It’s like another land inside the telly!
So far, in every ad I’ve seen for booze,
there’s never been a man with a beer belly
and not a single one of them has moobs.
In Advertland, the roads are always empty.
Nobody in McDonald’s ads is fat,
and everyone in ads for Match is pretty –
in Facebook ads, nobody’s handicapped.
The women trying to lose weight all look healthy
(though some of them shave legs that have no hair)
and when it’s time for them to do their laundry
you’ll find no sign of dirty underwear.
In Advertland, the houses are enormous.
The bathrooms are all spotless (unlike mine) –
except for in the ads for cleaning products,
where women wipe away CGI grime.
Here, constipated ladies dance with yoghurt –
yet never do you see them near a loo!
A ghostly Audrey Hepburn’s eating chocolate,
in Advertland, where nothing shown is true.
There’s one like me in every home –
I’m the little sharp knife.
Compared to other cutlery,
I lead a thrilling life.
I’m not stuck in some old canteen,
I’m not part of a pair.
The dish ran away with the spoon –
but me? Free as the air!
I’ll often come in handy for
what DIY requires –
from acting as a screwdriver,
to stripping ends of wires.
I’ll cut wallpaper down to size
(and wrapping paper too).
I’ll be your letter opener,
prise pebbles from a shoe.
And when you throw me in the sink,
all sticky from my chores,
I’ll lurk below the waterline
pretending that I’m Jaws…
How to feed a vegan –
it needn’t cause a fuss!
It’s easy to remember –
think ‘vegetarian – plus’.
They simply don’t eat animals,
no, not of any sort.
It really isn’t difficult –
it just requires some thought.
Yes, that’s including chicken,
and fish of every kind,
and Quorn (’cause it’s got egg white) –
but soya is just fine.
No things that come from animals –
like eggs and milk and cheese,
or gelatine (that’s made from hoof!)
or honey (made by bees).
And don’t forget the insects
that can hide inside a meal
(for some are used as additives –
beetles in cochineal).
So now you know the basics
about this kind of diet.
It’s healthy, and low-calorie –
perhaps you’d like to try it?
Have you ever sat at that table,
at a wedding? You know the one –
full of people without partners,
with traits nobody wants.
The independent women,
who persist in being single,
are never seated with couples
for fear that they might mingle.
The nun who, even in plain clothes,
exudes a faith too strong,
her chastity embarrassing
to those whose faith has gone.
And the widow who strives to be merry,
invited because she’s a friend
but not really wanted at weddings
for she’s living proof – love always ends.
When I shop at Ann Summers
I don’t slink in, all furtive.
No, I stroll in, nonchalant,
proceed to make my purchase.
But I’ve not been there in a while –
now their bags are less discreet,
and something in the new design
just sends men into heat.
So, don’t shop at Ann Summers
unless you’ve nerves of steel!
That little pink and purple bag
has instant man appeal.
It’s bound to draw attention
(whether you like it or not)
so don’t shop at Ann Summers
if you are easily shocked.
When one guy called “You go, girl!”
I thought “Does he mean me?”
But then another said “Yeah, nice”
and then came number three!
I’m sure I’m almost old enough
to be the young man’s mum –
but that was not deterring him
from checking out my bum!
So, if you shop at Ann Summers,
and you’ll be walking home,
prepare to run the gauntlet of
those high street Romeos.
They’ll think you’re feeling frisky
but – though that may be true –
boys, just because we’re up for it
does not mean it’s with you!
To make things yet more awkward
I was meeting Dad for tea,
and though he is the quiet type
he isn’t that naive.
I’m sure he knows this apple
isn’t from the Apple store –
and no girl likes her daddy
to think that she’s a whore!
So, don’t shop at Ann Summers
unless you’ve balls of brass,
because those constant catcalls
are a right pain in the arse.
No, don’t shop at Ann Summers
without a back-up plan –
a sturdy canvas carrier
to hide your prize from Man!