Fa – the Green Dragon

A Place for the Odd Musings of an Expat Bristolian

Category Archives: Humor of Sorts

Some funny and some not so funny things I have come accross


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It’s Mueller Time – Let’s all have a beer

It’s Mueller time – now let’s all have a beer.

For those who have the ears to hear
let them draw nigh, the truth is here
After months spent on investigations
Soon we’ll be seeing prosecutions
What will come, subpoenas or indictments at best?
Our justice system will be put to a test.
Flynn has fallen, admitting to guilt
The blind lady’s scales beginning to tilt.
Poor Trumpty thought Sessions would have his back
But recusal unfortunately opened a crack.
The crack has now become a large chasm
Trumpty’s allies and base are starting to spasm
Paul Manafort set for eighty years
Has decided at last to see his way clear
To have A come to Jesus talk with Bob Mueller
Where he can paint a picture that’s fuller.
Trumpty must realize the noose is tightening
The prospect for him must be very frightening.
His pal Giuliani has lost the plot
Has a very strange view of what justice is not
Done nothing wrong, there was no collusion
Fake news is making the awful intrusion
Huckabee sanders has a version of truth.
But Kelly Ann Conway’s goes through the roof.
Papadopoulos also sentenced to prison
Shedding light through the Trumpian prism
Some coffee boy he turned out to be!
For Trumpty’s woes he was the key.
Who’s next on Mueller’s slow ticking clock
Will Ivanka and Jared’s names be on the block?
If their names appear to be next
We can be sure Orangeman is going to be vexed.
He’ll fly off the handle like a witch in heat
Then his thumbs will bash out some very odd tweets.
Both inane and angry and we will all laugh
More than we did when we first saw his quaff.
The world will not rest till we’re done with his brood
Enough of a family that’s greedy and crude.
“No Tickee no Washee” was the laundryman’s cry
But not for his tenants who had Rubles to buy
Expensive condos in Trump Tower pristine
Just bring me your money and I’ll wash it all clean.
Just follow the money is the chant we now hear
It’s Mueller time now – let’s all have a beer!


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Is that the Boogey Man I hear?

Is that the Boogey Man I hear?
Donald Trump’s goose is cooked
Yes, he’s aquiver.
Bob Mueller and his expert team
Are about to send him up the river; *
Not the same river of which he may have sold us down.
Swampland’s incompetent, bigoted racist clown!

Chances are, he’s in Putin’s pocket,
A mental nut in a Soviet socket.
He must be compromised, that, we surmise;
Russian floozies no surprise.
At 71, a braggard supreme
Living the Viagra dream.
Golden showers bring new delights
Peeing through those Moscow nights.
And what of Cohen the man who fixes
Paying off Trumpy’s sexual tricksies.
Adult film stars and Playboy bunnies
How many more are there of those bedded honeys?
To whom he paid campaign cash
Will emerge from out of the Phoenix ash.
Let’s see 35 indictments filed in all
The Donald’s headed for his fall.

What do we hear now of late
that will seal the orange Donald’s fate?
Just Giuliani chanting no collusion
A PR ploy to cause confusion
A bumbling has been, who’s lost his clout
Has no clue what this is about.
Truth is not truth according to him
Make up your facts just on a whim.
Orange man’s aides are starting to turn
Waiting to see; will the Donald burn?
There’s a new book with the title “Fear”
Not at all want the Donald wanted to hear!
Crazy town White House, admin amok.
It seems the staff there do give a damn
By swiping documents to keep us all safe
A diligent few who have not lost their faith.
We are all counting the days to the mid-term elections
And countless Viagras for Donald’s erections.
Ha! What a sad state we find ourselves in.
Let’s all shout impeachment and cause a great din.
Let’s see (again) what will come to pass,
To the time we bid adieu to this horse’s ass.

*A reference to the Hudson River in New York state and the town of Ossining which is the site of Sing-Sing Correctional facility.


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At The Corner

At the corner, just up the street,

is a wonderful place for a wonderful treat.

No other country, no other land,

has this treat which you eat by hand.

That’s right! Your fingers get so greasy,

Try it you’ll like it because it’s easy.

Potatoes peeled and cut into sticks,

and when they’re fried we call them chips.

Cod, Halibut or Plaice and sometimes Sole,

as good as soup but, without the bowl.

We’re talking fish, serious fish.

When battered and fried it’s just delish!.

Flaky mouthfuls of fish so white,

tender and tasty at every bite.

And then we add some things thereto,

pepper and salt and malted brew;

to soak up all the fat they say.

But, actually it’s just another way,

to make this treat taste good for me,

whether it be for my lunch or tea.

I heard they throw new stuff into the frier.

Mars Bars? Ugh, you’re such a liar!

No, it’s true an idea that’s new,

Deep fried dessert, a melted goo.

Ah! no such muck will pass my lips;

Not when I’ve got fish and chips.

Written July 10th, 2000.

 

 


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Who Invented Fish and Chips? (in newspaper)

For the past few weeks I have been digging in my spare time for papers, packed long ago and forgotten for a few years. I did mention some time ago that years ago I had written poetry about Fish and Chips. For those of you who are from the U.K. or have visited the british Isles this will be no mystery. However, for some, this may be new. Fish and Chips used to be a staple throughout the country, until perhaps the advent of Indian “take-out”. Anyway, be that as it may, here is a short piece I found which I wrote on June 10th, 2000.

For the Brits, you may remember advertising for England’s Glory matches.

Who Invented Fish and Chips (in newspaper)

Dr. Foster went to Gloucester

for some matches ran the story.

For a certain strike and steady flame,

he asked for England’s Glory.

But that story’s old folk lore,

it was Fish and Chips he went there for.

So back to Bristol on his horse,

There were no buses then of course (not even late ones).

But, from his quest he was prevented,

because Fish and Chips had not been invented.

So to his spouse he said “Right!”

Let’s make some Fish and Chips tonight.

But how? she said, “what is this dish?”

and “what are chips that go with fish?”

“Just watch this spud” the Doctor cried,

“soon he’ll be peeled and cut and fried”

“And what about the fish, does that not matter?”

“wife get some flour and water and make some batter!”

And with this mix, just like skin,

The dead fish in hot fat learnt how to swim.

The dead fish swam around and round,

until he turned a golden brown.

Too hot to eat, so, until later,

they laid him out on last night’s paper.

The Doctor said said he could not linger,

and began to delve with just a finger.

And just to get some more,

he found it better if he used four.

And Mrs. Foster said “I need some salt,

and soured cider with some malt,

and give me pepper by the peck.

This tastes so good so what the heck?’

So here ends this fishy story.

Fish and Chips were England’s Glory!

But there is a sequel to this ryhme

I’ve pondered it from time to time.

Because, Dr. Foster did not stop there,

he went to Oz (Australia) and invented beer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Believing is not easy unless it’s true

The trouble with most

missionaries is that they

want you to believe

the same as they themselves do.

Believe me it is quite true!


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Not so O.K. Corral

Arizona state.

Once I was in Old Tucson

Saw a great gun fight

Lot of noise but no one died

Not the same in Chicago