Dads Army

It is reported that Barclays Bank in the Suffolk town of Framlingham mistakenly spelt the town name as Framlington on the new sign outside its branch. Fortunately, with a bit of quick thinking, the manager, one Captain Mainwaring(?), was able to save face.

You’ve heard of Walmington-on-Sea,
For, in the past, it used to be,
On TV screens for our delight,
On pretty much each Sat’day night.

One day the butcher, ame of Jones,
Who deals in meat, fat, tripe and bones,
Went in the bank and what he saw,
Resulted in drop of the jaw.

That is to say he was amazed,
But with his background wasn’t fazed,
For when in the Sudan you’ve fought,
There isn’t much, I would have thought,
Could not be dealt with – like a threat –
With musket, gun or bayonet.

He didn’t wait, he rushed inside,
Saw Mainwaring puffed up with pride,
Who asked Jones if he liked the sign,
Which had been there since half past nine.

“Don’t panic!” then the butcher said,
“I saw the sign and then it read,
But misspelt is Walmington’s name,
As Framlington – not quite the same!”

The manager then dashed outside,
Intent? To stifle injured pride.
He feared that he might turn bright red,
But thought a bit and then he said:

“I’m glad you spotted our new sign,
It was a small idea of mine;
The misspelt name is meant to be,
So that if Nazi Germany,
Should try to invade from afar,
They really won’t know where they are.

This will give us the upper hand,
As we defend our coast and land;
And I think my idea’s so good,
That Winston Churchill really should,
In his mind have it uppermost,
And use it up and down the coast.”

Jones looked askance but didn’t say,
He hadn’t thought of it that way,
But Mainwaring had played an ace,
And, for the moment, saved his face!

This hasn’t really much to do,
With Barclays Bank that’s known to you,
And the truth is, the faulty sign,
Had been replaced by dinner time.




It is reported that Prue Leith, new judge of The Great British Bake Off on Channel 4, has been advising viewers to record the programme and watch it later, skipping the advertisements. Her employer, Channel 4, is not amused.

If you liked Bake Off just like me,
When it was on the BBC,
A problem might now be in store,
Since it has moved to Channel 4.

The problem is, I think, the ads,
Which might not matter to the lads,
When they are watching football and,
Are just intent on getting canned.

But if you’re watching baking cakes,
These can be irritating breaks,
Because they might make you lose track,
Unless, of course, you want a snack.

So Prue Leith – she’s the newest judge –
Has said with a wink and a nudge,
You should record it while on air,
And though it really isn’t fair,
You can fast-forward through each ad –
Use the remote, it isn’t hard.

But Channel 4 said, “Bad advice!
Some adverts can be rather nice.
But even if they’re not we must,
Show all of them or we’ll go bust.

They pay for programmes that we make,
Including this, the British Bake,
And she should know, this judge called Prue,
They have to pay her wages too.

Perhaps she has been on the wine,
But if she doesn’t toe the line,
And all our Bake Off ads extol,
She might soon find she’s on the dole.”

So, Mrs Leith, you have been warned,
The C4 ads must not be scorned,
And it seems likely if you do,
You’ll not make it to Series 2!


Dr Who 13

It is reported that the thirteenth and next Doctor Who is to be a woman.

The whole world knows of Doctor Who,
And how now every year or two,
He changes in his looks and ways,
A mixture, then, of straights and gays.

This last line may not be correct,
My facts so far remain unchecked,
But in this modern day and age,
The actors of the screen and stage,
Are often picked to cover all,
And also, maybe, some oddball.

Of doctors there’ve a dozen been,
And so the next will be thirteen,
But what some say’s beyond the pale,
Is every one has been a male.

So now for Doctor – yes, thirteen –
We have a star of stage and screen,
Who’s in her thirties, blonde and pale,
And notably also female.

Miss Jodie Whittaker no less,
Will she be good? You’ll have to guess.
But I just cannot wait to see,
If casting her which looks PC,
As the next doctor in the queue,
Will go down well as Doctor Who.

Image – tahakhan / Creative commons



It is reported that Michael Bond, creator of Paddington Bear has died at the age of ninety-one.

It’s surely true we are all fond,
Of bear creator Michael Bond,
Some might not recognise the name,
But will adore him just the same.

The bear to which he once gave birth,
Followed by years and years of mirth,
Is Paddington you may have guessed,
Same as in London to the west.

He came from the depths of Peru,
Why he was from there no-one knew,
But in his books, films and TV,
He captured hearts in all these three.

So how should we remember he?
Perhaps some sort of refugee?
Or that which stories does pervade –
His sandwiches of marmalade?

Image – R Sones / Wikimedia commons


Batman logo

It is reported that Adam West, who played the original Batman on television in the 1960s, has died aged eighty-eight.

I wonder if perhaps tonight.
You might now all like some respite,
From politics after last week,
So to that end I’ve had a peek,
Right through the papers of today,
But sadly they’ve not much to say,
That won’t be getting on our wicks –
That is the dreaded politics.

The only thing that I could see,
Of interest then to some degree,
Is news that Adam West has died,
A fact that has been verified.

If you don’t know I should point out,
That this actor without a doubt,
Was the first Batman you could see,
In 1960s on TV.

It’s sad that he should pass away,
Just two days prior yesterday,
So Gotham City should take care –
Joker and Penguin are still there!

Image –


Conchita Wurst

It is reported that the Eurovision Song Contest has taken place in Kiev and the winner was … Portugal.

I’ve long been dreading yesterday,
’Cos I must think of things to say,
About the Euro Song Contest,
Which is abysmal at its best.

The music’s dire most will agree,
It doesn’t help that it’s all free,
But if we’re lucky p’rhaps one day,
They’ll show it where we have to pay.

And contestants can be so strange,
Especially viewed at close range,
And Conchita who once came first,
Was possibly one of the Wurst.

Statistics, as you’d guess, abound,
And some analysis has found,
That Ireland’s in fact won most times,
With the UK one place behind,
Failing to take the winner’s cup,
But fifteen times the runner up.

At risk you’ll think that I don’t care,
I think I will now finish there,
My piece today is pretty poor,
And surely you’re not wanting more.

Image – Albin Olsson License: CC BY-SA 3.0


Baking ingredients

It is reported that Mary Berry of GBBO fame now has a selection of shop-bought cakes to her name and that these contain additives and ingredients not found in the ‘superior’ home-baked cakes which she normally champions.

The British Bake Off chief once said,
Only over her body dead,
Would she say shop-bought cakes were fine,
Compared to those that take your time,
To kneed and stir and roll them out,
To make them good or thereabout.

And so it is with some dismay,
That I have read reports today,
That she now has a line of cakes,
For people for whom mixing aches.

She’s cherry bakewells, tarts and scones,
Which, as you know, they are the ones,
That you eat spread with cream and jam,
With sandwiches and tea Assam.

She used to say home-made was best,
Less additives and all the rest,
But if ingredients you check,
You might at that point say ‘Oh heck!’
There’s more in this than meets the eye,
And more than any home-made pie.

Up there is CaCO3,
That’s limestone, ground, to you and me,
Then iron, sorbic acid too,
And things not mentioned hitherto.

Such things are needed, they will say,
To get a lengthy sell-by day,
For otherwise they wouldn’t keep,
And prices might be rather steep.

So when you buy your cake take care,
To read what’s in it if you dare,
And then you really shouldn’t moan,
If it’s not what you’d make at home.

Image – Pixabay