Monday, 24 December 2012

A Christmouse Tale

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the state,
Not a worker was working; no, not for that rate.
But stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
‘Cos it’s cruel for the skivers to have cupboards so bare.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of paedophiles danced in their heads.
And blokes from the seventies, mostly with beards,
Shredded their hard drives and shivered with fear.

Up from the Lords there arose such a clatter,
Lord Baron Von Prescott got fatter and fatter.
His Police and Crime gravy train gone like a flash,
He slunk back to Pauline who kept all their cash. 

The reflection of neon on the rain-sodden street
Gave a sparkle to Bobbies on Downing Street beat,
“Fuck off you plebs!” said the naughty Chief Whip,
But as soon as he’d said it, his career did unzip.

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
This gay marriage lark is so hard to take serious,
Why Dave even bothered is what I find mysterious.

The Queen was well feted this Jubilee Year
And our runners and jumpers and cyclists made clear 
That cheating with drugs like Lance Armstrong was wrong 
But Korean Psy’s Gangnam stole the show with his song.

One thing not short was a year-long inquiry, 
With Leveson imposing on famous folks diaries. 
The outcome was certain, it’s said the press lied. 
And Ed Milibands response? “An inquiry!” he cried. 

So here we all are on this new Christmas Eve,
The politics behind us and all given leave.
To get pissed and make merry and not give a fuck 
About who believes what and Gawd ‘elp us, good luck!

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