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Pea and Honey Recipes
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I Eat My Peas With Honey
And tales of derring-do.
Four lines, they can be rhyming
(That's Glow Worms to me and you).
Ending line is as usual.
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And shout out 'Flippin' Eck!' Bad line, Softers. What's that fat-lipped looney got to do with anything on here? Maybe she's one of your fantasies, but she isn't mine!
I wish that Angie's luscious lips
Were planted on my cheek
Or perhaps in other places
That make my legs go weak.
I wish I'd eaten rather less
Of Auntie's rhubarb crumble
It sits inside me like a stone
I can hear my innards rumble
Would you book me an interview?
My current job is boring
I sit among the grey-faced throng
But long to break my mooring.
[R,T,R] Oooh... touching. I actually *do* have an interview on Friday...
I wish that I had chicken soup
Instead of orange squash
But then this straw would be no good (pen) Go for it.
Unless it's cold chicken Borscht
We hope you pass the interview
And make a great impression
You should avoid your Clement Freud
It gives us all depression
If I had 14 fingers
(More than I really need)
I'd be a great guitarist
A dexterous one indeed
If I were in the cabinet
Blair's, or a wardrobe too
I'd surely be kept in the dark
And like mushrooms, fed on poo [irach] a bit of shoehorn required to make that line fit and make sense there, donchoo think? Otherwise, onwards and upwards chaps. Keep together. A-one, A-two, A-one-two-three-four
I wish I was a petrol gauge
That told misleading tales
Like five instead of fifteen quid
A way of boosting sales. By volume, anyway. Two sorts of petrol gauge here.
I wish that pen will tell us
A story that is true
That's nothing like her normal brand
I'd duck if I were you.
I laughed...
I wish I was a Liar
And my nose was five yards long
I'd poke it up Lord Archer's bum
'Cos he says it doesn't pong But we all know about him, don't we boys and girls?
I wish I had a wishing well
I'd drop coins in it an hope
Hrmph!
Tuj - I wish I had a wishing well
Software - I'd drop coins in it and hope
And if my wish did not come true
I'd throw tantrums and mope
I wish I wasn't here right now
I'd rather be in Derry
And I wish I wasn't Tom the cat
'Cos he's from County Kerry
I wish I was a barnacle
Adhering to the bottom
And when they came to scrape me off
I'd shout and scream, God rot 'em.
I wish I were an ocelot
I'd slink around my prey - [Am loving the last two - kudos all round]
I'd sleep in trees - I'd doss a lot Wossa kudo? Is it like a podume?
That's how I'd pass my day
I wish I were a kinkajou
Dweeling in the trees [Rosie] Japanese ideal based on the inherent idea of podumes without the physical objects themselves
My dweel would scatter down to earth
And make capybaras sneeze
Oh, dweel
While dweeling round the whipple tree
Parailing all I'd wotten (Tuj) Ah!
I groiled a nupthuck's pack o' three
Which craulked me something rotten :-(
[R, R, K, C] I'm reminded of Kandra Woods, a game of Jabberwockian verse I've only encountered as part of the currently dormant* Furcation Game but a full version of which took place at MCiOS (also currently dormant**). Doesn't meant I shouldn't have checked my spelling though :P

* a bit hopeful: approaching 1000 days since the last move!
** hopefully dormant on a far, far lesser magnitude
Shall we continue in the same vein for a while?
I wish I were an actroblub
Or knew just what one was
[IS,P] Hmmph .. don't wanna play, eh? NOW what do I do? Carry on regardless Jabber-stylee [as Kim suggested] or attempt to follow your lead? Friday mornings are simply not designed for such decisions :-)
[Chalks] I'd argue that this one could be continued with an attempt to define an actroblub in the Jabba style.
[Ispers] Good argument :-)
I wish I were an actroblub
Or knew just what one was
My quoil stope seems to fit the bill
I'm absolutely pos.
The quirly bims of Ishtaru
Upon the city wall
Their ush-hahas all vixy blue (ISP) There y' are - it's a quoil stope. Say no more. But for the "t" it could be the kids next door - Extreme Crying.
I'd love to paint them all [Chalks] Ispers? Lovely!
Of all the strogs in London
And Witney Scrotum too © Peter Tinniswood, I have to admit.
The Glob, of Hurley Pustulae
looks most of all like you.
The plimp-kneed zilk of Trescoreen
Whom some may july april
Will never gretch the flommits of
Gremlits naar the burbling rill
'Tis time, methinks, to discourse
'pon brassicas and Georges
Legumes and tubers
Pah! wrong scan

Kim - 'Tis time, methinks, to discourse
Irouléguy - 'pon brassicas and Georges
Software - Let's consider legumes too

and sounds of Victor Borge's
*sssssssswish pop*
I like the old tradition
Of rhyme that scans with sense
As for all this modern stuff,
'Twill be banished hence.
I wish I were clairvoyant
For I'd like to foresee
Which witches might be buoyant
And which we'd drown with glee.
I wish I were a hampster
Or a furry hamster too
Or a furry, furry hamster
And hampster coloured too
I wish I wore a witch's watch
Upon my gnarlèd wrist
My timings I would never botch
Appointments never missed
I wish I had a second head
So no need of forked tongue
As such, I've just a second hand
And also a third lung
I wish I were a sewer pipe
A-shifting Mersey trout
My belches, feculently ripe,
Would noxious vapours spout
I wish I were a music box [R,S,R,i] Bizarrely delightful!
So easy to wind up
Thus people would oft take me
For a playful singing pup. - sorry - I posted just to get rid of the darn thing. Not the easiest line to follow, Monsieur Softers, am wondering if you had a final line in mind when you posted?
I wish I weren't an England fan
It's getting somewhat bland
Whether soccer, cricket, rugby
So best stick head in sand.
I wish I were an Irish man
I'd have the name O'Reilly
And cheer the boys at Croker Park
Because I'm really smiley :-)
I want to have a raison d'étre
But sadly can't speak French;
Instead, I'll eat this raisin bread
Je mange, donc je suis wench.
I wish that I could sprachen Deutsch
And read Immanuel Kant
Es wäre gut, and would bear fruit
And like Hitler I would rant
Я не говорю по-русски - that's 'ya nye gavaryou pa russkie' (I don't speak russian)
And have never wanted to
Except when calling up a Huskie
For a bit of how-de-do
I wish I were an isobar
Behind Susan Powell's back
I'd pluck a string on my guitar
Then give her bum a whack
I wish I were a bandicoot
(a bonzer Aussie mammal)
I'd live inside a handy boot
And coat it with enamel moving along...
I wish I were a roundabout
In scenic Swindon Town
I'd be adorned with traffic lights
And make the drivers frown
I wish I'd find a dodo bird
And teach it how to fly
Alas, such thoughts are quite absurd
Can't find one -- wonder why?
I wish I were a traffic cop
I'd stand right in the road
Gesticulating wildly at
Your girlfriend's outsize load
I wish I were a toothbrush
And you were my false teeth
I'd brush up against you gently
In Morningside or Leith
I have no need for silicone
I'm all up-front, you see
My hair and teeth are still my own
And my feet I still can seeThere you go again, Chalks, making us boys all excited ;o)
If I had a ham sandwich
I'd throw away my Spam
And with a ripe tomato
Choke that bastard Sam-I-am. What an irritating sod.
I wish I had some lemonade
For I am truly parched
I'd drink it mixed with English beer
To keep my top lip starched
I wish I had some creme brulée
And here's the reason why;
I love to crack the skin on top
It's crispier than pie
I wish I had a napkin now
Because I've spilt my milk - Tuj First Line Takeover eh?
There's no use crying over it
I am not of that ilk Limited opportunities there, Chalks
I wish I were a footballer Keeping Tuj at bay .....
Who scored a winning goal
I'd slide ten yards upon my knees
And then whip out my pole I'll get me coat.
I wish I wasn't always first Just seems to keep happening...
One could always miss a turn
But MC5 is addictive
And I am slow to learn
There, can't be my go now.
I wish I were a magistrate
Then yobs I'd really hammer
I'd put them all in clink for eight
In the Sing-Sing slammer
I wish I were a biscuit tin *sigh*
And you a custard cream
Within I would enclose you
In my snack housing scheme.
I wish I were a piece of cake
I'm easy, will that do?
But do take care, for I've got nuts
And could taste salty, too best just to spit.
I wish I were a sock puppet
Like Sooty, Sweep, or Soo
I'd sock it to 'em Muppets
And Punch and Judy too
I wish I were a tuba
Of highly polished brass
Eighteen feet of convolution
Designed to play 'Whispering Grass' Ladies & Gentlemen Mr. Don Estelle. Don't all leave at once.
I wish I were a raindrop
Falling on your nose
I'd make a splash and trickle
Like dew upon a rose
I wish today was Saturday
And that this month was June
The year was nineteen fifty-two Get out of that, y' buggers. :-)
Tonight there's a half moon only if it's the 14th though
I wish it were the fourteenth day
Of my two-week detox
I'd celebrate the standard way:
Oh, what a paradox!
I wish I was a lemon rind
Fruity, empty, yellow
Like Bognor on an April day
Where old farts rant and bellow.
[i;D;IS,P!;R] Splendid
I wish I were a German car
Assembled in Bavaria
Mein engine would be wunderbar
Mein driver's seat is chairier.
Di-methyl-phenyl-benzoate
Oops...
Di-methyl-phenyl-benzoate
Is a curious ester
Its use is as yet inchoate Come on, Raak, what are the positions of the bloody methyl groups, 3,5 or 2,4? This recipe cannot be completed without this info.
P'raps Raak is a jester
I have a simple view on life
You're born, you live, you die.
You may give rise to others
Whereby some may wonder why
If I were a mocking bird
I'd know just whom to mock
They'd be mainly politicians
I'd start with Mill and Locke
I wish I were a drainpipe
Quite narrow, dank and long
Then proverbial rats up me would run
While I did sing this song:

Such joy to be a drainpipe!
My rapture knows no bounds!
I'm such a lovely conduit!
No cloudburst me confounds! Is there a chorus?
[Rosie] I think that was it.
I reach from ground to rooftop high
From guttering to drains
Around me winds wisteria
Which drips down when it rains

Chorus: Such joy to be a drainpipe!
My rapture knows no bounds!
I'm such a lovely conduit!
No cloudburst me confounds!

I'm fond of my co-drainage chums
Fine sewer grates and gutter
We hardly ever get clogged up
With unwanted clutter

Chorus:
Such joy to be a drainpipe!
My rapture knows no bounds!
I'm such a lovely conduit!
No cloudburst me confounds!

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