Enough of this outrageous hammery, It makes me all stuttery-stammery, I blush to my nose, And just stare at my toes, When the topic's unceasingly mammary.
Not original, but an old favourite because of its sheer silliness:
Said the vicar of Old St Paul's "Concerning these cracks in the walls, would it be faster to use quick-dry plaster?" And the Bishop of Leicester said "Balls!"
The message came in bit by bit It was clear things had gone all to shit The chap on the wireless Was tapping out, tireless, Dit-dit-dit, dah-dah-dah, dit-dit-dit.
It's Monday: can't get out of bed. It's Tuesday: A gas bill that's red. It's Wednesday: a bruise. It's Thursday: blown fuse. It's Friday: Hooray! Still not dead!