Month: July 2018

I Hate Hollywood‌

I Hate Hollywood, though I’ve never been
I’ve seen it enough on my TV screen
I Hate its ego, detest its vanity
Its ideology is anti humanity

I loathe its deception, despise its pretence
Elitism should be a civil offence
‘Authentically beautiful’ Hollywood stars
Vainly concealing their surgical scars.

I hate its eating disorders, its trout pout
The way it shamelessly implants self loathing and doubt
Stay young, be skinny, don’t dare to grow old
If you stop looking pretty, prepare to be trolled!

Its skin is too tanned, it’s teeth are too White
It’s developed a cure for cellulite??!!
Where’s the cowgirl with middle aged spread?
Where’s the male lead with the balding head?

Let’s invade and spoil the show
Give Superman a camels toe
Make Laura Croft a size 18
Make James Bond look like Mr Bean

Let the sexy seductress have thin lips…
Droopy breasts and spacious hips
Make the swashbuckling swordsman four foot three
Make the handsome stranger look like… me!!!

Nothing is natural, nobody’s real
Cotton wool balls aren’t a proper meal!
Today the Chef’s Special is laxative pills…
All the Heroes are Zeroes in Beverly Hills!

Copyright (c) Mac McFadden 2018

‘YOU CAN’T BEAT AN OLD FASHIONED ENGLISH ‘CAFF'”

You can’t beat an old-fashioned English ‘caff’
The scurrying, clattering, chattering staff
Typhoo puddles on wobbly tables
The builder-banter, the wide-boy-fables
The cackles of Winifreds, Ethels and Mabels
The Radio babble, the Street talk…
The clang of a waitress dropping your fork…
Frothy coffee in a bowl-shaped cup…
With a handle so small that you can’t pick it up!
Chipped lumps of Demerara
Being plopped into Albert’s tea by his carer
Diners trying to desperately force…
A flatulent, plastic tomato to spit out the sauce
The screaming scrapes of the chair legs
The lard-arsed smell of frying eggs
Bean-smeared plates with bacon fat on
The sausage cook with a sous chef’s hat on
The ‘Full English’ that won’t quite fit on the plate
Maintaining the country’s mortality rate
Teabags mocking their use-by date
Fried bread being served as a hangover cure
By a dexterous waiter whilst mopping the floor
Frozen butter pats that can’t be spread
Without making a right pig’s ear of your bread
Bakewell Tarts and Pukka Pies
Crinkled chips with a thousand eyes
Thin white toast with burnt bits
Rock cakes that survived the Blitz!
You can’t get all this in the Savoy or the Ritz
Feeding: workers, shirkers, paupers and princes
Trend setters and blue rinses
Night shift workers, ways and strays,
The Old Bill and the latest Krays
Fulfilling every culinary need
From Lizard Point to Berwick upon Tweed
Consoling the Lonely from Margate to Bath…
You can’t beat an old-fashioned English ‘caff’

Copyright(c)MacMcFadden2017

‘Rebel Without Applause’ 

Wear brown in town, wear a bowler in your shed.
Eat dinner in the Ritz with your knickers on your head.
Put on a coat… then don’t go out.
Put on a Sports bra and just do… nowt!
Have your starter for afters, stir your tea with a fork.
Sign your name on a cheque with chalk.
Let the dog out at night, walk the cat.
Hang up your boots and stand in your hat.
Sit in the quiet zone and play the drums.
Take off all your clothes, then put on your mum’s.
Eat crisps in bed… in an IKEA store.
Get a speeding fine on a rickshaw.
When Cold Callers come a-knocking… OPEN your door!
Leave CLEAN pants on the bathroom floor.
Get summoned to court and play the Jester.
Order a plate of Scouse… in Manchester.
Bring tinned Soup to the boil and IMPROVE the flavour.
Replace the ‘F’ in the ‘F Word’ with a nice semi quaver.
Indicate left then turn right.
Go out and paint the town black and white.
Drink Horlicks when it’s not even night.
Go topless at a wedding, wear a suit on a beach.
Hang your favourite shirt in a place you can’t reach.
Yodel in a library, sleep at a wake.
Eat the candles then blow out the cake.
Go down on one knee on a first date.
Go to a Greek Taverna and MEND the plates.
Throw a party and don’t tell your mates.
Take supplements to recede you hair.
Show off when there’s nobody there.
And… what the hell???… EAT Silica Gel!!!
(Eat the hairy bit of the kiwi as well!).
Join a Choir and don’t sing.
Become a royal and don’t wear bling.
Order a Big Mac… in Burger King.
Winge when you’re winning, laugh when you’re losing.
Go to Coventry… by way of your own choosing.
Fix post-its to your desk… with screws.
Roll over Tchaikovsky… tell Handel the news…
Beg people to step on your Blue Suede Shoes.
Take your Jersey to Guernsey, subtract your plus fours
Moo at the Herd as you milk the applause.
~
Copyright©MacMcFadden2016