mc5 - Pea and Honey Recipes

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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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Except the pygmy marmoset

I don't like it at all.

My love is like a boil-ed sweet

It's sweet and hard and sticky

And when I suck it in my cheek

I give myself a hickey

Our love was never rash or wrong

But rauchy, wriggly, rapt

Er, raunchy.

Now I'm covered in a itchy rash

All poxy, syphed, and clapped.

My loves are lovely, dark and deep

Consisting, as they do

Of Amelle, Jade and Heidi

Hidden text

The Sugababes, fyi

Tweety Pie and Wicky Woo

My love is like a firework

That explodes, then fades to dark

My cherry bomb has long been popped

We did it in the park.

The wisest thing I ever heard

I now will tell to you:

When romantic'lly you've erred We await the wisdom - who's it going to be, who's it going to be?

Just hide the corpse from view.

My love is like a stifled sneeze

Which makes your ears go pop

It's better out than in, I say

So don't let your knickers drop My coat is the one at the left hand side ...

My love is like an urban fox

A-rifling in the trash or 'bin' if you're English. You choose.

She slinks along the midnight docks

Exchanging sin for cash or vice versa if you speak Brit English

My love is like a whooping crane

Slender, tall, aloof

She eats raw fish for breakfast

While standing on the roof

My love is like a tower crane

She stands so tall and strong

Lifting bricks to dizzy heights

As she does my dong. lovely girl

My love is quite the ding dong bell (belle?)

She says I sound her chimes

We make love in the steeple

Countless, sinless times

Comme haut arbre est mon amour

Ca me paraît sans fin

Et moi, j'n'suis que minuscule

J'ai une pine, hélas, pas un pin.

Mein Liebling ist eine heftige Frau

Who doesn't speak the lingo

But underneath her monobrow

She thinks of naught but bingo.

My chair is made of plasticine

It moulds to my own shape

But when my cat sits on it

It acts like sticky-tape

My other chair's a Chippendale

With strong and shapely arms

It stoutly holds my nether end

While I display my charms

I sit in this ejector seat

Thanking heavens my hair is all neat

have we slipped mode?

Well, just for one ode

Back to normal when this is complete

The normal service is resumed

And nights feels most ashamed

That deed must never be exhumed

And no-one will be blamed

I sit in this ejector seat

With my finger poised over 'Re-Tweet'

(pen) Whyjer do that?

Because I have flu and my brain isn't working properly... sorry. Try again...

I sit in this ejector seat

And press the big red button

Alas, I'm in a 'copter

Over Carshalton and Sutton

I wish I were a beer mat (Chalky) :-)

Soaking-up real ale

But sadly I'm a meerkat [Rosie] ;-)

Deserted, full of fail

I wish that on the internet

I'd find just one true thing

Bat sadly there is Google

And, even worse, there's Bing

I wish I were the Christmas elf [Phil] the exact line I had envisaged ;o)

Who loads old Santa's sled

For after working all day long

I get ou' me 'ead.

I wish my Christmas stocking

Were twenty-four feet long

For holding my gift ladder

And the cast of 'Desert Song'

I wish I spoke Italian

Just like old Silvio

Coz the translation for 'stallion'

Is 'Sly Stallone' dontcha know Kapow.

I wish I were a snowflake

All flaky, frigid, cold

But I would be so delicate

I'd crumble, truth be told.

I wish I was a skater I've never seen the Dutch get so excited about anything so much as the prospect of canal skating at the weekend. Looking less likely now, though

In frilly lycra tights

Head down and arms a-flailing

On me you'd set your sights

I wish I were the evening star

Hesperus by name Hesperus by nature. Nudge, nudge.

Chuffing down to Swindon way

To take the wall of shame

- my paternal grandmother - god rest her soul - used the phrase 'wreck of the Hesperus' on a daily basis - not really sure why. She never mentioned evening stars or Swindon environs.

There's something 'bout a limerick

Don't know quite what it is (Chalky)

Hidden text

Softers and I occasionally exchange cryptic references to steam locos in these pages and elsewhere in the Morniverse. "Evening Star" was the name given rather sentimentally to the last steam locomotive built by British Railways, at Swindon in March 1960. Ugly great thing, more like the Wr of the H. My Mum's favourite phrase was "Patience on a monument."

P'raps it is the scansion [rosie] ;o)

Or just where the wit is

This is my resolution:

Just ten square meals a day

One hundred miles of cycling

Then sell it on eBay

I wish I were a stick of rock

My avatar writ through

Or gothic-scribed with 'Blackpoo'[sic]

But Milton Keynes will do

I wish I were a Rolling Stone

Pref'rably Sir Michael

I'd proudly flaunt my rubb'ry lips

Which daily self-recycle

I wish I was a slow, sure thaw

That melts the ice and snow

I'd change the ice to sogginess

And make the rivers flow.

I wish I had a shopping list

To go with my fat wad

Because I'm so impulsive

At following a fad

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