I have a little Satnav
It sits there in my car
A Satnav is a driver's friend
It tells you where you are
I have a little Satnav
I've had it all my life
It does more than the normal one
My Satnav is my wife
It gives me full instructions
On exactly how to drive
"It's thirty miles an hour" it says
"And you're doing thirty five"
It tells me when to stop and start
And when to use the brake
And tells me that it's never ever
Safe to overtake
It tells me when a light is red
And when it goes to green
It seems to know instinctively
Just when to intervene
It lists the vehicles just in front
It lists those to the rear
And taking this into account
It specifies my gear
I'm sure no other driver
Has so helpful a device
For when we leave and lock the car
It still gives its advice
It fills me up with counselling
Each journey's pretty fraught
So why don't I exchange it
And get a quieter sort?
Ah well, you see, it cleans the house
Makes sure I'm properly fed
It washes all my shirts and things
And - keeps me warm in bed!
I guess this is must be for limited distribution :-)
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Excellent! But in the spirit of equality, do one that pokes a bit of fun at blokes. :-)
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>> Excellent! But in the spirit of equality, do one that pokes a bit of fun
>> at blokes. :-)
>>
It does, she thinks he is listening. :-)
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>> Excellent! But in the spirit of equality, do one that pokes a bit of fun at blokes. :-)
>>
Sorry I am only the messenger not the author but it seemed too good not to share with the forum.
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Can't swear that I haven't posted this charming polemic before, apologies if I have. Alas, it verges on the misogynistic...
The glass of beer
The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there
Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer:
May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair
And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year.
That parboiled imp, with the hardest jaw you will see
On virtue's path, and a voice that would rasp the dead,
Came roaring and raging the minute she looked at me,
And threw me out of the house on the back of my head.
If I asked her master he'd give me a cask a day;
But she with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange!
May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten and may
The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange.
James Stephens
(possibly from the Irish of David O’Bruaidar)
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Sat Nav ditty - Londoner
