Egg Mayo and Bacon Bits in a White Baguette.

An ode to my favourite hangover cure.

Egg mayo and bacon bits
Hungry lips are licked.
Egg mayo and bacon bits
Perfect accompanied by chips.
Egg mayo and bacon bits
A moment in the mouth, a lifetime on the hips.

It’s Beer O’clock.

Tick tock, tick tock,
It’ll soon be beer o’clock.
A nation of workers sit and wait,
With their minds on imminent escape.
And temporary relief from the rat race,
By getting completely shit faced.

Tick tock, tick tock,
Now at last its beer o’clock.
And at the bar a nation stands,
Glasses clutched in eager hands.
Dry throats now nicely wet,
Wages being quickly spent.

Tick tock, tick tock,
It’s now well after beer o’clock.
And the pubs now stand empty,
Bereft of the boozing gentry.
Who are staggering to the chip shop,
As it’s now kebab o’clock.

Once upon a time there was a chip shop….


Once upon a time there was a chip shop,
Where we used to eat a meal or two.
Remember how we scoffed away the hours,
And dreamed of all the things that we could chew.

Those were the meals my friend,
We thought they’d never end,
We’d eat and drink forever and a day.
We’d eat the food we choose,
Our trousers always loose,
Those were the meals, oh yes those were the meals.

Then middle age crept up on us,
We lost our fast metabolism on the way.
If by chance I’d see you in the chip shop,
We’d smile at one another and say.

That was the food my friend,
The fry ups that never end,
We’d eat pure lard forever and a day.
We’d eat the grease we choose,
And wash it down with booze,
That was the food, oh yes that was the food.

Just tonight I stood before the mirror,
None of my old clothes did fit me.
In the glass I saw a strange reflection,
Was that balding fat man really me ?

That was the grub my friend,
The kebabs that never end,
We’d eat at least one for every meal a day.
We’d drink the chilli sauce,
For our dessert course,
And next day never go too far from the loo.

At weight watchers I hear familiar laughter,
As the scales loudly speak my weight.
Oh my friend we’re older but no thinner,
As I still eat everything that’s on my plate.

There goes my waistline my friend,
And now I cannot bend,
And it’s a strain to try to lace my shoes.
I can’t now see my feet,
As I waddle down the street,
There goes my waistline it won’t be back soon.

My Town

Everyone you see smokes.
So everyone also chokes.
Swearing is the new pollution,
Chips one of your five a day contributions.
Unfinished developments are fenced off,
Building of new houses has stopped.
Pound stores and take aways spread
Like weeds in neglected civic flower beds.
Every betting shop has children outside,
Every off licence has children inside.