Sunday, April 27, 2008

Bob Wolf

And thus it was
Bob found a friend
Someone to talk to as they strode
For such a journey can be lonely
And as they walked they talked of black snow
They spoke of the cheap hotel room
And the tin trumpet used as a po

The moon was high
The stars were out
A shadow fell across the sky
Bob woke and felt a shiny tin thing
Poking in his thigh

The wind it whistled through the gaps
It whistled through the eaves
It whistled through the windows
And through the leafless trees
It whistled far and wide
It whistled more and more
But most of all it whistled
I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles
Through the keyhole in the door

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Wasp Terror!

Giant killer wasps are the new scourge of the gardener. They come from the continent where they broke free from an experimental research facilty run by some mad Swiss scientists trying to cross hornets with scorpions. They are very much attracted to skimpy bathing costumes so gardeners are advised with wear shapeless cardigans and reinforced trousers tucked into diving boots.