SARDINIAN SAND

beach heart-2029272_960_720

It is reported that a tourist has been fined £1000 for taking a bottleful of sand from a beach in Sardinia.

You might think sand is not worth much,
If so you would be out of touch,
At least where the sardines come from,
For there it could cost you a bomb.

It seems their sand is rather nice,
And people take it, sometimes twice,
But this affects the beach – it goes –
But where that’s to? Nobody knows.

Perhaps it goes as souvenirs,
To show to neighbours drinking beers,
But every bit that’s taken – each –
Is playing havoc with the beach.

So taking it is not allowed,
By any of the tourist crowd,
And if they do they’ll get a fine,
Discouraging them all next time.

They search you at the airport when,
Waiting to board your plane and then,
Should they discover any sand,
You can expect a reprimand.

Not only that, maybe a fine,
Which can be big to send a sign,
To others who might do the same,
And show them sand is not fair game.

So if you want some sand take care,
It doesn’t come from just round there;
You really must be on your guard,
So buy it down the builders’ yard!

PHRASED OUT

Phrase books

It is reported that fewer people are taking phrase books on holiday, opting instead for mobile phone translation. Or speaking loudly.

When you are in a foreign land,
Soaking the sunshine, sea and sand,
It is quite good, where’er you are,
To speak in the vernacular.

And if you’ve no linguistic bent,
To help this most noble intent,
A phrase book is just what you need,
To verbalise your thoughts and deeds.

They don’t cost much, they are quite small,
They work for people, short or tall;
And phrases there that they translate,
Help you, with local folk, debate.

But now, it seems, the mobile phone,
With a translator of its own,
Is elbowing the book aside,
As first and foremost language guide.

So how do these two now compare,
In a comparison that’s fair?

Well, Google can make big mistakes,
And sometimes one is all it takes,
To start an argument or fight,
If you don’t get the wording right.

I don’t examples want to give,
For I am rather keen to live,
And this by foreigners is read,
So one mistake might see me dead.

So when you try to speak, take care,
’Cos you are foreign while you’re there;
Alive is preferable to dead,
So watch your back and use your head.

PONGO

Deodorant

It is reported that Vienna’s transport authority has been handing out free deodorant to commuters on its underground railway during the hot weather.

Vienna can get rather hot,
And in the trains you get a lot,
Of sweaty people, I can tell,
And most of them then stink like hell.

It isn’t nice to smell like this,
Some not like sweat but more like p*ss,
For some do not their armpits spray,
Before they leave for work each day.

But now an answer has been found,
The price per person? Just a pound,
And so the railway gives out free,
Deodorant to he or she.

The plan is that they spray a squirt
Inside and underneath their shirt,
And if they do this every day,
The smell will quickly go away.

So everyone is happy then,
Including women, also men,
For now their ride upon the train,
Is smelling sweetly once again!

So in Vienna do take care,
Deodorant to always wear;
Important to remember this,
If you don’t want to smell like p*ss.

ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT

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It is reported that hotel booking websites are trying to pressurise people into booking immediately by claiming only ‘one room left’ on their booking pages and the advertising regulators want to put a stop to this use of undue pressure.

When booking rooms you want to feel,
That you have got a decent deal,
And so you check some booking sites,
For the requisite hotel nights.

It’s nice if you can take your time,
Assess their food as well as wine,
And then maybe check out some more,
Perhaps as you have done before.

The hotels, though, are none too keen,
And may be very slightly mean,
By telling you there’s one room left,
And after that they are bereft.

Their hope is you will panic then,
Get out the cheque book and the pen,
(Or what replaces them these days)
And book up for your holidays.

But regulators say it’s bad,
To make folk think they better had,
Book up immediately in case,
They end up in a booking race,
And if they lose, the room might go,
Booked by some other so-and-so.

So when you’re booking, take your time,
Check out the food as well as wine;
And if you find the room has gone,
There’ll always be another one.

NO SPACE FOR VOMIT

Sick cartoon

It is reported that a NASA astronaut has said that she expects rich celebrities who are planning a space trip with Virgin Galactica or some similar space travel company to spend most of their time being sick; and in space the vomit generally has nowhere to go.

A trip in space sounds really good,
If you don’t want one then you should,
At least rich people think that way –
They’ve paid to go up there one day.

They likely think it’s like first class,
Based on how much they’ve paid in cash,
But astronauts say, “Do beware!
It’s pretty rough when you’re up there.

You may find it seems like a trick,
With time spent mostly being sick,
And when you’re sick in space, you know,
It really has nowhere to go.”

So if you go in space beware,
It isn’t like first class up there,
Or even like a budget fare,
With somebody like Ryanair.

LNER SPEEDS AGAIN

Mallard (SNG)

It is reported that the Government is to temporarily take over the running of the Virgin East Coast Railway and it is to be re-named the London North Eastern Railway, LNER.

We’ve sort of all been here before:
This line has had owners galore,
And three or four of them have been,
During the last twelve or thirteen,
Years during which the owners say,
They simply could not make it pay.

Their sums, they say, were slightly wrong,
And then they found before too long,
Predictions of a pile of cash,
We’re not just simply wrong but rash.

In normal cases of this sort,
The parties can end up in court,
Or, if it’s bad enough, they just,
Bite on the bullet and go bust.

But railways are not quite the same,
For travellers have as their aim,
To start at A and go to B,
And not, instead, from C to D.

So if the company goes bust,
Some other well-known outfit must,
Continue all their trains to run,
Just like the bankrupt one had done.

That well-known outfit, you may guess,
Is the Government – sadly, yes –
And they this duty must not shirk.
Or else nobody gets to work.

And so that’s what they will now do,
Run it for many, not for few,
And they should now their fingers cross,
That it does not run at a loss.

It has been done this way before,
So they should know what is in store,
But how well-run it will then be,
We will just have to wait and see.

They’ll call it the LNER,
With trains from London going far,
Right up to Scotland in the North,
And right across the Firth of Forth.

So will the route make cash or not?
It will transport folk who are Scot,
And maybe that does not bode well,
If ticket prices start to swell,
For they are mostly minded to,
Stick to their hard-earned cash like glue.

Image – Alan Wilson / Flickr

CHOCOLATE SPREAD

Chocolate spread

It is reported that a tanker overturned on the motorway in Poland spilling molten chocolate all over the road.

The chocolate tanker did a swerve,
But didn’t manage quite the curve,
As the driver who was a Pole,
Tried desperately to keep control.

In this he failed, I have to say,
His truck tipped over anyway,
And as he stood up in the road,
Surrounded by his sticky load,
He realised, just like you do,
That other cars were sticking too.

His tanker was on quite a tilt,
Most of his load now having spilt,
And as he wondered what to do,
He saw that it was setting too.

The police were called, they closed the road,
Until the tanker could be towed,
And then the firemen arrived,
Who take things like this in their stride.

They stood and looked, they scratched their heads,
They’d not seen this before, they said;
And as they wondered what to do,
With all this sticky chocolate goo,
They, too, observed it wasn’t wet,
For most of it by now had set.

And then a brainwave someone had,
Who thought that it would be too bad,
If all this chocolate – it’s called paste –
From this point on just went to waste.

So several hundred kids were brought,
Each armed with lunchbox, knife and fork,
And so by the end of the day,
The chocolate had been chipped away.

The traffic flowed, the kids were pleased,
The transport headache had been eased;
But later on that night, Oh dear!
Another tanker tried to steer,
Around an animal that was,
Licking the road surface because,
Although the kids had been quite deft,
In some places a bit was left.

Now solid chocolate gives no grip,
The tanker went arse over tip,
And chocolate once again now flowed,
All spreading out across the road.

The rest of this you may surmise,
It’s obvious so there’s no prize,
Suffice to say in prose or rhyme,
They all knew what to do this time!

(Please note: the second tanker is fictitious.)