Category Archives: Appetites

Barnaby Joyce is a true National treasure, a rare and engaging man of the land. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. But baby, this boy ain’t ever going to be voted ‘Father of the Year.’

Talking Into His Hat.

Privately Barnaby and Vikki do make a pretty pair;
Publicly Barnaby brazenly faces the public glare,
His amorous amoral view he is happy to share-
As a politician he wonders why his public should care
About his peccadilloes when they’re his private affair?


Another morning of waking up with that dawning feeling you did something last night you now regret. (Thanks for the invite, Mike.)

No Body Likes A Lycanthrope.

What’s a poor werewolf to do
When his world and the moon turns blue?
As in this mind the lunacy surges
And the brain is beset by unsavoury urges?

I can’t help but prowl the night
And hope my bark’s worse than my bite,
But to my nature I’ve been true
And clearly bitten off more than I can chew.

This rare blood moon has ramped up my compulsion
And ‘neath its light I’m filled with revulsion,
When it comes to regrets, quite Frankly, I have a few,
Its an issue, like this leg tissue, I’m working through

If I’m ever caught I’ll be Wormwoods bound
Or perhaps, more humanly, the Battersea pound?
My beastly hair-raising episodes I do deeply rue
So I’m keep ’em tightly leashed for a week -or two.

The President is the grateful recipient of the kind of check he not only likes but fully endorses.

Fit As A Fiddle.

Don’s taken his Medical and he has passed
Despite his penchant for eating his food fast,
He thinks he cuts a, if not fine, an imposing figure
Which he’s assiduosly working at making even bigger.

His trusted Doctor says Don is doing GreaT,
He’s given his grateful President a clean slate,
Don fairly flew through a test specifically designed
For a President possessing his particular state of mind.

All the Doc asks is for Don to take more exercise-
Forgo his nightly regime of stretching for french fries-
Normally Don wouldn’t pay heed to a White House minion
But one thing Donald doesn’t need is a damn second opinion.

No Doctors orders for Don when he takes to his bed,
He retains his healthy appetite for ordering in instead,
There’s nothing that makes another sub-par day complete
Than a tasty treat of fried chicken, followed by a greasy tweet.


On Christmas Eve we stepped out in anticipation of fine fare
Hot foot to Scallies on a chill still Stockbridge night,
We hied along at a fair old clip, anticipation in the air
With red noses and white faces the inn was a warm and welcome sight.

There we raised our glasses, said our cheers,
It was grand to have our far flung family together,
Who’s to know what’s held in the coming years?
Let’s now enjoy the fruits of the fair weather.

We toasted one, we toasted all,
We were very toasty, I recall,
When good cheer becomes hard to constrain
How easy it becomes to say ‘same again’.

We left latish, wife clinging to my arm, tightly,
Some blurry photos show these magic moments preserved;
Pity the shaky images don’t show Comely Bank Road, weaving slightly-
Proof positive that warm Scotch hospitality has been well served.

One for the kids on Halloween. Put the goodies out by the gate with this note, and it kinda worked. We weren’t picked completely clean.

Just A Bit Of A Bite, Please.

If you come here to trick or treat
We’ve an abundance of treats to eat,
But greedy ghosts and ghouls beware;
Don’t take more than your fair share.

Should you fill your goody bag to the brim
You may find your sunny smile turning grim.

Eating our entire supply of Kool Mints- grossly fulfilling,
But losing a filling on Halloween- painfully chilling,
So if you find all these sweets impossible to resist
Don’t blame us when you visit the dentist

When he walked through the door; In the heat of the moment we all make accommodations to base needs. Modern love, eh?

Something Special.

From across the crowded room
Their eyes met and he just knew
That this was The One to whom
His wishes must be relayed to.

He could only stop and stare,
He felt the longing, the desire,
For something so precious and rare
He’d risk the flames of Hell fire.

She suspected it was her dress
That had drawn his attention;
Nevertheless she had to confess
That was expressly the intention.

He stumbled for the words to say
Yet she did not mind him deliberating,
He might be taking a year and a day
But she stood, smiling, waiting.

Tremulously he opened his mouth,
Wordlessly he closed it again,
Confidence not so much going South
As going down the drain.

His eyes wouldn’t meet hers at all,
He tried to speak but his tongue didn’t obey,
He peered past her, at the wall
But she knew she just couldn’t walk away…

After an eternity, with stumbling voice
He spoke low, with slow deliberation,
She was delighted he’d made his choice
Though not by his mumbling conversation.

His words seemed to catch in his throat,
Yet sometimes silence can say so much,
So he wrote her a heartfelt note
And her hand trembled at his touch.

His missive written oh-so-sweetly
Was a simple but impassioned request,
She read it, and time stopped completely
As she crushed the parchment to her breast.

She gazed up at his expectant face,
His hopes, his wants could not be writ clearer,
She had waited long, with maidenly grace,
Now, smilingly she bade him to come nearer.

In his eyes she could see his yearning,
His pleasure she did not want to ignore,
And with fair cheeks hotly burning
She suggested something more…

Tho’ in the rowdy room no-one could hear
This was neither time nor place for idle chat,
When she leaned over he boldly cupped… her ear-
Said ‘Yep’ when she mouthed ‘Extra fries with that?’