@don’t shout!


It is reported that lawyers are advising managers not to use capital letters in emails as to do so may be considered equivalent to shouting and could lead to complaints and disciplinary action.

An email can be rather terse,
But less so if it is in verse,
As it conveys a message to,
Someone a bit like me or you.

Because they’re brief, it’s hard to show,
Emotion when you press the ‘Go’,
But if someone is in disgrace,
You might write it in upper case.

But lawyers say you should watch out,
It may be deemed to be a shout,
And if your voice this way you raise,
It could start an harassment case.



It is reported that a baby has been born in Bethlehem and attended by three kings.

I’m writing all these words by hand,
While sitting in the Holy Land,
About two thousand years ago,
But no-one knows exactly so,
Although the date is pretty rough,
I think it’s likely close enough.

I’m glad the date is out the way,
For back then on that Christmas Day,
A man and woman, so it’s said,
Were seeking, for the night, a bed.

They told the landlord they’d come far,
But when they asked him at the bar,
He said his rooms were rather full,
But round the back he had a bull,
That might perhaps his stable share,
If they would like to check round there.

The woman now looked none too sure,
About this offer from the brewer,
But if the beast were just a cow,
Well, maybe that would do for now.

The landlord said he’d go and check,
When he came back he said, “Oh heck!”
The bull, he said, had disappeared,
But as he had the stable neared,
He saw that there was not much space,
For others had now filled the place.

There was a cow, a donkey too,
Some flocks of sheep – just one or two,
And though the night was pretty dark,
Is seemed as full as Noah’s ark.

“We’ll take it,” said her husband Joe.
“The forecast is for sleet and snow.
The sheep seem quiet, do not bleat,
But have you anything to eat?”

The landlord said, “I’m not too sure,
But I’ve some bottles from the brewer;
The beer inside is dark not pale,
For it’s our special Christmas ale.”

The woman said, “That will do well,
My baby’s coming I can tell,
And after I have given birth,
Expect some changes on this earth.

But as for now the ale is fine,
Because you will find out with wine,
That although it’s as yet unknown,
From water he can make his own.”

So there they stayed that Christmas night,
They found the stable quite all right,
But next day the innkeeper said,
“I’m almost going off my head.

I didn’t sleep a wink all night,
That star up there was far too bright,
But what was right beyond the pale,
Was that some bloke the worse for ale,
At three o’clock gets up and sings,
A song that starts, ‘We are three kings’.

I really don’t know what to do,
They’re much more trouble, them, than you;
I’ve put them in my three best rooms,
But misery for me now looms,
With prospects that are pretty bleak,
’Cos they’ve booked in to stay next week.

They’ve all brought gifts, they say they are,
For me to keep behind the bar,
Until a fourth king should appear,
In Bethlehem or somewhere near,
And then the gifts they will bestow,
On this king that they barely know.

But I think we might play a trick,
Because these kings are pretty thick.
So I’ve a Christmas cracker here,
Just very slightly stained with beer,
It’s painted blue and red and brown,
And inside is a paper crown.

If your child will just put it on,
The kings will think he is the one,
To have the gifts as was foretold,
And one of them is solid gold.

So after that just pay your bill,
I’ll put it over by the till;
It might be big but do not bitch,
Because by then we’ll all be rich!

And as for my three guests from hell? –
We’ll all be shot of them as well!”



It is reported that eighty-four percent of the population grate cheese using the ‘large raindrop’ side of the grater.

A grater is for grating cheese,
And do it with consummate ease,
They’re usually all much the same,
Shaped like that building with their name.

At home, of graters, we have six,
So easy then to pick and mix,
And so with total two times three,
I can claim to an expert be.

So when I read most people choose,
The larger raindrop side to use,
I’m not surprised, I do myself,
And leave the others on the shelf.

My reason, though not hard to glean,
Is ’cos it’s easier to clean,
Than other sides with smaller holes,
For hygiene is one of my goals.

But still a problem can arise,
Which needs some thought if you are wise,
And that’s to learn all of the ways,
That you can not your knuckles graze.

Most people, it seems, simply say,
They eat the last bit anyway,
While others want the whole lot in,
So grate it right down to the skin.

But I, myself, find it’s enough,
To hold it by that cling film stuff,
Because, though it might start to shred,
Your fingers stay intact instead.

So when you’re grating cheese take care,
Your fingers don’t get too close there,
Your grating then will be a breeze,
And it can still be cracking cheese.



It is reported that O2’s phone and data network was out of action for a day leaving millions of people apparently unable to function.

So let’s about it make no bones,
We all rely on mobile phones,
To speak to people when they ring,
And, too, it seems all sorts of things.

They tell us when the bus is due,
The fastest way from me to you,
And if we press the buttons right,
They’ll tell us where to go tonight,
To see a film or have a meal,
And check out any special deal.

So when the network does go down,
It causes more than just a frown,
As people struggle to adjust,
To life without the phones they trust.

They’re helpless, that much is quite plain,
And it seems they can’t use their brain,
To carry on without their phone,
But many still know how to moan.

So what’s the answer? I don’t know.
Apart from playing tick-tack-toe,
But one should not think it is rude,
If ones ear at last comes unglued.


Ten pound note

It is reported that a Scotsman travelling in Kent called in police complaining of a hate crime when his Scottish ten pound note was not accepted at the post office.

You’d think a Scotsman wouldn’t mind,
If in a shop of any kind,
His offer to pay was refused,
So his cash would remain unused.

And so it was in County Kent,
The place our Scottish hero went,
He asked for stamps, you ought to note,
And offered them a ten pound note.

The clerk examined what it was,
And then rejected it because,
In England notes like this are not,
Accepted since they are all Scot.

The man said, although not in rhyme,
“This seems to me a bad hate crime ;
You are refusing this note and,
It’s ’cos it’s from another land.”

The clerk replied, “That isn’t true,
And I’ve no quarrel now with you;
I’ve seen these Scottish notes before –
Refusing’s not against the law.”

The Scotsman then called the police,
Who came around like lightning greased,
But once they’d been told what had passed,
They gave their verdict very fast,
Proclaiming that they could now state,
That this was not a crime of hate.

So that was it, no crime was done,
No criminals then on the run.
And our man with his ten pound note?
He’s spending it at John O’Groats!



It is reported that companies sending out Christmas greetings by email may fall foul of the new EU General Data Protection Regulations (GDPR) which forbid the sending of unsolicited emails.

The EU’s meddling knows no bounds,
And people recently have found,
A recent law that has been passed,
Is leaving well-wishers aghast.

Now well-wishers do greetings send,
To folk that they count as their friends,
To wish them luck, good fortune too,
In everything they choose to do.

But one occasion beats them all,
You’ll find the cards on any stall,
And that is Christmas when one sends,
The Season’s Greetings to ones friends.

You can do this with paper card –
No need to write quite like The Bard –
The words can really be quite few,
In fact, just two or three will do.

But people who are more advanced,
In Britain and a few in France,
Think paper cards are rather stale,
And send them instead by email.

Some others say, “That isn’t right,
You’re doing it because you’re tight;
To just send cards now by email,
Is really quite beyond the pale.”

But back to our friend the EU,
Which rather likes to trouble brew,
And their new rule decrees the way,
Our Christmas cards are sent today.

The paper type is still all right,
Including those with verses trite,
But email ones will have to go,
Which for tight people is a blow.

The reason is a bit obscure,
To understand it? I’m not sure,
But I think, though there are some flaws,
The new data protection laws,
To which you now must have regard,
Mean you can’t send an email card.

Why have they done this? Who can say?
It’s just they legislate this way,
For they like to all things control,
Which is what they see as their role.

A lot of us would disagree,
And think that we should all be free,
To send our greetings as we choose,
And not subject to the EU’s,
Diktats which if they’re not a fad,
Are generally pretty bad.

We could, of course, try to object,
Ask if they’ll be more circumspect,
But they will likely just not care,
And wave two fingers in the air!



It is reported that animal rights group PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) has declared that the Dorset village of Wool is an affront to sheep and have asked that the village be renamed Vegan Wool.

It sounds ridiculous, I know,
That somebody should have a go,
Complaining that a village name,
Should be changed so it’s not the same.

The name in question? It is Wool,
And though it’s all a load of bull,
They say the name is rather cheap,
Insulting, then, to Shaun the Sheep.

But villagers who this have heard,
Say that these folk have badly erred,
Because their facts have not been checked,
Perhaps through lack of intellect.

Despite appearances, the name,
Though as sheep’s fluffy coats the same,
Has no connection with, in fact,
A fleece which may be white or black.

In fact this short word means a well,
Back in the days when few could spel,
And since this fact has now been proved,
The Wool sign need not be removed.

But there’s a lesson in this rhyme,
For those who complain all the time:
If you want to a nuisance be,
Then first please check your history,
And if you find you are not right,
Try not to history re-write!