Social Media Meltdowns
Ever said something you've regretted on the internet? Seen somebody make an arse of themselves? Know somebody who posts first and asks questions later? Dob them in to us, the internet police. (We last did this five years ago before Twitter, LinkedIn and Facebook really took off, so now's the time for an update)
Thanks to Benny Blanco from the Bronx for the suggestion
( , Thu 20 Jun 2013, 15:00)
Ever said something you've regretted on the internet? Seen somebody make an arse of themselves? Know somebody who posts first and asks questions later? Dob them in to us, the internet police. (We last did this five years ago before Twitter, LinkedIn and Facebook really took off, so now's the time for an update)
Thanks to Benny Blanco from the Bronx for the suggestion
( , Thu 20 Jun 2013, 15:00)
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Reminds me of one of my own works....
This won awards!
Scream For Your Sausage
Scream for your sausage!
Cry for your pie!
Fight for your Scotch egg!
Be prepared to die.
Stock up your larder
With wares of all kinds,
Save your left-overs -
Your crusts and your rinds,
For Ivor is coming,
That fat Northern beast -
Ivor is coming!
And he wants a Feast.
He wants twenty chickens
Roasted on racks,
With sizzling bacon
Hot on their backs.
He wants a fresh piglet
Gutted and jointed,
With exotic oils
Its pert rump anointed.
He wants a whole herd
- This beggars belief –
Of homosexual heifers
Turned into beef!
He wants a Scotch egg
The size of the moon!
He wants twenty of them -
And NOW, not “soon”!
He wants your bathtubs
Brimming with beer
(There won’t be room
For baby, I fear).
He wants all the cheeses
Ever devised
Gathered before his
Bulging blue eyes.
He wants tubs of lard
Paraded at dawn
By fit Northern lasses
With buttocks of brawn.
He wants... too much,
I hear you all cry -
Tough luck, you bastards,
He’s that kind of guy.
So scream for your sausage -
It won’t do no good,
Because hungry Ivor
Wants ALL YOUR FOOD.
( , Mon 24 Jun 2013, 19:03, 1 reply)
This won awards!
Scream For Your Sausage
Scream for your sausage!
Cry for your pie!
Fight for your Scotch egg!
Be prepared to die.
Stock up your larder
With wares of all kinds,
Save your left-overs -
Your crusts and your rinds,
For Ivor is coming,
That fat Northern beast -
Ivor is coming!
And he wants a Feast.
He wants twenty chickens
Roasted on racks,
With sizzling bacon
Hot on their backs.
He wants a fresh piglet
Gutted and jointed,
With exotic oils
Its pert rump anointed.
He wants a whole herd
- This beggars belief –
Of homosexual heifers
Turned into beef!
He wants a Scotch egg
The size of the moon!
He wants twenty of them -
And NOW, not “soon”!
He wants your bathtubs
Brimming with beer
(There won’t be room
For baby, I fear).
He wants all the cheeses
Ever devised
Gathered before his
Bulging blue eyes.
He wants tubs of lard
Paraded at dawn
By fit Northern lasses
With buttocks of brawn.
He wants... too much,
I hear you all cry -
Tough luck, you bastards,
He’s that kind of guy.
So scream for your sausage -
It won’t do no good,
Because hungry Ivor
Wants ALL YOUR FOOD.
( , Mon 24 Jun 2013, 19:03, 1 reply)
« Go Back | See The Full Thread