Friday, 12 December 2025

Christmas 2025: Punch in the Yulebowl, George up yer flagpole.


'Well then, Piglet.'
'Well then, Pooh.'
'Jubilate...'
'Time to parte.'
'Doesn't rhyme.'
'Not a crime.'
'Let it pass...'
'Charge your glass.'
'Clear your throat.'
'Here's the note.'
'So off we go.'
'So da capo.'
'Merry merry.'
'Happy jolly.'
'Tom and Jerry.'
'Buddy Holly.'
'Jolly happy.'
'Outsize nappy.'
'Roaring fire.'
'Midnight choir.'
'Herod duped! Boy survived!'
'Starmer, K, Pee Forty-Fived?'
'Chestnuts a-hotting.'
'Ms Reeves a-totting.'
'Do you mean tottering?'
'Certainly nottering.'
'Houses all tinsely'd.'
'Andy un-Princely'd.'
'Mince pies to dish up.'
'More scandals, Bishop?'
'New Archgaffer is Dame Mullally.'
'Hope their capers don't drive her dullally.'
'Jenrick and Nigey-boy - '
'Wowing the galleroy.'
'Punch in the Yulebowl.'
'George up yer flagpole.'
'Wise Men a-gazing.'
'Half the world blazing.'
'But ne'er mind the chill.'
'Our boots we shall fill.'
'Wine in the cellar.'
'Kenneth McKellar.'
'He's gone to his Maker - '
'Or, like Lucan, faker.'
'Now mirth be o'erflowing - '
'Now bunions be glowing.'
'Though frost is a-glistening - '
'Toffs are a-pissen-'
'Mind your manners.'
'Fly your banners.'
'Happy merry.'
'Tram 'n' ferry.'
'Sleighbells ringing.'
'Bob 'n' Binging.'
'Sprouts 'n' mash.'
'UK crash.'
'Lowly manger.'
'Queens Park Ranger.'
'Heaping snow.'
'Strapped for dough.'
'New Year Joys.'
'Feel the Noize!'
'Bette Davis.'
'Dot 'n' Mavis.'
'Auld Lang Syne.'
'Dogger, Tyne.'
'They call us screwy.'
'Pinch their Drambuie.'
'Fine plan - '
'Good cheer - '
'To everybody.'
'Crazee times!'
'EEET'S HEEER!'
'Ta, Noddy!'



Thursday, 27 November 2025

I'll push the pram, You drag the cot....

'So, Pooh…are you feeling the Christmas spirit?'
'Well, yes and no.'
'Oh…right.'
'It's like Mr Lennon sings, Piglet:
Santa's a concept
Bah which we measure ahhh
Pay-ay-ay-ay-ain.'
'I think it's God that he - '
'Ah'll sing it again.'
'Please don't.'
'Anyway, that being so, I've decided to meet Christmas with something like equanimity.'
'How like?'
'A bespoke hairbrush.'
'Oh…right.'
'And to that end, I've resumed minefieldness.'
'You mean mindful - '
'Makes you think good and proper, Piglet. Makes you ponder the imponderosables.'
'Well, I suppose - '
'Consider the humble leaf, Piglet. Can it choose which wind might waft it hither and yin and yang?'
'Is that what you're meant to - ?'
'Nor yet the modest droplet. Does it have a say in which ocean it must perforce nestle?'
'I think if you're perforced - '
'Nor yet yet the fleeting smile. Is it at all canvassed as to the photogenicity of the mush on which it alights?'
'You're not going to start on with how many roads must a man walk down before - '
'For what is a road?
What has it got?
If not itself
Then it has not…
I'll push the pram,
You drag the cot,
This Floyd is Pink,
That Hoople's Mott,
The Co-op's dead,
Waitrose has fled -
We'll shop at Safeway!'
'I think that's Morrisons now.'
'Oh, for pity's sake, Piglet, why on earth would a Belfast-born songster with a penchant for fedoras, Celtic-inflected soul and a distinct lack of gruntlement be bothering with a supermarket?'
'Diversifying his portfolio?'
'What, in full view?'


Saturday, 15 November 2025

By the Rivers of Babycham

 

'Nearly done, Piglet.'

'Sorry, Pooh, what's this now?'

'My contribution to Kanga's Advent Singalong.'

'Oh…right.'

'No doubt you're eager - '

'Not if you're - '

'Not at all, my porcine camarade.'

'Oh…right.'

'This year I've opted for a variation on 'Lech Wałęsa's Lass Looked Out.'

'I think it's 'Good' - '

'Even before you've heard it?  A ringing endorsement and no mistake.  I'll remember you in my prayers.'

'I thought you were agnostic.'

'No, Piglet, she was the blonde one in Abba.  Now, here goes:

Hither, Page, and stand by me
Bring the drink and nosh-o,
You are but a noxious oik,
I'm a toothsome posh-o,
Let us find some random pez,
Fete him one night only,
Salve our conscience for the year,
Leave him lost and loneleeeee.

Well?  Doesn't it capture the essence of the nub of the crux?'

'Er…'

'Oh, come on, Piglet, it's right up there with the best celebratory hums - O Weep All Ye Fateful, O Little Town of Bethnal Green, By the Rivers of Babycham - the lot!'

'I don't think By the Riv - '

'No, well, you wouldn't.  Anyway, what are you contributing?'

'I might try 4'33" by that Mr Cage.'

'Let's hear it, then.'

'It's my extended variation.'

'How extended?'

'To the end of this walk.'


 

Wednesday, 11 December 2024

Happy Jolly Buddy Holly

 

'Well then, Piglet.'

'Well then, Pooh.'

'Jubilate...'

'Time to parte.'

'Doesn't rhyme.'

'Not a crime.'

'Let it pass...'

'Charge your glass.'

'Clear your throat.'

'Here's the note.'

'So off we go.'

'So da capo.'

'Merry merry.'

'Happy jolly.'

'Tom and Jerry.'

'Buddy Holly.'

'Jolly happy.'

'Outsize nappy.'

'Roaring fire.'

'Midnight choir.'

'Herod bemoaning.'

'Starmer milestoning.'

'Chestnuts a-hotting.'

'Ms Reeves a-totting.'

'Do you mean tottering?'

'Certainly nottering.'

'Rum punch for solace.'

'Here's yer bike, Wallace.'

'Mince pies to dish up.'

'More scandal, Bishop?'

'Minstrels a-busking.'

'Monsters a-Musking.'

'Wise Men a-gazing.'

'Half the world blazing.'

'But ne'er mind the chill.'

'Our boots we shall fill.'

'Wine in the cellar.'

'Kenneth McKellar.'

'He's gone to his Maker - '

'Or, like Lucan, faker.'

'Now mirth be o'erflowing - '

'Now bunions be glowing.'

'Though frost is a-glistening - '

'Toffs are a-pissen-'

'Mind your manners.'

'Fly your banners.'

'Happy merry.'

'Tram 'n' ferry.'

'Sleighbells ringing.'

'Bob 'n' Binging.'

'Sprouts 'n' mash.'

'UK crash.'

'Lowly manger.'

'Queens Park Ranger.'

'Heaping snow.'

'Strapped for dough.'

'New Year Joys.'

'Feel the Noize!'

'Bette Davis.'

'Dot 'n' Mavis.'

'Auld Lang Syne.'

'Dogger, Tyne.'

'They call us screwy.'

'Pinch their Drambuie.'

'Fine plan - '

'Good cheer - '

'To everybody.'

'Crazee times!'

'Behold!'

'Our Noddy!'

 


 



Thursday, 28 November 2024

Lonely goats

 

'Short and grey and old and haggard
The doc for tonsillitis goes walking
And when he passes
Each one he passes goes
Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.'
'To repeat, Pooh, it doesn't improve on further hearing.'
'Well I'm not singing the original. I mean, Ipanema...sounds like a fungal incursion among the under-twelves.'
'Three things. It doesn't. Ipanema is a romantic name. No-one's asking you to sing anything.'
'But Kanga's working on the Hundred-Acre Christmas Festival programme right now. I've got to offer something before it's too late.'
'How about a mime?'
'Ah, yes, like that Marcel Morsel. Actually, I could mime clues to a song and then sing it when someone guesses. Kill two berks with one stone.'
'I was thinking more of a stationary - '
'But which song? Back to square one, you see?'
'She's not looking for songs from every - '
'How about that one from The Sound of Music? Plenty of mime potential there.'
'Sorry, which - ?'
'Stood on a high hill, a lonely goat heard.'
'I think you'll find it's High on a hill was a lonely goatherd.'
'No no no, Piglet. The original syntax is all to pot. I've improved it, you see? Still a touch awkward, I admit, but - '
'But it's not goat heard. It's goatherd.'
'That's what I said, if somewhat more slowly and punctuatiliously than you.'
'It's goatherd.'
'Goat heard.'
'Goatherd. Someone who herds goats.'
'Piglet, verb forms are a closed book to you. I hear. You hear. He, she, it, this, that, mum, dad, Shakespeare, Hildegard of Bingen, Tommy Shelby, Nostradamson hears. I heard. You heard. He, she, it, this, that etcetera heard.'
'Pooh - '
'Not heards. How far do you think Mr Dave Edmunds would have got with "I Heards You Knockin'"?'
'Pooh, it's goatherd. All one word. Like a shepherd for goats.'
'Piglet, it's a be-horned, altitudinally insouciant quadruped on his tod. He heard - not heards, mark you - a yodel of rare invention and beguiling timbre.'
'It's the goatherd who's doing the yodel - '
'So:
Stood on a high hill
A lonely goat heard
"Lay, lady lay, 'cross my big brass bed".'
'That's actually Bob - '
'No, Piglet, it's actually Bill. As in Billy. As in goat. You really must expand your porcine frame of refulgence.'
'As you wish.'
'Not wishes, Piglet. Facts. You should dabble your trotters in 'em sometime. Whole new world for you.'
'Well, one fact is that it'll soon be that time again. So I wish you a Merry Christmas, Pooh, and a Happy New Year.'
'And to you, sir. And to all on Sunday.'
'And sundry, Pooh.'
'No no no, Piglet. He, she, it, this, that, mum, dad - '
'Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!'

 

Tuesday, 17 September 2024

Dynamic prattling...

 

'Well, Pooh...that spot of rain earlier but not a bad day.'
'I concur.'
'Concur? Oh...right...fair enough.'
'Fifty pence.'
'Sorry?'
'Two words, twenty-five pence each. Whenever you're ready.'
'What? You mean you want me to pay --?'
'Plus two pounds, twenty-five pence.  For what I just said.'
'Two --?'
'Five pounds. For what I just just said.'
'Pooh, what --?'
'Ten pounds. Fifteen pounds. Twenty pounds.'
'What are you on about?'
'The new normal, Piglet. Dynamic prattling. D'you know how much air costs these days?'
'It doesn't cost --'
'Well, well...a pony. That's twenty-five pounds. I'd advise settlement at your earliest convenience in re: yours of the fifth inst.'
'Pooh --'
'Otherwise you might find you have to take out a mortgage to facilitate a second mortgage to ensure the swift completion of item, one debt, item, the full, frank and feckless honouring thereof.'
'This is utter nonsense.'
'Surcharge for emotive lingo. You're now up to three ponies with a ton in sight. Luckily for you, this happens to be my Dandy Discount Day, so I'll chuck in a Clydesdale's fetlock for nothing.'
'Oh, this is all about that reunion.'
'It's about nothing of the sort. Though I did send them one of my hums a while back.'
'Did you now?'
'Dear oh dear, Piglet...three tons and the first glimpse of a monkey's fundament. Ah...the scent of five hundred crispy tofus. Do you have a financial advisor? No? Some Zurich gnome resting between bonanzas?'
'Now look, Pooh --'
'Very pleased with that hum, I was. "Don't Glance Back In Garstang." I thought they'd embrace it.'
'So...they didn't.'
'Congratulations, Piglet...you're up to a monkey and a mandrill and a moor's worth of Shetlands. No, sadly, they didn't. Liam wrote back and said it was a f&&^*))^%$% load of b*^%))?@@.'
'I see.'
'Mind you, Noel wrote that it had a pleasing mellifluousnessness.'
'That doesn't sound like --'
'It wasn't. "Only kidding," he added, "it's a dirty great pile of *&%%%$££**?/".'
'Right.'
'Well, Piglet, you're on a Gibraltar of monkeys. But look, as it's you, I'll settle for half a Whipsnade. And not to worry...my bailiffs are gloved and slippered. You won't know they're there.'
'You disappoint me.'
'That's what I intend to tell that pair when the tour's finished.'
'And presumably lob in a *&&%^^$$""££ for good measure.'
'What, and spend a pony? Do you think I'm a fiscal wonderwall?'
'Definitely.'
'Hmm...maybe.'

 

Monday, 29 July 2024

Clobbered by a clapper

 

'Arrant nonsense!'
'No it isn't, Pooh.'
'Never heard such foolery.'
'It's perfectly -- '
'"Ask not for whom the bell tolls -- it tolls for thee." Utter piffle.'
'It's actually "Send not to know for whom --"'
'I mean, if you don't ask, how will you know?'
'What it means, Pooh, is -- '
'Recipe for chaos, Piglet. I mean, there you are, mooching about, suddenly you see this cove swinging his heart out like that Quasimodusoprahwinfrey. Stroll on, you think, is that my bell? So you gather all your nearest and dearest around for the Big Tarrarabit, get yourself neatly pegged out -- '
'Pooh, if I could just -- '
'Then some spectraliferous voice says, Sorry mush, you weren't due till a week on Tuesday.'
'It doesn't mean a particular person's bell -- '
'Just think of all you could have done with that extra time. Split the antirrhinum. Circumnavigated the glebe.'
'Pooh -- '
'Created a sculpture to surpass Mike 'n' Angela's "David".'
'I really think you're -- '
''Stead of which you've got yourself off'd before your off was in the offing.'
'Pooh, what the poet is trying -- '
'Oh, poet is it? I should have known.'
'What he's trying -- '
'Can't they be stopped? You hear them declaiming in the street. Young children about, nervous clergymen.'
'He was a clergyman -- the one who wrote it.'
'Oh, right, not content with the poetry then. Sacerdotal moonlighting. So who was he?'
'John somebody.'
'Somebody? Couldn't run to a proper surname? Not surprised. Probably used up all his words giving some poor woman bardic earache -- "Shall I discount thee in a summer sale" and all that carry-on.'
'Pooh! It's not about pinning someone's name to their own personal bell. It means that we should all be mindful of our mortality. You hear the bell, you know it will toll for you someday.'
'But what harm would it do to be on the safe side? You might have a holiday lined up in Swanage. Bag packed, living-statue-repellent at the ready, then -- boom! -- clobbered by a clapper.'
'Pooh, the question will answer itself.'
'But you haven't had a chance to put it! I knew it was a mistake getting you "Omniscience for Dummies" last Christmas. It's gone to your -- '
'The line means simply this, Pooh. We all know what awaits. We all know that, if I may phrase it thusly, we shall "peal" off one by one.'
'With an "a".'
'The very same, Pooh.'
'How long have you had that one stored up?'
'About seven weeks.'