Monopoly tax

It is reported that the SNP Government in Edinburgh is to increase the rates of income tax in Scotland. Risky, eh?

The Scots are noted for their thrift,
(Tight-fisted, if you get my drift,)
And they have a no-nonsense way,
Of dealing with requests to pay.

They listen with impatience hid,
To learn how much to pay they’re bid,
Then if they think you take the p*ss,
You might get a Glaswegian kiss.

They’re honest as the day is long,
Like speaking in their native tongue –
That’s English with a Scottish lilt –
And then there’s bagpipes and the kilt.

But one thing they don’t like is tax,
That’s much the same as Sassenachs,
So if the tax should be increased,
It’s likely they’ll protest at least.

So when Ms Sturgeon stood up and,
Took her life right into her hands,
By announcing that from today,
Scots people will more taxes pay,
She knew that this was quite a risk –
See in verse two: my asterisk.

But Mrs Sturgeon is no fool,
She even sometimes keeps her cool,
And she’ll have worked out ’cos she’s short,
That burly men from that seaport,
Will find it quite hard not to miss,
Should they try a Glaswegian kiss!

Image – Images money / Flickr



Bank of England

It is reported that the Bank of England is to rewrite its rule book so that it is gender-neutral.

This lady’s very old and staid,
So it is rare that there are made,
Changes to all her regs and rules,
Perhaps kept in her reticules.

She’s been here for three hundred years,
Populated by mainly sirs,
For women few have ever been
In charge, though some have been a queen.

But after centuries, now three,
When, sad to say, all is PC,
The Bank’s old name is under threat,
Although it hasn’t quite gone yet.

New rules might say her name must change,
But most alternatives sound strange,
And none of them could ever beat,
Old Lady of Threadneedle Street.

We could say ‘person’ but that’s naff,
Some people hearing it might laugh,
A few, most likely, wouldn’t care,
But some would fall into despair.

And there are other titles which,
Succumb now to the PC itch:
‘Grandfathering’ and ‘City Gent’,
Offensive, although none was meant.

But what of the name of the street?
Does it the PC standard meet?
Or has it got a sexist tone,
About which PC folk will moan?

There is, of course, no end to this,
For PC zealots nought will miss,
So best to keep things as they are,
And then spend more time in the bar.

But if you are in charge take care,
The PC lot are everywhere,
So doing as above I say,
May just not work out anyway.



It is reported that a recent book, written by former aides, claims that Donald Trump has a (female) aide steam-press his suit when travelling on Air Force One while he is wearing it, and he is also said to eat a lot of junk food.

You’ve heard of Donald Trump before,
With articles writ by the score,
Describing what he does and says,
At home and when out on forays.

There is some quite important stuff,
Mixed up with lots and lots of guff,
And if I wrote of it again,
You’d say I was a complete pain.

But now, today, new things emerge,
Which I would definitely urge,
You to read and to take it in,
Though it could be fake news or spin.

The first is: there’s a choice of food,
To suit the palate of this dude;
It isn’t wide, might be inane,
Includes stuff from a pizza chain,
And burgers – that’s Big Macs, you know –
Plus KFC – we’re good to go.

He likes his biscuits, also chips,
But then he says, “No buts, no ifs,
I don’t want any opened pack,
For I’m a hypochondriac.

With opened packs you never know,
Who’s poked in dirty fingers so,
They may be full of germs and will,
As like as not just make me ill,”

But p’rhaps the oddest tale to tell,
Is, since he must look smart and swell,
He has an aide steam-press his suit,
While, in his plane, he is en route.

“So what?” I think I hear you say,
“It should be pressed most every day.
’Cos he’s a most important dude,
No matter that he can be rude.”

I quite agree but in the main,
Most people take it off again,
So that it can be pressed while flat,
And not while in it one is sat.

Let’s not dwell on the reasons why,
He does this flying through the sky,
But could it explain why he’s rude?
I don’t mean ’cos of the junk food,
But while his suit is being pressed,
It might just be, you may have guessed,
That the steam-press was set too high,
And burnt a red patch on his thigh.

We all know that he is thin-skinned,
His name suggests he might have wind,
But surely, if his leg’s in pain,
He’ll come down like a hurricane!



It is reported that Theresa May and the European Commission thought they had reached agreement on the Irish border conundrum but it seems nobody asked the DUP.

I’m not intending to explain,
(For that would just create more pain,)
What was said and maybe was not,
Both in and out of earshot,
About the Irish border which,
In Brexit’s something of a glitch.

Too many people think they’ve got,
A veto and so the upshot.
Is, frankly, no-one will agree,
How border travel can be free.

And these demands that some maintain,
Are very different (not the same),
And no-one’s even slightly wise,
And hence prepared to compromise.

So all these circles can’t be squared,
With some of the pain being shared;
In fact, no-one at all would budge,
So this last draft was just a fudge.

On the EU side this seemed fine,
They do these fudges all the time;
But harder heads were now at play,
Who found out and to their dismay,
When they discovered what was writ,
They all had a collective fit.

The detail I will not repeat,
So trouble not to take your seat;
But I say this because it’s clear:
There isn’t even a veneer,
Of common sense in what’s been said,
So no basis to go ahead.

What happens next we can but guess,
There might be more dismay, not less,
But I hope in the future tense,
We might see some more common sense.

At least The Donald’s not involved,
He might think this a problem solved;
But Ireland wouldn’t build a wall,
They’d not want that at all at all.


McDonnell John

It is reported that the Shadow Chancellor, John McDonnell, has poo-pooed the idea that he should discuss financial figures in interviews because he has ‘iPads and advisers to deal with that sort of thing’.

“Now when our party comes to power,
We will, for sure, within the hour,
Renationalise the rail and such,
And, really, it won’t cost too much.

That is because it will all pay,
As more workers go on their way,
And since I am not under oath,
I can say we’ll see lots of growth.

So that’s a ‘one-to-one return’,
Because more people work and earn,
And with the extra tax they pay,
It’s easy to the costs defray.”

“That sounds like nonsense, now to me,
Costs will rise exponentially,
So for our listeners at a loss,
Please tell them how much this will cost.”

“To ask me that just is not right,
It’s journalism rather trite,
And, in fact, it just makes me mad,
For I’ve advisors with iPad.

So I don’t need to know the figs,
And whether they are small or big;
The only thing you need to do,
Is listen when I say to you,
That though it sounds a bit oddball,
It won’t cost anything at all!

So do believe me when I say,
Things will work really well this way,
And if they don’t then it’s just tough –
I’m old and I have had enough.”



It is reported that Donald and Melania Trump have visited the Great Wall of China.

When you’re important you get shown,
Big tourist things but on your own,
And so it was with Donald, he,
The guest right now of Mr Xi.

He and his wife went to the wall,
He said, “It’s wide but should be tall.
I’m building one of these, you know,
But when the plans are good to go,
It will be very, very high,
So if a Mexican should try,
To scale it so that he can cross,
He’ll soon be finding out who’s boss!

He will stay on the other side,
Knowing full well when others tried,
To cross into the USA,
The wall each time turned them away.

But maybe, while we are all here,
You could, perhaps, give me a steer,
And tell me now, before I go,
Which side of this is Mexico?”



It is reported that leaked documents reveal numerous really rich people and companies using tax havens to pay less tax.

As if we didn’t have enough,
Long-running stories full of guff,
We’ve now another one to read,
Which tells of wealthy people’s greed.

I should, right now, if not before,
Say people did not break the law;
In fact, I do not have a clue,
But this is what the others do.

So that disclaimer out the way,
It is OK for me to say,
Some things that have reported been,
’Bout people who are rich but mean.

By ‘mean’ I mean that some of they,
Take steps so not much tax they pay,
When, really, with their great big pile,
They could the taxman pay with style.

They could dress up and ask him round,
Then offer him a million pound,
And I’d expect he would be pleased,
As his collecting job is eased.

But if they try to hide their wealth,
He’ll likely track them down by stealth,
And all the leaks now come to light,
Will give him ammo for a fight.

So if you’re rich you ought to pay,
The tax you owe from day to day,
And if you don’t, then do be warned,
Your yacht just might have to be pawned!