piggy bank

It is reported that the Government ordered no one or two pence coins from the Royal Mint in 2018, saying that there were already enough in circulation.

This topic may not be so new,
I’ve written it before for you,
But maybe things have changed somewhat,
So let’s now have another shot.

The Government was asked one day,
How many copper coins now they,
Had asked the Royal Mint to press,
To keep transactions free of stress;
That’s coins of one and two p size,
To maintain currency supplies.

The answer when it came was strange,
And outside the expected range,
It wasn’t big, it wasn’t small,
They said they needed none at all.

“A – ha,” you’re thinking, “that must mean,
These coins with pictures of the Queen,
Which now no longer have much clout,
Are probably to be phased out.”

“Not so, not so,” comes the reply,
“The numbers we still have are high,
And so it really does make sense,
To use up these small coins of pence.

We’re sure that there will be enough,
To get your change when buying stuff,
But not so many that they will,
Clog up the supermarket till.”

You can believe that if you like,
It might forestall a pricing hike,
But surely these two coins won’t last –
Their usefulness has long since passed!



It is reported that beers with sexist names are to be banned from this year’s Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) Great British Beer Festival.

Craft beers are now so very good,
If you don’t drink them then you should,
But from now on do be aware,
Their names must now be picked with care.

For CAMRA has this year decreed,
That brand names must be guaranteed,
To not offend the ladies who,
Might want to sit and drink a few.

Their drinking might be quite intense,
But not if they should take offence,
At names they on the bottles see,
With which some might just disagree.

So no ‘Slap Bottom’, ‘Dizzy Blonde’,
Not even names of which you’re fond,
‘Slack Alice’ also will not do,
And probably ‘Top Totty’ too.

So pick your name, enjoy your ale,
It might be dark or even pale,
But if its name seems rather crass,
Be sure to drink it from a glass!



It is reported that The Government now has at least three cats on its payroll: Larry, Palmerston and Gladstone.

The Government now has three cats.
To chase the mice and maybe rats,
And more of them I think we’ll see,
In government publicity.

I do not mean more cats thereby,
But rather, through the camera’s eye,
Their pictures if they are not shy,
I think are set to multiply.

For people mostly like a cat –
There’s nothing very wrong with that –
And even those who this dispute,
Still find their pictures rather cute.

So feline pictures can’t go wrong,
Unless they do a poo or pong,
In which case and without delay,
They must be shown the litter tray.

The cats, as I have said, are three:
There’s Gladstone at The Treasury,
Palmerston at The FCO*

And lastly, as I’m sure you know,
There’s Larry who since way back when,
Has been the cat at Number Ten.

I s’pose he thinks he is in charge,
Has certain duties to discharge,
But whether Larry can control,
The other two cats on the whole,
Perhaps is not yet very clear,
Because they often disappear.

But anyway, we wish them well,
How long they’ll be there none can tell,
But probably, they will survive,
A few elections – four plus five?

* Foreign and Commonwealth Office

Image -Andy Thornley / Creative commons



It is reported that Britain’s remotest cash machine at Durness, Sutherland, north west Scotland has been closed leaving residents and tourists with a 100 mile round trip to use another. So better to get a wee bit o’ cash beforehand and stick tae it; an we’re in the reet place for that!

The Scots like money, that is true,
They stick to it, och aye tha noo,
But do they spend it? It a fact,
There’s not much evidence for that.

But even though they don’t spend much,
On tartan kilts and trews and such,
They always like most every day,
To keep a few notes tucked away.

And that’s the problem, I am sure,
The notes required were getting fewer,
And so the bank that did dispense,
Found it no longer made much sense,
To keep the cashpoint counting right,
Through every morning, noon and night.

And so along with other cuts,
No consultation, ifs or buts,
This cash machine, now little used,
Has had its last reprieve refused.

There is a moral to this verse,
Which is that things can’t get much worse,
Than when Scots can’t get notes – a few –
To show they stick to them like glue!



It is reported that a recent survey by the University of East London has found that there are Lots of bacteria lurking on ticket machines, escalators, lifts, cash machines, handrails, door handles, soap dispensers, lavatories and many other surfaces that we touch as we go about every day. Surprised or not?

Most of us really ought to know,
That as around the place we go,
Unless we’re maybe in Japan,
All things are not quite spick and span.

“It’s obvious,” I hear you say,
“Because, I would think, of the way,
We touch things all the time so we,
Will dirty them to some degree.”

It would help if we washed our hands,
With soap and water (any brands)
But now I think I recollect,
This really won’t have much effect,
Lest everybody has the aim,
Of doing pretty much the same.

But numbers really are too great,
In which case we might meet our fate,
Succumbing to a bad disease,
Unless, of course, we’re Japanese!

But don’t despair, just do your best,
Try not to get too much depressed;
For centuries it has been so –
It’s really just the status quo!



It is reported that The Annual World Nettle Eating Championships has taken place in Dorset and has been won by Tony Jeyes who devoured 58 ft of the stinging delicacy. The ladies’ competition was won by Lindie Rogers who managed 46 ft, dipped in cider.

We know that nettles can be ate,
But most folk haven’t tried them yet,
And every year there is a test,
To see who eats these leaves the best.

In Dorset this year they all came,
To eat the weeds – all much the same,
And as they munched and munched away,
The contest went on all the day.

Now in the end the winner ate,
In feet about some fifty eight,
Whereas the ladies’ winner’s fix,
Was rather less at forty-six.

My rhyming here is not too good,
I would improve it if I could,
But I can’t yet myself to bring,
To eat the nettle with its sting.



It is reported that the new ‘can do’ Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, has enthusiastically announced the recruitment of 20,000 more policemen over the next three years. Unsurprisingly, following the Theresa May ‘can’t do’ era, the first reaction of the gloomsters is that this will not be possible because there aren’t enough lockers. Indeed!

So Boris has announced that we,
Will twenty thousand more cops see,
Including, I think, that will mean,
An extra one down in Dock Green.

This is part of the new ‘can do’,
But will need some logistics too,
And probably, though hard to say,
A few of them might want some pay.

But gloomsters from a former time,
Have thought quite hard how best to whine,
And they’ve concluded that they ought,
To point out there’ll be lockers short.

A copper needs to put his things –
The stuff each day to work he brings –
Where it will be clean and secure,
Then when dressed he will look demure.

But we’re not daunted now by this ,
The gloomsters’ views should be dismissed,
And we should simply say, “Come on.
These things are sold on Amazon.

They’re on display in every size,
And if we are not thick but wise,
The cost of shipping can be free,
And p’rhaps next day delivery!”