my stuff
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
potty about poetry
Right. This is going to be quick because I've been sitting in this office all day on my own in a steaming PMT induced rage, with er..nothing to rage about. So I have to get out of here, but I need YOU to help me please.
If you can be arsed.
I've got this Burns Supper thing on Saturday and I'm really looking forward to it (if not simply because it will break the detox we've been on since, ahem, Monday) but there's a bit of a poetry element to the evening - and I don't know if you know it, but I'm no poet (hardy har har).
Basically, we've all to bring some poems along (not written by ourselves, thankfully) and yes, of course there's the obligatory Robert Burns stuff which most people will roll out no doubt (and quite rightly so, it being a Burns Supper), but the last drunken words uttered to me about it were 'don't just bring fucking Burns, bring something with a bit more oomph'.
Hmmm.
So, I've got an ancient Spike Milligan poetry book that made me and my mum cackle like oafs when I was a kid - his poems on goblins actually and I am definitely going to roll a few of them out but otherwise...we're stumped.
I need witty poems, short ones preferably that will make all of my friends think I'm hilariously funny and well read.
Any ideas? NOTHING slushy in any way, something with a bit of well, oomph I suppose.
Whatever the fuck that means.
Lovely. Of course, any ideas you give me I will look into and thank you copiously, whilst taking on the idea as my very own...
And for all you crackingly lovely people that have left me notes to my last 2 entries - I'm sorry if I've not got back to you, I've been busy supressing the raging need to bang my head off a wall or grab someone round the throat, or generally wallow in my PMT induced pity/anger/incohesiveness (is that a word? see?).
Raaar. Hear me roar. And not make any sense.
Help. Please.
5:23 pm - 25 January 2006
