Standing in the chilly aisle, I’m overwhelmed by cheese
(the sheer amount of choice, I mean – not literally).
There’s Camembert and Wensleydale, Gorgonzola, Brie,
Edam, Gouda, Emmental, Feta and Haloumi.
Cheese in wax, and cheese in oil, cheese in brine and plastic,
rounds and squares and triangles, and strings that look elastic.
All these cheesy choices just take too long for me,
so I’ll play it safe with that old faithful – Cheddar, strength 3.
Author Archives: rumoldbird
Pockets
Pockets on clothes for women –
so rare, they’re mythological
and if by chance you find some,
they’re decorative, not functional.
Now really, what woman, I ask you
wants pockets on buttocks or breasts?
No woman on earth looks better
with odd bulges on her chest.
And so we all carry handbags
then aren’t taken seriously
by men, who refuse to use man-bags,
but who hand over wallets and keys,
weigh us down with phones and gadgets
they can’t be bothered to hold –
despite having plenty of pockets!
Is this how men rule the world?
Consequences
In a world without consequences,
imagine the things you could do…
You could go to a park,
jump all over the grass,
then swim in the pond with the ducks –
or waltz around town
in a fabulous gown,
and kiss the barista in Starbucks.
Try eating a rose!
Abandon all clothes –
or, just go on a date without make-up.
Dare to tell your boss
what to do with their job,
then un-friend a colleague on Facebook.
Finally paint that ‘i’
on a To Let sign,
and whistle at builders you pass.
Take a cheeky chance –
pull down low-hanging pants
to reveal some young feller’s arse!
In a world without consequences,
tell me – what would you do?
Sweet Irony
‘Cadbury’s’ crème eggs –
less cocoa, more bitterness –
such sweet irony.
Fruity
Some days I shouldn’t be allowed
in the fruit and vegetable aisle.
I find myself stroking kiwi fruit
with a really cheeky smile.
I giggle when squeezing a melon,
laugh at bananas, kumquats –
and don’t even get me started on
the blameless butternut squash!
BOGOF
Cashiers look at me as if I’m dumb
when I say “No, thanks” to two-for-one.
They explain it’s buy one, get one free –
but one is quite enough for me.
I know, it sounds like it’s a bargain
but, oh, those sneaky supermarkets
know most folk have no self-control –
if we buy two, we’ll just eat both,
and then trot right back to the store
stocking up on more and more.
And even those who try to wait
are foiled by short ‘use by’ dates
and end up guzzling extra down,
saving money, but piling on pounds.
“Bog off!” I say, to this deviousness –
just sell us what we need, for less.
Boozy Bird
One Christmas morning I went to a friend.
Now, meeting her’s always a pleasure,
But then she offered me Baileys –
And she pours with a generous measure…
She poured me a large one – then a second –
And then an enormous third!
But I felt just fine, till I toddled home
To do battle with – The Bird.
I wrapped up the turkey in tinfoil –
But found that it just wouldn’t fit!
It was slightly too big for my oven,
So I clumsily hacked off a bit.
Then into the oven the turkey went,
Though later, a thought occurred –
I’d forgotten to put the foil back on!
So I had to re-wrap the bird.
It took me a while (my befuddled mind!)
Then “Something smells funny” I thought.
In fact, there was no roast turkey smell –
I’d not turned on the oven at all!
Well, I took the turkey out – again! –
To wait for the oven to heat.
(Like some turkey hokey-cokey –
That’s no way to treat your meat.)
Now, what else had I forgotten?
Oh, yes – the chunk that I’d mangled.
I wrapped that in foil, and I wedged it in
At quite a precarious angle.
By now I felt totally knackered,
And you won’t be surprised to hear
That, due to my booze-induced delays,
Christmas dinner was late that year.
So, on a Christmas morning,
Wine may be fine, for a toast –
But never have Baileys for breakfast
When you’ve got a turkey to roast!
Condiments To The Chef
Welcome to my kitchen,
I’ve just finished cooking tea.
Now, before you reach for condiments,
Can you do one thing for me?
I may not be a master chef
But I’m sure I’m not the worst
So please, for once, I beg of you –
Just taste the damn thing first!
You can drown your meal in vinegar
(I’ve balsamic or malt),
Inundate your plate with gravy,
Sprinkle it with salt,
Pile it up with pickle,
Grind pepper till you sneeze,
Dollop on some salad cream
Or maybe mayonnaise.
You can dab it with Tabasco,
Slather it with butter,
Cover it with ketchup,
Smother it with mustard,
Add any of your sauces
(Lea and Perrins, soy, HP),
I really don’t mind what you use –
Just taste it first – for me?
Cloning Johnny Depp
Scientific breakthroughs
Needn’t lead to Frankenstein.
In fact, there is one project
I’m sure would be worth trying.
If they’ve perfected cloning sheep,
The logical next step
Is cloning something everybody wants –
Like Johnny Depp!
To get more women into science,
This research would be key.
Imagine, enough Depp for all,
For you – and you – and me!
And it’s not just for the ladies
For, whatever your persuasion,
You must admit those cheekbones
Hold a certain fascination
Ignore those who scream, “Ethics!
It’s against all natural laws!”
Funding can (and must) be found
For such a worthy cause.
This world would be more beautiful
With Depps spread far and wide,
And we might start a brand new category
when it comes to the Nobel Prize.
Magazines
Don’t tell me that I’m fat,
then give me recipes for cake.
Don’t tell me which celebrities
I ought to emulate.
Don’t tell me to wear make-up
that gives a ‘natural’ look.
Don’t tell me that I have to read
another chick-lit book.
Don’t tell me ‘be unique’,
then show me this year’s ‘must have’ style.
Don’t tell me about STDs,
then ‘How to drive men wild!’
I’m sick of these mixed messages –
men wouldn’t stand for it.
So, goodbye, women’s magazines –
I won’t miss you one bit.
Ladies Who Don't Have Time For Lunch 