"I've just done some research, and now realise this is really funny."
By research, do you mean drugs?
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"I've just done some research, and now realise this is really funny."
By research, do you mean drugs?
So that'll make you Dr. Waylandsmithy PhD now.
This sub is bloody hilarious. I don't get care that it isn't intentional.
I think you'll find that you will be getting care.
In the interest of self aggrandisement I would like to direct you to my sub of about 3 months ago taking the piss out of the author. Now that is a subject which requires research to get the joke. Not surprised it sank with little trace.
Happy monday, everyone!
Search Karen J Stevens on Amazon as her unbelievable website asked me to, and you will find the first result is a book called Going Bonkers. I'm not even kidding, try it.
Here's one of her legendary poems. I'm thinking of using this in class as an example of how not to do it. I'm not even kidding, it's absolutely jam-packed with poetic faux pas.
Mr & Mrs Twee go to Church
Dedicated to Nancy (Mattelois) for inspiring this escapade!
Mr & Mrs Twee decided they would go to church,
Their vicar waiting in pulpit perch!
The Twees all dressed up in Sunday best,
They had to be a cut above the rest.
Mrs Twee with toffee nose up in the air,
Waltzed down the aisle to a pew,
To a front place amongst chosen few,
But peace was not to be found there....
For a child who didn't like Mrs Twee,
Because she was so toffee nosed and snobby,
Decided to water pistol her posh new coat,
The little torment was into acting the goat!
Mrs Twee was not at all amused,
Verbalizing her disdain undiffused!
The child thought that was such jolly fun,
Knowing he had riled her some!
The only front pew to have was near the child,
The child planning more mischief smiled!
Out came his peashooter and bag of peas,
Target, the hat of Mrs Twee's!
The child pelted in successive fire,
One pea after another with force so dire!
Mrs Twee's hat was covered in peas,
All around the brim he was a tease!
Mr Twee told the child to 'pack it in',
But in doing so disturbed the vicar, what a sin!
Mrs Twee gave the child a filthy look,
The child's father some offence took....
The child's father was a burley fighting man,
He shoved the Twee's with fist like a lump of ham!
The child decided to pelt Mrs Twee's hat with a conker or two,
Which knocked her hat into the floor of the pew!
Mrs Twee bent down to pick up her hat,
The child deposited upon her seat, some cow pat,
His stocks of mischief and tools so plenty,
In fact I think, something like twenty!
Twenty different things to use on Mrs Twee,
How mischievous can you be!?
Mrs Twee sat down in the cow pat,
Just how disgusting, is that!
Mrs Twee stood up and let out a yell,
Her anger now boiling and impossible to quell,
Mr Twee was into a fight with the child's Dad,
And he too was hopping mad!
The child decided more was to come,
And deposited in Mrs Twee's pocket some sticky gum,
Gum he has first off chewed then spat out,
Gee did this make Mrs Twee shout!
The vicar ordered the fighting to stop,
Now he was angry and on the hop,
The mess the child and Twee's had made in his church,
Forcing the Vicar off his pulpit perch!
Mrs Twee had cow pat all over her posh coat,
Sticky gum in her pocket and peas on her hat - go gloat!
The child father had ripped Mr Twee's mackintosh,
And punched him in the face with his fist like a kosh!
The parishioners sat with disgust on faces,
An appropriate way to behave, in such Godly places,
The mess was getting out if hand,
But the child had more kinds of mischief planned!
The Vicar marched the Twees and their opponents out,
He could take no more with out a doubt!
But in the church yard the child ran amok,
He threw lumps of soil at Mrs Twee's frock!
Mrs Twee tried to chase the child away,
But tripped and fell into a mound of soil and clay!
Now she was covered from head to foot,
Whilst Mr Twee sustained another head butt,
From the child's father, who could see no wrong,
In his child's behaviour, a very rough throng!
The Twees were irate and it showed,
The child and his father easy to goad...
Could not avoid continuing the scrap,
The poor Vicar was in a flap,
His Sunday Service ruined for sure,
The Twee's were targeted even more.
A parishioner called the local police,
The affray was now set to increase,
The child hell bent on mischief had more,
A banana skin saw Mrs Twee fall to the floor.
The police arrived in a riot van,
Assumed Mrs Twee was drunk and threw her in,
Into their van went Mrs Twee,
Followed by the Mr Twee, for all to see!
But the child and his father were also taken,
To the local police station,
The Twees accused the child of starting the fight,
Likewise did the child and his father but who was right?
The police decided to impose charges on all,
They needed the court to decide the culprit of the brawl!
The Twees were mortified at the thought,
Of having to appear before magistrates in the local court !
Their reputation was now in tatters,
Like that is the only thing that matters!
To say nothing of their ruined clothes and hats,
And the ruination of a church service alas!
It seems that the Twee's are safe nowhere,
Now they consider that life isn't fair,
For they were dealt another cruel blow,
When the court said they should better know!
And the result was that they got a criminal record,
Fined some money and given an ASBO order, at which they roared,
This isn't right; please you are not right in this,
They commenced to shouting at the magistrate a diss!
This afforded them a contempt of court,
The penalty was a spell in prison and a lesson taught,
Now the Twee's were reduced to local jail birds,
The way they felt was beyond all words!
How could these two posh people keep face,
Now they had been reduced to such disgrace?
Their names and photos all over the papers,
Exposing their now outlandish capers!
They cannot even go to church to prey,
How could such a disaster befall their Twee Sunday?!
Not safe let out without a police escort!
Fighting in church and tut tut, then landing in court!
Two House Points and a Gold Star for anyone who read the whole pome.
Something comforting about seeing this again - it's become the NB smack - can't seem to get ourselves off it for more than a couple of months....
From the last paragraph of her poem: (I stopped reading after a couple of lines and scrolled to the climatic ending)
They cannot even go to church to prey,
How could such a disaster befall their Twee Sunday?!
Aside from the fact that she has misspelled pray, she's also rhymed it with Sunday.
Just horrible.
That said, I am looking forward to more laughter injections from the doctor! Although it's been a year now, so I won't hold my breath.
Pure Vogon. I especially like the play on words of prey/pray. Genius!
(Didn't manage to read it all though)
I read it all. Some of it isn't actually that bad, in a simplistic, make stuff rhyme rather than necessarily make sense, kind of way. But most of it is forced and doesn't scan or make sense. If she cut it down to about a sixth of the length it would be alright. You'd lose most of the story mind.
I think my favourite bit is "Verbalizing her disdain undiffused!"
Why is it that I can't try to read that poem without imagining it in a Pam Ayers voice?
Has it really been three months already?
Shame on you Bonjo!
Is it wrong to admit smiling at the phrase nano-cabbaged!
And I thought there was nothing to read on the internet tonight.
Up you go you little rascal. Rarrrr!
Tantamount!
Can we set an official date for the next appearance ? Lets say September 1st, I'll race you to it on the day Bonjo.
I missed this the last three times. Now I have seen it. Damn you bonjo
When I read the poem, I visualize the Elephant Man, licking a window.
He's also flinging his own filth at a picture of the baby Jesus. I need some sleep.
How on earth did I miss this before!?!
This woman (?) is clearly a Renaissance genius, combining all the best features of William Topaz McGonagall and Uri Geller. She was clearly also the inspiration behind the film "The Men Who Stare at Goats".
Fantastic, to feel my brain cells dying by mass suicide because of a poem, a truly new experience for me and one I would prefer not to repeat.
So how come this didn't make FP then?
Uno, I imagine they are saving this one for a special occasion. Perhaps for the Olympic opening day, so that the world can see the true quality of British humour.
This at least gave rise to the classic “poking mentals with a stick” - a phrase once read, never forgotten.
I do remember 'poking a mental with a stick'. Wonderful line.
Just felt like bumping this. So I did.
This improves with time, just like Surströmming.
Do you think I might have touched a nerve with my original comment ?
For the benefit of newbies, she places herself amongst the greatest (er, she's the one in the middle):

[borrowed from her own website]
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