washing line

It is reported that one fifth of Frenchmen change their underwear twice a week … at most.

We thought we could a Frenchman tell,
Because of that strong garlic smell,
But now, it seems, we were quite wrong,
About the nature of that pong.

It’s origin, we are now told,
Is maybe not so well controlled,
And it’s now thought it might be due,
To something none of us quite knew.

For many Frenchmen do not care,
And, seemingly, they like to wear,
Their underwear for half a week,
By which time they most likely reek.

How true this is, I do not know,
To be sure one would have to go,
And smell the air around these hommes,
Detecting thus suspicious pongs!

Some might think this is an affront,
Or possibly some Brexit stunt,
But to correct there is a way –
Wear underpants for just a day!

A Frenchman’s wife might say, “Oh gosh!
Then I will have more clothes to wash.”
Yes, but you need not fear the worst,
The smell, Madame, will be dispersed.


Lollipop man

It is reported that the number of lollipop people is in decline.

It’s always been a general rule,
That when our children go to school,
A person will the traffic stop,
By holding up a lollipop.

A man or woman it can be,
Referred to hence as he or she;
They can be young or often old,
Provided they are fit to hold,
The stick with circle on the top –
That’s why it’s called a lollipop.

The children always like to see,
At nine o’clock and half past three,
This lolly person who will guide,
Them all across the other side.

A few kids who are rather bold,
Might ask if they the sign can hold,
But then the man’s obliged to say,
That health and safety comes in play,
And so they must, though it’s the pits,
Keep to themselves their little mitts.

And should they try the sign to lick,
It’s odds on that they will be sick.

But now there’s news we can’t ignore,
The lollipops might be no more,
As councils can’t afford, they say,
To find the cash they have to pay.

If that is right it is a shame,
For they have worked in wind and rain,
With just one goal as their intent –
Avoiding any accident.

So maybe parents should protest,
Because on this they know what’s best,
Then if the Council ups their pay,
The lollipops won’t melt away.

But if they don’t it will be sad,
And things could turn out very bad,
For sponsors might come in and say,
With advertising we will pay,
Then there might be a redesign,
Which looks more like a ninety-nine!



It is reported that I am finding writing a blog every day quite stressful and so from toda I plan to reduce the number to just one or two each week.

This writing blogs, one new each day,
And which are free, you never pay,
Is getting stressful every time –
I have to make them scan and rhyme.

So I plan to slow down a bit,
But hope they will still be a hit,
Though down in numbers from the peak,
To likely one or two each week.

I might do more, I cannot say,
Depends what’s in the news each day,
But do keep reading what I write –
They might not all be total sh*te!



It is reported that owing to increased use of mobile phones with their digital clocks children and teenagers are having difficulty learning to tell the time.

To tell the time was, as a rule,
A thing that people learnt at school,
But now it seems the mobile phone,
Has made our children much more prone,
To reading just that type of clock,
And not the one that goes ‘tick tock’.

“It is old-fashioned,” they might say,
“And there’s no point in it today;
I have no time to learn such stuff –
To learn my phone is bad enough!”


Out of order sign

It is reported that John Bercow, the former speaker of the House of Commons who has been accused of extremely bad behaviour and bullying his staff, gave a speech on Channel 4 about ‘courtesy in politics’!

Remember Bercow, first name John,
The raucous rudester? – That’s the one;
He did preside for for several years,
Over MPs including sirs.

He was so rude staff did complain,
But it seemed pointless in the main,
Because no matter what was said,
No-one could do his job instead.

But now he’s out, he looks for work,
Someplace where he’s not thought a berk;
But you would really not have guessed,
That he’d be thought to be the best,
To talk about politeness and,
He should not then be in demand.

With his track record I would say,
He won’t be working day to day,
And so with just a bit of luck,
We will no more with him be stuck!



It is reported that an Oxford college has started a row by proposing to end the tradition of saying grace before dinner.

For centuries it’s been the case,
At every dinner to say grace,
And say it, too, in Latin text,
Which seems to make some people vexed.

But they are not the students who,
You might think would like something new,
To go with their fish, chips and peas,
Or p’rhaps a curry or Chinese.

Why no! This time it is the boss,
The Provost doesn’t give a toss,
About tradition for she says,
This can be done in other ways.

We don’t need Latin, that’s old tosh,
And only known by people posh,
So others waiting for their food,
Are likely to be in a mood,
Waiting while Latin grace is said,
And might not wait to eat their bread.

But back to what I said at first,
The students said it was the worst,
To get rid of tradition which,
Their education does enrich.

So now the Provost has been told,
By students to put it on hold,
And maybe when they’ve had a drink,
It’s also time for a rethink.



It is reported that a primary school in Brighton has instituted a ‘gentle hands’ playground policy which prevents pupils playing tig (or tag); they are encouraged to hold hands and clap instead.

At school we used to run around,
And now and then I will be bound,
We had a fall, perhaps a graze,
For tig was then the latest craze.

The most at risk were hands and knees,
Because they scrape the ground with ease,
But wounds like this would never last,
Because there was Elastoplast.

But now though plasters still exist,
For hands and knees and even wrist,
The ones in charge have now decreed,
That children must not move at speed.

Instead they really should stand still,
Hold hands with others if they will,
But either way, though this is crap,
They will all be allowed to clap.

The kids won’t like it, that is plain,
And though they’re likely to complain,
It matters not they disagree,
For all of this is now PC!