Fancy Meeting You Here
A conversation between two items (not a monologue by one) in the same shopping-basket served only to suggest that most of you now shop via the Internet or that your purchases are so heavily over-packaged as to be inaudible to one another. One regular contributor described the task as diabolical, while several others have obviously spent the last three months washing their hair or tidying their sock drawers. Of the friends pressed into emergency service by the Editor all but Leo Vincent and Honoria Scroope claimed urgent business elsewhere and are now refusing to reply to my emailed pleas for further last-minute help.
For the next Issue the Competition will return to, hopefully, more popular ground. In the meantime, step forward the pick of your disappointingly uncommunicative purchases :--
You’re nuts, said the crackers.
You’re crackers, said the nuts.
You’ll get eaten, said the crackers.
You’ll get pulled, said the nuts.
Happy Christmas, said the crackers.
Not for us, said the nuts.
And the people? said the crackers.
Nuts and crackers! said the nuts.
And later? said the crackers.
Hung over,! said the nuts.
Serve them right, said the crackers.
Precisely! said the nuts.
Well, hello, said a deep-frozen turkey
to a box with its label concealed
by a smear which smelled just a bit rancid
and a big blob of something congealed.
This lady’s just bought me at Asda,
said the turkey. I’m frozen rock solid
and she’s taking me home to a party
where she says I’ll be feted and Bolly’d.
She’s promised me stardom -- and gravy --
and multiple rounds of applause
once she’s warmed up my breast and my drumsticks
my giblets, my wishbone and claws
and even the rude Parson’s Nosepiece
which many a diner deplores.
But, where are YOU due to spend Christmas?
Said the box, which held Paxo, Up yours!
Said the bottle of gin, at the top of the list,
To the bottle of Coke, just below,
"I fear, if I'm right, there'll be fireworks tonight --
They're having a shindig, you know."
"Good grief!" cried the Coke. "This spells trouble;
"He's going to get crocko, for sure.
He'll swill till your gin starts to ooze from his skin,
And behave like a bibulous boor."
"In the meantime," the gin said, "we know that
His wife will be sober as war;
For unlike the bloke, she will drink just your Coke.
Watch out when that mouth starts to roar!"
The Coke replied " 'Twill be a party
Attendees will rather have missed.
But hey -- nice to chat -- a tip of the hat,
And I'll see you next week on the list."
A middle aged lady would shop at the mart
And load all her groceries into a cart.
And then in the basket, she’d drop with a thud
Some Dom Perignon, and a twelve - pack of Bud.
“Just what in the world are you doing in here ?”
Asked the vintage champagne of the carton of beer.
“I’m quite proletarian, humble and meek;
And swilled as they both watch the Game of the Week
Each Saturday night, while in front of the tube.
This lady is nice, but her husband’s a boob.
Oh, let me know why were you bought by this dame.
Is this lady pursuing some different game?”
“I’m stashed in the cupboard,” said Dom Perignon
“Til late on those nights when her hubby is gone;
When, in comes this guy she’s been seeing all summer;
A horny young fellow who serves as her plumber.”