tree.Stan carried the basket steadily not wanting the poor cat to fall in an undignified manner.
    

    Annie looked at her green nails.
    
Do you like my nail varnish,Stan?
    
To be honest,I prefer shell pink,he said softly.
    
Why is that,darling?
    
It is more feminine! Stan informed her laddishly
    
Feminine!But you can see I’m feminine!
    
I’d  like you to be even more feminine,he chuckled
    
Oh,yes ,agreed Emile,So do I.
    
You men,she cried sweetly,never satisfied.
    
I wouldn’t say that,my America,my Newfoundland!
    
What’s up? Swallowed the dictionary.
    
It’s a poem,actually.And it’s what Ted Hughes called Sylvia Plath,
    
You’ve been reading again.It’s bad for you.
    
Don’t you like to be my new found land?Stan enquired jocosely
    
A bit late to ask now,she murmured seductively.
    
Next moment they were in the empty waiting room.Then,ala. a man came in with a big black dog.Emile stared fiercely and the dog whimpered and lay down on the floor.
    
The vet came out and asked Stan to bring Emile in.Emile gave a yell at the dog before Stan shut the door.So,said the beautiful young vet,how is pussy today.
    
Emile remained silent.
    

    He’s fine,just needs his flu jab.muttered Stan.
    
Come now,Emile come out of there.But Emile was clinging to his basket with  his sharp claws.
    
Are you afraid Emile?He asked kindly
    
No,I’m not afraid,I’m just acting how vets expect cats to act.
    
So Emile speaks English?
    
He knows French too.
    
Je t’aime Emile.
    
Bedankt,madame.
    
Stop showing off and get out of there,she doesn’t speak Dutch.
    
Mein mutter wast immer krank,cried Emile.
    
Get out now!
    
Emile came out slowly and stood by this good lady.
    

    She looks a bit like Annie, he whispered.
    
The vet took out a small needle and swiftly injected Emile.
    
What a good boy,she sang,would you like a jelly baby?
    
A jelly baby!Cats don’t eat jelly babies! Emile said proudly
    
Well, have a go! the vet replied
    
Emile stalked back to his basket,put on some glasses and began to read the editorial in The Independent.
    
Stan was hoping to make a suggestive remark to the vet,but Annie came in.
    
Hurry up,there’s a thunderstorm coming.Her nails were now pink.
    
Did you change your nail varnish? he asked her.
    
No,the green was artificial nails!I took them off.
    
Can I have some claw varnish.demanded Emile
    
What color?
    
I fancy teal,Emile miaowed.
    
Teal!How ludicrous!
    
What about red?
    
Too pretentious.
    
I don’t think I’ll bother then,the cat said languidly
    
We men don’t have to bother about such things.
    
Well,you are lucky said Annie.
    
I hate makeup and nail varnish,blow dries and manicures but I don’t feel feminine without it.
    
You feel very feminine to me said Stan,running his hand softly along her forearm
    
and patting her behind!
    
Stan!Not here in the road!
    
Why not?enquired Emile.It looks ideal to me if you go behind those bushes.
    
Annie jumped into the car and drove away leaving Stan to carry Emile to the bus stop for a tedious journey home.Then she reappeared,opened the door and said,come on now
    
let’s all go home.I’m sorry I drove away.I’m feeling a bit blue today.
    
They got in and arrived safely home where Stan brewed a big pot of tea and let Annie sit on the sofa with her feet on a  cushion.He rubbed her head gently.Lovely,she purred.
    
I like having my head stroked.
    

    

    So do I,said Emile loudly but alas they were too busy to hear or care.So Emile fell asleep and dreamed he was only a character in a story written by a character on East Enders.
    

    

    

    

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Mary’s clothes and songs
		
	
	

		
5356006_967ca7cd14_m


http://youtu.be/IEVow6kr5nI





















Just before Stan’s funeral a heatwave began.Mary realised her outfit, which her sister had  kindly chosen was too heavy for summertime.

She called into a small department store full of delightful garments.Unfortunately most were more suitable for a nightclub than a chapel.A black dress caught her eye.It had a somewhat low neckline which was decorated with a deep gold band.

Mary decided it was more suitable for Queen Cleopatra than a British woman.After a few minutes she found a lovely thin black jacket and a long drapey skirt.She rewarded herself with a large cup of coffee and observed the scene around.

Many of the women were wearing the dresses Mary had thought were for dancing and nightclubs while the rest wore jeans with T shirts saying:

No Size Fashion

or

Free women now!


Stop staring!


Most of the women were rather plump so their busts stuck out with the words going up and down some invisible contour lines across the small mountain range their bosoms resembled.No wonder when the counter in the cafe was stacked with almond and chocolate croissants.Definitely an occassion of sin and for sin.

The next morning Mary showed her new outfit to Annie who had called to help her.

You can’t wear that,Annie screeched musically .The skirt is blue!

Well if it is it is dark blue,Mary cried.It looked black in the shop to me.

You will have to go back and change it.And you must buy some makeup too..

What,for a funeral?

Yes,said Annie who was wearing pink and purple eyeshadow from Pax Wacter combined with sun protective foundation by Minxette in deep beige.Her lashes were dyed purple and her brows had been groomed in a way which gave the impression she was constantly in a state of severe surprise or shock.Her thick juicy lips were painted a lurid orange from Revlon of Timbuctoo and Shanghai which meant that any man who kissed her would never be able to conceal their sin from their wives or partners.How hard life can be at times.Or even all the time for some of us.

You must dress entirely in black and it will make you look pale but don’t worry you can have some of my makeup


Will the colour suit me,asked Mary plaintively.


I think you can wear any colour now your hair has gone that horrible shade of pale.

You are a bit rude,Mary said but I  can take the hint.


http://youtu.be/Mb3iPP-tHdA

After Annie left Mary phoned an old friend of hers and asked him what he thought of her clothes problem.

Black and blue will look very good,he told her.As long as it’s dignified and dark the colour is immaterial.

That’s nice,Mary thought,as she hated shopping and was unsure how much income she would have as a widow




5356187_b63a55d438_s.jpg

Being practical a dark blue skirt is something a woman can wear any time whereas black is not so good in the daytime unless you are a business woman.

Mind you,after you visit any town centre in Britain you will see sights of women in strange and tight clothing that will both amuse and appall you though most of us are used to it now,I expect.

My goodness, Mary said to herself,what hard work it is losing a husband.I should have hired a boat and thrown him into the sea or even buried him in the back garden.That would have been better than all this kerfuffle.So she decided to turn her mind to higher things.




5346929_e6134c3279_m







I must admit to a confusion of the sublime and the ridiculous here but that is how it has been lately,including an ancient hymn being labelled as sexist.













	


	



			
				


			

			
He swoons into her tarts
		
	
	

		






When my husband has been ill,he longs for a tart…


Well,you could start charging him!


Can you plug men in like you do with your mobile ?


I wonder if that’s why they have two ears?


What,does the charger go in their ear?


Well,they don’t use them to listen to us women.


I shall have to ask someone.


No,just look on the Internet…

I did look and the good news is,It’s free nowadays.


What’s the bad news?


It’s all porn


Did it affect you?


No,I’d rather read a book..


What sort of book?


The ones where she swoons into his arms


~and he swoons into her charms.


You read those books too?


I write them!


You never said.


No I write under a nom de plum


Plume!


Plum,plume,it’s all  a foreign language to me.


It’s French…


Like the tarts



	


	



			
				


			

			
Fumour
		
	
	

		
For non English speakers, the words,fumour and gloomour are inventions by me so don’t use them in essays etc.


 
 
 
  
 
  
  


 


 


 


Is it easy to write limericks and humour


To rescue folk stuck in their gloomour?


Well,why rescue at all?


Let them all fall.


See if I care about fumour!


 


Fuming is when folk get too  cross


Hot and smokey,it’s their loss.


Noone can make us feel


Other than what is real.


Don’t ley their moods be the boss.

	


	



			
				


			

			
A gambit is the opening move.
		
	
	

		
A gambit is the opening move.


A manoeuvre the player can choose.


She seeks a quick lead;


A game at full speed.


What  shame if she thereafter should  lose.


 


I am innocent of tricks such as these.


I play games in order to please.


To  enjoy some fun,


No matter who’s won.


Then at leisure to relax at our ease.


 


In my ambit I find tricky folk


Whose guns are over-eager to smoke.


So I  am turning gay


In order to say,


I love you ,without being provoked.


 


Who understands a woman like me?


Is my mind a disorder to flee?


I may be  brilliant at times


But who chooses my rhymes?


I am who I am,let it be.


 


 


 


 

	


	



			
				


			

			
New proverbs
		
	
	

		
5586926_f1024


    

  • 

    “Two gangs don’t have to fight.”
    

    “Two tongues don’t add appetite”
    • 

  • 

  • 

    “The lens is mightier than the word .”
    

    “The end is slighter than  a bird”
    • 

  • 

    “When in foam, do as the foaming do.”
    

    • 

  • 

     “When you rhyme,do as the   poets do”
    

    • 

  • 

    “The leaky seal   lets liquid seep.”
    

    • 

  • “The pesky  steal the calm of  our sleep”
    • 

  • 

    “When the  mowing gets tough, the tough  take the aftermath.”
    

    • 

  • 

    “When knowing is tough,the tough still look”
    

    • 

  • 

    “No pen is in  wry hands “
    

    “So when is it in my hands?
    • 

  • “No pen is a dry one”
    • 

  • 



 

	


	



			
				


			

			
Windows and the danger of flattening tigers
		
	
	

		
Windows  open to let  in fresh air…but also you can fall out of them.Every positive thing has an opposite…





See what happens when we fall out.. not good is it?

You can literally fall out if you do the foolish thing,trying to clean the outside from inside.Some people sit on the windowsill with only their legs inside and attempt to wash the windows…then all of a sudden they lose their balance and end up in a rose bush in the garden if they are lucky.It may be they end up on a passing dog and that is called dog-slaughter here in the UK.So if you must fall out try to fall onto a dead cat.Well,what other choice is there?I rest my case on a dead tiger’s  head.Why is it here?I shall tell you another day.. but it was not I who shot it.No,I strangled it in a dream and my  life changed forever.If it’s any consolation, it was very old



	


	



			
				


			

			
I thought I was a virgin.
		
	
	

		


8198889_f520






According to Freudian theory,writing with a fountain pen is the equivalent of copulation.Damn it.I thought I was a virgin when I got married.That Freud.. who does he think he is?  God……Anyway as we get older we can enjoy this simple outlet without dressing up  making up or on-line dating.And you don’t need protection,contraception or metal detection.Lose it the inky way.Buy a pen today.I am not sure if fibre tip pens are the same!Or ballpoints.I can see a fountain pen is the most similar and so I can believe children should not learn to write any more.Typing is alright,I think.





	


	



			
				


			

			
Rhymes feed our sounds
		
	
	

		
4666723qq_f520


    

  • Frightened by wrath? Read ” 1000 ways to cope with fear of  rage.”
    • 

  • Share out one’s  kitsch in a Will.That will show ’em
    • 

  • Call  the chair,it’s love, war or destroy.
    • 

  • All is well that blends well
    • 

  • Every crowd   has me whining,leave this mall now or forever  bear my grief.
    • 

  • The writing on the wall is due to poverty;can we have your   paper?
    • 

  • Rhymes  feed  our sounds and time steals our  wombs
    • 

  • Chaste by good taste,she was a sinner at heart but nobody reached her acme of fantasied  perfect love.
    • 


	


	



			
				


			

			
Love You Always
		
	
	

		
I remember using a

poem generator before but this is very facile


 


11919118_607097106096838_3210654824898676568_n


In summertime, our love is peaceful,


like murmuring  daisies floating in the  soft breeze.


above our faces,tickling us in playful gestures


In wintertime, our love is warmer—


it walks from bath to bed each night


wrapped and rosy


after a day in heavy,hampering clothes


If skies are blue, our love is  out of doors


— two people travelling in the sun to an unknown place,


unafraid and  filled with joyful hope


If thunder rolls


our love is moody,


a refuge from the skulking rain and hail.


The lightning flirts across  our faces.


Reminding of darkness and fear


Lear


Faustus


When spring flowers bloom,


snowdrops unrolled


bluebells dangling by the stream


and the celandine


our love is soft,


like quiet curved petals on the crocus.

When the  autumn leaves down fall,


our love is deeper and we sink


into their soft bed


Our eyes are shining bright


like a harvest sheath of corn.


At Christmas,where ‘ll we be?


Even love is not all knowing


This is not a poem


Where are humans going?


This is never any poem


And nobody wrote it.


And nobody ever knows it.

	


	



			
				


			

			
ON THE MERRY GO ROUND
		
	
	

		


























I rode on that horse on the Merry- Go- Round at the New Year Fair,


And every time I came around,Dad were standing there.


The horses they  went up and down,as it whirled around.


To me ,so small, they seemed so high,up above the ground.


You knew I loved those magic horses  more than owt at all,


Dad,you let me ride one,though Mam thought I were too small!


I shall never  forget the happiness in my heart imbued;


Yet  more than I loved those horses, Dad,I loved you.


I wish I were a child again and you were with us today


I think we’d recognize your voice,and  listen to what you’d say.


Why did God snatch you up ,it seemed to be so wrong.?


But thank you,Dad, for the Merry- Go- Round,and thank you for the songs.


I think that life’s like a Merry -Go- round that we are turning on.


And every time it whirls around.someone else has gone.


We don’t know how long we’ll ride our horses, so merry,and  so gay.


So enjoy the Revolution now,and  say what you  need to say.











	


	



			
				


			

			
Stan goes for therapy
		
	
	

		






Cat after therapy










Passion flowers
















Stan is feeling low and sad.


His good wife Mary has gone mad.


Stan is feeling Guilt and Fear


He knows now that it’s wrong to leer.


Stan has been a naughty boy.


He let a mistress with him toy.


But Mary found his mobile phone


When she was at home all alone.


His mistress lived next door to him


Which made it convenient to sin.


While Mary worked hard teaching maths


The lovers lingered in the bath.


He was meant to do the chores.


Chopping wood and painting doors.


He had to bake the cakes and bread.


So that the household would be fed.


But Stan into temptation fell,


As did his neighbour Anne as well.


They enjoyed kisses and hugs,


And lying down in woolly rugs.


Oh  Mary, she was most appalled.


She screamed and yelled and cried and bawled.


So Stan has gone for therapy.


What sort of changes will he see?


He lies down on a long brown couch.


Behind which the therapist crouched.


He says to Stan,”now let it rip.


I want your mouth to be unzipped.”


Was your mother kind to you?


Did she train you on the loo?


Did she wash your mouth with soap?


Was she prone to sulk and mope?


Stan thought this man verbose.


So he kept his own lips close.


When he got the bill to pay.


He told the therapist, “No way”


“You have been the one to talk.”


He glared like a crusading hawk.


“You should pay me,not I pay you!”


What was his therapist going to do!


“I’m glad you’ve managed to speak out.


Your sanity is not in doubt.


I’ll tear the bill up for this week.


And next time I want you to speak.”


So Stan unleashed his every thought


Just as the Freudians once  taught.


I don’t know how he feels inside.


But language is a useful guide.


And as he sees his therapist,


His mistress is not greatly missed.


He  wanted more attention,


So now his bad ways are all gone!


He got a part time job as well.


So he could pay his therapy bill.


Mary is still teaching maths.


And now it’s she with whom he baths!

























	


	



			
				


			

			
A new wheeze for  wives.Go on shriek.
		
	
	

		




I say necessity is the mother of extensions




My nerves unreeled like a film




As curvaceous as a rat-run on a hot thin roof




As nervous as a long veiled bat in a room full of flocking hairs




Oh,never shut off until tomorrow what you can do dismayed




 A new wheeze for  wives.Go on shriek.




A hollow history troubles one




Nice guys finish passed




 A fright by day, she looked  sufficient in the night




Babies can nip and suck if smiling




Men cannot flock like stoats.Queue to speak.




No accountants s have taste




No  cranium is entirely hollow




Oh,woe.oy vey,let’s go.




No gold’s’ jarred me




No if’s ,no off’s. no butts,no verbs.Just words.





	


	



			
				


			

			
I knitted Mobius strips whilst intertwined.
		
	
	

		
This poem is unsure whether it is humorous or very serious




He loved my  beauty, not my wandering mind.


In fact ,he preferred me to be almost mute


I knitted Mobius strips whilst intertwined.


And listened to his voice as to a flute.




I soon grew tired of hearing his   crazed  views


I found a man who liked to hear me speak.


Until I mentioned I owned  ten green shoes.


Bottles yes,but shoes made me a freak






Then I found a man who never spoke.


He listened with a kind,inviting smile.


I would have liked to test him with a joke.


But feared I might then harm his utter guile.




Formidable the quest to  match one’s soul.


I need a body too to make me whole.







	


	



			
				


			

			
And don’t bark
		
	
	

		
 






Flock onto the   wooden ark and don’t bark


Was there a shark in the ark?





Block the clover off the lawns… is it bad luck? Oh,f…




Clock your flocks off now with your smartphone




I nicked a way  up the chimney




Rockout or rock in




I knockout slow




I know it like the  stock of my land




Show me the tropes




I know that bore in the mirror




 I know that’s flip but it’s a quip




Go  to  where your feet  stand and stay there.




Know which side your head is shuttered on when you sleep




 He knows it cheaper and terse than the Bible




 A  sadly.knuckled frown groaned its way across his  worn out visage




A fickle sandwich teased her daily.Some days it was buttered………




A wonder  the blunder didn’t  sunder




A Dvorak moment danced to the music of rhyme.


Reader I married him






	


	



			
				


			
				


			

			
What do you think of Nothing?
		
	
	

		




I gave  full Marx to all  in the philosophy exam.


Then as I was Lenin on the window it opened


and I performed three spiralling French style Revolutions


in front of the entire campus before landing on the lawn.


A miracle…I suffered no injuries though my copy of Kierkegaard


was Trembling in my pocket.


If only Kafka had been there to watch..….


unless he was the black beetle I fell on?


I hope not as he has suffered so much already.


It made Sartre famous.. and look at his women.


Nothing in a skirt ever escaped HIM.


It’s strange to think Simone de Beauvoir never wore jeans


… or indeed trousers of any type.And tights?


Do clothes affect one’s self image?


No doubt Lacan would know all about mirrors


…..if he cared to speak more plainly than before…..


but Lewis Carroll knew more and mewed more


…he loved cats.He was my Mioaw and how!


But would the cat come back if a man called for it?


I’m sure they were tried by the Inquisition…


They were familiar with witches.


It’s a Looking Glass life here.


So it’s the full Montaigne diaries for you


and ten glasses of Spanish brandy for me.


Full Quarks or half sizes sold here cheap


.Apply within .No plastic or quantum cards accepted.


Please do not bask in the sunshine


as a revolution is imminent.


I saw Trotsky on the bus


I myself never read Hegel as such,


being very backward in German


but I did know about the thesis and antithesis.


What would the Euripidean Union have thought of that


or of the Gorgons being revealed again ?


It’s enough to turn us all to stone at once….


it’s the eyes,you see.


Well,I can’t keep Lenin on this Window any longer.


Bring down the curtain as fast as you can


or he will climb out and it will all begin once more


……remember I had the last waltz with you,babe.


I’ll never forget the Siege  when you laid   waste my heart.






I

	


	



			
				


			

			
Rhyme fun
		
	
	

		
Quantal rhymes with fundamental;


Mental rhymes with  the word central;


Central rhymes with Oriental;


Orientals  eat  green lentils.


 


This is not a course in logic.


Logic  rhymes with hypnagogic.


Magic oddly rhymes with tragic.


And it nearly rhymes with budget


 


 


Dodge it,  fudge it,fidget,lodge it,


Nudge it,bridge it.edge it,pledge it,


Wedge it,allege it,midget,grudge it.


Splodge it splurge it, whinge it,hedge it.


 

	


	



			
				


			

			
Stan meets another woman
		
	
	

		






CatsStan had just got back to his lovely  home after a ride on his  mountain bike. Emile had travelled in his special cat seat/basket just in front of Stan as he liked to see the road less traveled should it appear..and he liked purr to encourage Stan to ride further.WhenStan got home to his luxuriously detached yet bijou dwelling he went to the wonderful disappointing cloakroom to wash his paws before putting the kettle on for some tea.

Ah,how peaceful it is here,he thought…,how nice Mary is still at work.

Suddenly, and alarmingly, the door bell rang.There,on the flower bedecked porch,stood a large, beautiful curly haired woman holding Emile in her pretty freckled arms

I believe this is your cat,she said boldly.So he tells me.Why, he even knows the address.

Well,if he’s anyone’s ,he’s mine,Stan admitted uneasily.What has he done now?

Did you not notice he jumped out of his basket?she asked enquiringly.

Well,no,Stan answered furtively..I was getting a bit tired and keen to get home…I forgot my water,

Well,I hope you won’t let him do it again,he could end up absconding,

By the way,I’m called Yvette.

Are you Yvette Cooper,the MP,he enquired wildly.

No, she said,I’m Yvette Hooper,the swan lover.

Do come in for a cup of tea,he said caringly.

I don’t mind if I do,she said,then I can be sure your cat is alright.

Tell me,Stan said,Do you live with a swan?

No,she said,though I do have an old Swan saucepan.

A saucepan is not much company,Stan responded.

Well,at least it never shouts at me!Yvette said quickly.

Have you suffered verbal abuse? Stan said in a kind and supportive voice.

I have, yes.We had a mutual agreement that I could be handcuffed and verbally amused for 3 hours a week.you see we’d read this book,”Fifty shades of grey.”It’s all about human bondageBut my boyfriend thought it was verbal abuse I wanted..As I was upside down I couldn’t tell him of his error.After that things were never the same.

Why did you have the handcuffs?asked Stan calmly.

We were given them for Xmas,she whispered.Also a whip and some rubber gloves.Why the rubber gloves?For washing up of course!

But after being whipped would you feel like washing up?

I don’t know.We split up before we even tried the whip… to be honest,I didn’t want to use it.

Alright, my dear.I understand it all.

Here you are.. drink a nice cup of tea and try these biscuits I made myself they are almond biscuits from my Penguin Jewish cookery book.

Mmmm,delicious,she cried.Are you Jewish,Stan?

No,but why should they have all the best recipes?

A good point… maybe because they had almost the first alphabet so began to write them down before anyone else could.

Not to mention they invented monogamy,a great religion,Freud,Wittgenstein,Einstein,rhinestone

.Give them an accolade. I mean,Jesus Christ!What more do they have to do to be rewarded?

Ascend into heaven?

Make more cheesecakes?

I wonder,said Stan pondering slowly over this issue.


The back door opened and in ran Annie,Stan’s mistress.

She was dressed in soft teal with toning turquoise trainers and she wore a light beige foundation with bright coral lipstick making a subtle contrast to her peachy skin… all by Lam-com of China.


Oh,Anne,have some tea.This is Yvette,she very kindly rescued Emile after he jumped off my bike.

Don’t tell me he can ride a bike now , Anne screamed,showing off a good set of teeth and a long red tongue.

No,I was riding it.Stan told her sensibly.Calm down.

Hello Yvette,Anne said,where do you live?

I live on the top road by the wood.Yvette answered politely, her auburn hair standing up in a mass off curls as she spoke,showing off to good effect her light orange lipstick and burnt sienna eye shadow…in fact it was color from her art materials..

Have you been there long?Anne enquired politely and warmly.

No,only a few weeks..we don’t know anyone..

So you are married?

Yes,my  new husband is in the Police Service… he cleans policemen for special occasions.

I didn’t know anyone did that.Can’t they clean themselves?A self cleaning policeman…or how about putting coat of Teflon on them so they can be wiped with a wet cloth?

It’s up to him,said Yvette.I am a lecturer at Pond’s End Polytechnic.I teach philosophy..

In a poly?

Yes,I have a D.Phil from Oxgridge in the philosophy of science with particular reference to Dirac’s remarks on Wittgenstein.

Do they study such remarks in a poly?

All the students do Philosophy of Science…it’s compulsory.

Stan said,I wish they all did Peace Studies too…

I know,said Yvette kindly..If only we could bring peace but we are descended from the most aggressive primates…why many of them were sado-masochists.Well some were sadists and the rest were masochists I gather.The ones who weren’t died out as they never mated..

Well,I’m not a sadist,said Stan,or at least only to myself!

Do you beat yourself up,the ladies asked.

Just in my mind,he answered judiciously.


So do I thought Yvette.

Let’s have some more tea,called Anne from the hall,I’ll make it.


tea

Anne is my mistress,Stan boasted humbly……

There was little point trying to seduce Yvette now Anne had met her and vice versa.

Yvette was intrigued.That is rare ,for such an old man to have a mistress.

Is a wife not sufficient for you?

A wife is necessary but not sufficient,Stan teased her.

Well,my husband has no mistress, she said unknowingly,

but I have several boyfriends.

How do you get the time?

I have a rota,she chuckled happily.

You seem an intriguing lady.May I have your email address,mobile number and your landline?

Your height and weight too..clothes size and shoes too.What colour is  your nightgown?I beg your pardon.I have got rude with age!

Be quiet ,you little sweetheart.It’s

yvette999@hotmail.com

or diracisme@qmail.com

My phone number is Oh,oh,6666666666666.7777777777777777………………..

That’s irrational,he informed her knowingly.

Have you got an i Pad,she then asked boldly.

No,I’ve not even got a Kindle..do you recommend them.Maybe you could come to ComputersRus with me on Saturday.

No, she said,I’m Jewish.

Are Jews not permitted to visit Computer shops.Some religious edict,is it? he said inquisitively.

It’s the Sabbath,you dimwit,she responded.We don’t shop on the Sabbath but don’t worry I’ll come on Monday with you..you are a charming man.I need as many as I can get.

Why are you deficient in some way?Stan whispered.

No,I’m very proficient and mildly conceited,she admitted modestly.

And I like a good kisser.Are you a good kisser?Can you make out?That’s American for kissing.

Well,maybe you could give me a test,he said manfully,

and if need be you can give me some lessons followed by a total Examination to see if I satisfy you.

Just then Anne came in with fresh tea..

Emile mewed loudly.

What is it.Emile ? Stan asked.

I am jealous because we cats can’t kiss.

Well kissing is neither necessary nor sufficient in the art of love.Rolling about together in some soil is also very nice..

I hope you don’t expect your wife to roll about in soil,said Yvette

questioningly..

Well,I can ask her,Stan said,but her main interest is topology and knitting.She is often very cold in bed.

Can’t you warm her into life;Or buy an electric blanket?

No,she’s hopeless because of a type of Asperger’s syndrome but I love her anyway.

Have you tried a new technique like whipping each other or tying yourself to the bedposts.You can buy handcuffs now in Boots,I hear.

Why some doctors prescribe them on the NHS nowadays

I thought Love was enough, Stan answered

It seems in the UK people are into whips and handcuffs…

Well,count me out,said Stan,I’m more into a careful yet tender study of the skin from the toes right up to to head,followed by gazing into her eyes for ten minutes.

Why ten minutes?asked Yvette.

I can’t wait any longer

Well,you’ll have to practise..she said coyly.

I can practise with him,said Anne virtuously.

Yes,the more the better…he’s getting older so he can’t wait.

He needs satisfaction and love as soon as possible.

The door bell rang,It was handsome Dave the paramedic.

Hi,he said,I was worried as you’ve not called 999 today.I brought a leash and some whips.

I’m Yvette,the woman said.

I’m bisexual,he told her.

That’s a strange name.

Never mind that,give me your email address and phone number

It’s ywoman@love4all.com,she said or 09964321.3333333333333333333…..

If you’d like a non rational phone number email me at

hotcats@hell.com


photo1049 4


Read more freely in the Daily Slur tomorrow….on sale everywhere and making life hell as fast as they can