Good Dog Nigel

Arf, Arf, he goes, a merry sight
Our little hairy friend
Arf, Arf, upon the lampost bright
Arfing round the bend.
Nice dog! Goo boy,
Waggie tail and beg,
Clever Nigel, jump for joy
Because we are putting you to sleep at three of the clock, Nigel.

Sad Michael

"There was no reason for Michael to be sad that morning, (the little wretch): everyone liked him, (the scab). He'd had a hard day's night that day, for Michael was a Cocky Watchtower. His wife Bernie, who was well controlled, had wrabbed his norman lunch but he was still sad. It was strange for a man who have everything and a wife to boot. At 4 o'clock when his fire was burking bridelly a Poleaseman had clubbed in to parse the time around. 'Goddeven Michael,' the Poleaseman speeg, but Michael did not answer for he was debb and duff and could not speeg . . ."

No Flies On Frank

There were no flies on Frank that morning - after all why not? He was a responsible citizen with a wife and child, waasn't he? It was a typical Frank morning and with an agility that defies description he leapt into the bathroom onto the scales. To his great harold he discovered he was twelve inches more tall heavy! He couldn't believe it and his blood raised to his head, causing a mighty red colouring. 'I carn't not believe this incredible fact of truth about my very body which has not gained fat since mother begat me at childburn. Yea, though I wart through the valet of thy shadowy hut I willfeed no norman. What grate qualmsy hath taken me thus into such a fatty hardbuckle.'

Nicely Nicely Clive

To Clive Barrow it was just an ordinary day nothing unusual or strange about it, everything quite navel, nothing outstandley, just another day but to Roger it was something special, a day amongst days ... a red lettuce day ...

I Sat Belonely

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.

I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wonderous voice.
Puzzly, puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but I have no choice.

'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.

Such sofly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might

'I thought you were a lady',
I giggle, - well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up - and flew away.

Snore Wife and Some Several Dwarts

Once upon upon in a dizney far away - say three hundred year agoal if you like-there lived in a sneaky forest some several dwarts or cretins; all named - Sleezy, Grumpty, Sneeky, Dog, Smirkey, Alice? Derick - and Wimpey. Anyway they all dug about in a diamond mind, which was rich beyond compere. Every day when they came hulme from wirk, they would sing a song - just like ordinary wirkers - the song went something like - 'Yo, ho! Yo, ho! it's off to wirk we go!' - which is silly really considerable they were comeing hulme. (Perhaps ther was slight housework to be do.) One day howitzer they (Dwarts) arrived home, at aprodestant six o'cloth, and who? - who do they find? - but only Snore Wife, asleep in Grumpty's bed. He didn't seem to mine. 'Sambody's been feeding my porrage!' screams Wimpey, who was wearing a light blue pullover. Meanwife in a grand Carstle, not so a mile away, a womand is looging in her daily mirror shouting, 'Mirror mirror on the wall, whom is de fairy in the land.' which doesn't even rhyme. 'Cassandle!' answers the mirror. 'Chirsh O'Malley' studders the womand who appears to be a Queen or a witch or an acorn.

Benjamin Distasteful

Benjaman halted his grave flow of speach and lug off a cigarf he knew where peeky boon! He wrethced overy and berlin all the tootsdes. 'It were all nok a limpcheese then a work ferce bottle. Ai warp a grale regrowth on, withy boorly replenishamatsaty troop, and harlas a wedreally to fight. We're save King of pampices when all the worm here me aid.' I inadvertabably an unobtrusive neyber had looke round and seen a lot of goings off, you know how they are. Anywart, I say get a battlyard pussload, ye scurry navvy, I beseige of all my bogglephart, way with his kind farleny and grevey cawlers. But Benjaman was a rather man for all I cared. I eyed he looking, 'Ben' I creid 'You are a rather man.' He looked at me hardly with a brown trowel. 'I know' he said, 'but I do a steady thirsty.' I were overwhelped with heem grate knowaaaldge, you darn't offer mead and monk with all these nobody, I thought. A man like he shall haff all the bodgy poodles in his hands. 'Curse ye baldy butters, and Ai think its a pritty poreshow when somebottle of my statue has to place yongslave on my deposite.' 'Why - why?' I cribble all tawdry in my best sydneys. To this day I'll never know.