Monthly Archives: April 2017

Its getting tough to watch re-runs when reality quashes fantasy. ‘Bye Erin.

Little Girl Lost.

Erin Moran has passed away,
Not had happy days for many a day,
From the heady heights of Tinsel Town
Going in an Indiana motel is a sad come down.

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Fox loses another friend. It’s almost as if somethings not quite right at the white noise station.

Cut Off In His Prime.

It’s goodbye to Mister O’Reilly,
How it pains him to be laid off,
The guy Fox ranked and paid so highly
Finds he, not those dames have been paid off.

Ask Bill how those base bitchy allegations hurt,
So many nasty ladies, so much scandalous talk,
All casting poor red-blooded Willy as a pervert,
Getting their claws into Foxes cock of the walk.

Losing those millions he was set to accrue
Is bound to stick painfully in his craw,
But worse, in his misogynistic view
Is ladies showing HIM the door.

Not quite knockin’ on Heavens door…

Chilly Reception.

The Jehovah’s witness have been banned
From President Putins cold soulless land,
No more seeing some sober suited group troop
Faithfully from door to door and stoop to stoop.

No more getting a dazzling smile and colourful tract-
The first lacking sincerity, the second, in fact,
Some think its an attack on the right to Belief,
For my ungodly family back East its a blessed relief.

The master communicator strikes again!

Sean Spicer illuminates another Press Conference with his usual skill and aplomb. Chemical weapons and a faulty memory about Hitlers history causes upset, and on Passover too. Perhaps he’s talked himself out of a job?

A Thinkless Task.

Poor hapless Sean must rue
His hopeless bumbling interview
As he babbled on the feeling grew
That he was showing how little he knew.

When he thinks it through-
Now there’s a novel thing to do-
He may think an apology is overdue,
But who expects Sean to think and talk too?

Past unfettered lips unwise words flew,
What a pity so few would prove to be true,
Someone get Sean a history of World War Two;
By his own words he has proved he hasn’t a clue.

United Airlines in disarray. Whoever said ‘All publicity is good publicity?’ An abject lesson in getting it wrong, and all recorded, for the record.

Wing Ding.

I sat down, pulled my belt tight
And waited for the plane to alight,
As the attendant surveyed the packed aisle
A frown of concern replaced her faux smile.

It appeared there had been an oversight,
Somehow, someone had overbooked the flight
And United had to find room for four of their crew.
Does bumping off fare paying customers seem fair to you?

NOW Uniteds CEO is being most contrite,
His host of Lawyers long to put this wrong right,
One trip from Chicago, Illinois to Louisville, Kentucky
Will cost him a billion bucks and his pension- If he’s lucky.

Finding a winner is becoming a murky affair.

Mad And Destructive Streak.

Donald is done with all those diplomatic talks,
So he throws up his arms- and his Tomahawks,
Fifty-nine missiles rocket through the hot Syrian air-
Now good buddy Vladimir’s face wears an angry red glare.

Putin is looking puzzled and pained,
Relations with Don are apt to be strained,
They’ll find its tricky building fences
Since someone’s taken leave of his senses.

The Kremlin comes up with all manner of crazy things,
Put Don in charge and Putin would pull the strings?
Vladimir, I fear you have an angry tiger by the tail,
Let’s pray cool heads- and the world- will prevail.