Category Archives: Regret

Strange how what is just and right evolves in the modern Trump world. I suppose it must be all a matter of perspective, or do we rely on blind faith? Sweet Jesus, who’s to know?

Above And Beyond.

Lawyer Mike Cohen was, confidentialy, not just a Donald fan,
When it came to private peccadilloes he was Dons Mr Fix-it Man,
But his quietly recording Don’s costly affairs wasn’t part of Don’s plan,
Poor Don, its hard to believe a lawyer  could be so Machiavellian?

To Donald’s defence the Righteous leap-
His learned counsel should his counsel keep.

His year-long tryst with Karen old Donald can richly afford-
Two hundred grand, another Playboy plaything cheaply scored,
On Don carried, the same year Melania had baby Barron on board,
There’s no more damning words of a cheating bastard on record!

Fox TV showers invective on Mike, ‘he’s a deceitful creep’
While Trump treads water in the swamp, so dark and deep.

But twenty years ago you should’ve heard their moralistic mewling
When slick Willy left Monica high and dry by saying they weren’t fooling,
While the twists and turns of Billy-goats oral gymnastics were unspooling;
Funny how now fiery talk of a flesh new Hell for adulterers is cooling?

Now for the Right God fearin’ folk, talk is cheap,
About today’s gross infidelities, not one damn peep.

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Had your fill of FAKE News? Well, remember, you heard it here First.

Stand up Comic.

Funnily I never thought the President was a funny ha ha bloke
But now the laugh’s on me, heh heh, and, seriously, l get the joke,
Hee hee, he’s hysterical, he changes history with one Master stroke-
He gathers the gullible, has a giggle to himself, then simply says ‘I misspoke.’

The President returns home after meeting his Russian counterpart for a private wee tete-a-tete. A private and it would seem, illuminating and revelatory meeting. Try to picture it, as Donald did.

All That Glistens…

The President looked down from the casement
Of his glittering golden GREAT gilded Trump Tower,
The full moons soft saffron suffused glow meant
Don’s Rolex showed he was nearing the witching hour.

Tonight the moon seems full, of dark portent,
Tonight Don is as quiet and shy as a wall-flower,
Tonight its rich unadulterated light has lent
A blood-moon cast to his petulant glower.

Oh, how it pains this peach-of-a-President
To find Captain ‘Merica’s lost his superpower
As well as losing that sweet smell of victory scent,
Since he parleyed with Putin that’s started to sour.

In the FAKE photos Don sees it, and it is all too evident;
‘Neath a fake tan lies a sad whey-faced sack of sh– flour,
How he regrets Moscow and the time there ill-spent,
In the moons glow the tears flow, a regular golden shower.

World cup, England heading home empty handed, but hey, tomorrow’s a bright new day! Isn’t it? Positively.

No Direction Home.

The England party struck boldly forth
To a knees-up in Putin’s welcoming North,
Supporters hopes, then expectations increased
As they watch another unexpected sun rise in the East.

After England’s semi-disappointment they’re heading South
Going from up for the cup to looking down in the mouth,
Even as the sun sinks and Englands high hopes go West
Fourth place seems strangely better than second best.

England, so close in the World Cup but bowing out again. Going home. Ah well, home is where the heartbreak is.

The Lion Weeps Tonight.

Our brave English boys continue to astound,
Gareth’s guys have barely put a foot wrong,
So I’ve backed Britain, plonked down my last pound,
I’m flying off to Russia, to join that joyous throng-
Praying God or Aeroflot get me safely to the ground.

““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““

Silent in Moscow’s sombre departure lounge I’m found,
About me England fans faces are gravely long,
From a drunken fellow traveler comes a sorry sound,
The hollow mocking chorus of that ‘Three Lions’ song;
He’s coming home by baggage bay, or gagged and bound.

Roseanne, late night entertainer, lacking just a touch of social grace.

Whacked On Ambien. (Apologies To John Mellencamp.)

Here’s a little ditty about tact and Roseanne,
‘Bout how she twitted her career right down the can,
Of how high she rated, and of how she’s fallen so far,
How now neither ABC nor her agent want a bar of Ms. Barr.

What damage to her ‘good name’ Roseanne is wreaking,
(Though her joke is shared by a few, conservatively speaking,)
Now she blames sleep deprivation and Ambien for her faux pas-
But it’s her own witterings on Twitter that launched this falling star.

Diplomacy 101. Careering towards a deal with North Korea. Yeah, right.

Round And Round, Round After Round.

Don wants to meet with Kim
And Kim wants to meet with him,
They plan to meet up in Singapore
Unless the plan proves to have a flaw.

With two massive egos in one place
What a conundrum they both face,
Which one of ’em will first blink?
Which one of ’em, do you think?

With this meeting of the minds
It’s fair to say it does take all kinds,
Now their meeting is off, then it’s on;
What party poopers are Kim and Don.

As warm relationships continue to sour,
Atmosphere’s cooling, hour by hour
‘Nobel’s resounding, like a bad joke
As our high hopes go up in smoke.