Red Alert!

Panic stations all around

Out of bed like it’s on fire

Going to Marrakesh in 9 days

And my passport has expired!

Working full time

Easter in between

Only one working day

To go and see the Queen

Tried to sort it all online

Computer says bloody ‘no’

Battling to wake up sans caffeine

But to the post office I must go

Thanking f**k

It’s actually open

Now it’s been privatised

In this case

Flogging it off

Is actually saving lives

Grabbed a form in a frenzy

Blurted out my dilemma

Fortunately the guy on the counter

Helped me keep my s**t together

Panic not, the form’s really easy

Renewal the simplest option

Now get yourself to Snappy Snaps

For some mugshots for identification

Well, I look so rough I want to cry

But time is of the essence

Not enough for slap and a blow dry

When there’s no time like the present

So off I pop with under eye bags

And creases on my face from sleep

I look so rotten I terrify children

As I hurry down the street

She takes my pics in a flash (lol)

This camera sure as hell better lie!

The wrinkles I’ve acquired since the last

Are so savage I want to die

With limp bed hair

And puffy cheeks

I may need a counter-signatory

The girl in the original

Passport shot

Undetectable in the older horror story

I pay the bill all the same

And shuffle off out the shop

I blame the photographer for causing me pain

Not the fact my hair’s like a mop

Not the fact I’ve aged

Well, it has been ten flipping years!

Guess I should consider Botox

And wipe away my tears

Anyway I’m lucky

For I live in the smoke

And Her Maj has a free appointment

On the one day I can actually go!

So I’ve completed the form

As careful as can be

Stumped up the dosh

So the country I can flee

Thus this catastrophe

Has a seemingly happy ending

And I can face my mum

Without having lost all the money we’re spending

On a mini trip of a lifetime

For how flaming would she be?

If we’d paid but couldn’t go in the end?

Because of a ditsy dumb ass like me?!

What Box?!

fist

If you try to box me in

I will come out fighting

Please don’t try to mess with me

As I can be quite frightening

I’ll take so much

And then I’ll blow

Be warned of this

For there’ll be nowhere to go

When I switch

To my fight mode

I’ll take you down

As I explode

So you’ve been warned

For I’ve had enough

I may be blonde

But I can be tough

Don’t be misled

By my bubbly disposition

I may appear fluffy

But you’ll feel it if you’re bitten

My teeth are sharp

And can cut to the bone

So you’d better back down

And leave me the f**k alone.

 

T F HELL!

The rush commute across London

By bus, tube or train

Like sardines in a can

Or rats up a drain

Herded like cattle

Ranted at by TFL

Hamsters on a wheel

A daily taste of hell

Personal space invaded

Rammed against each other in a cage

No wonder some people lose it

Consumed by frustration and rage

Exposed to each other’s odour

We sweat and we perspire

Germs gleefully multiply

A breeding ground, they spread like fire

Mingling with

‘The great unwashed’

A mosh pit of misery

How do they justify the cost?!

Delays, cancellations,

Overcrowded stations close

Locked on the street

Crowds gather, nowhere to go

Then when you get in

The platform’s 5 lines deep

With people clamouring to board

A bottle-neck of bewildered ‘sheep’

What the solution is I don’t know

Should we all vacate the town?

Move ourselves to the sticks?

Or stay here and drown?

Quit our city jobs?

Work in the local pub?

With London rents soaring

We’d be buggered but perhaps we should

For perhaps another

Way we’ll find

More conducive to getting

The work-life balance just right

More of the ‘me’ time

Less of the grind

Space to breathe

De stress, unwind

For nigh on 15 hours a week

I traverse this treacherous treadmill

Purely for work, pleasure is extra

And I’m finding it pretty dreadful

So I’m seeking ways

To ease the pain

For I’ve hit a wall

Can’t continue this way

I do have a choice

Though it’s a tough one to make

So I’m weighing everything up

For my sanity’s at stake

I’ve done it for the money

But no amount of dosh

Can refund me the hours

Of my life I’ve lost

So watch this space

We’ll see how things pan out

Either poor and sane I’ll be

Or loaded with the straight jacket out!