Marxist. Trade Unionist. Socialist-feminist. Author. Poet. Speaker. Tutor. RMT ex-Exec. Workers' Liberty. Autie. Bi. PUFC fan.
(Ode to Lee Anderson)
When I said I hated men dressed in pink
And that women should be tied to the kitchen sink
I wasn’t being a prat, a bigot or fink
I was simply saying what most people think
Mental health sufferers belong in the clink
That’s what our forefathers, bless them, would think
They’re marching off to war on woke,
to fan the flames, to fuel and stoke
a cooked-up culture conflagration,
Who knew
that new need not actually mean new?
It might mean refurbished or extended,
repurposed or pretended?
Who knew?
Who'd have thought it,
that forty need not actually mean forty?
That's rather naughty
It ought to, surely?
I'd have thought
Richard Sharp
Likes to whinge and to carp
That report was bad luck
Now off he can fuck
Long long time ago, I can still remember
How winter snow would make me smile
And I knew when I had my chance
We’d come inside to warm and dance
And maybe we'd be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every bill that they delivered
Bad news on the mat
How the feck can I pay that?
There was I, a few minutes ago, minding my own business, awaiting the announcement of my platform at King's Cross, when over the PA came the voice of Michael Portillo wishing the station a happy birthday.
So, might I just point out that ...
===
Grant Shapps
He talks and he craps
But often gets confused
About which end he's used
There once was a Tory, his name is Neil Parish
Attracted to tractors in "a moment of madness"
And now Mrs P is extremely embarrassed
A big-wheeled beauty with a powerful horn
Harvesting hot stuff down in the corn
Who wouldn't love agricultural porn?
Bring your own booze
Bring your own excitement
Bring your own rules
Bring your own entitlement
Bring your own germs
Bring your own immunity
Bring your own free pass
to party with impunity