Paw Prints at Large

A pious young lady of Trinity
Was taking a degree in divinity.
But she went on the town
With a fellow named Brown
And unfortunately lost her lecture notes.

So (you have to start a sentence with ‘so’, it’s the law) we’ve finally put our paws in the twittersphere. It’s great fun, not having a clue what you’re doing, but I rather think it’s a case of lighting the blue touch paper and retiring.

Today I have five followers. Five! How did I get them? I haven’t a clue. I never actually told anyone that I am now @perdisma (she says proudly) but nonetheless there they are. Tomorrow I expect to have one – and that’s just a company trying to advertise its parcel delivery service on my twitterfeed. Good luck with that. The other four will have taken to the hills because I dared to use the B word (hint: it’s got an x in it) coupled with the word yay. What was I thinking?

Watch this space for more news from the trenches…

There’s some noise, and a sly, noxious smell.
Someone’s let off a trump, can’t you tell?
The voting has ended
And what’s done can’t be mended
So it’s ‘Goodbye, and see you in hell.’

A couple from St Pierre La Mer
Embarked on a torrid affair.
The pair, well-endowed,
Attracted a crowd
When doing the deed en plein air.

In France what you mustn’t be doing
Is mixing your words when you’re wooing.
Un baiser is a kiss –
Every schoolchild knows this –
But if you baise you’re not kissing, you’re screwing

To inform, educate, entertain:
The BBC’s role was made plain.
But there’s been a take-over
By programmes on make-over
In fashion, décor and terrain.

A frisky young fellow from Lille
His girl friend’s tétons tried to feel.
She told him: ‘Michel
Snogging’s all very well
But if you go any further I’ll squeal.’

A burly young fellow named Thierry
Went to a fancy dress ball as a fairy.
His date said: ‘Mon chou,
That look isn’t you –
In fact, it’s decidedly scary.’

The BBC’s losing its wits
And the viewers are all having fits
Since it opted to take off
The programme called Bake-Off
And consign poor Top Gear to the pits.

We all stood in line for a flu jab
And the nurse said: ‘We’re trialling a new jab.
It may work, it may not –
We don’t know what we’ve got –
But we’re hoping to hell it’s the true jab.’