My view of humour

The difference between a goldfish and the government

 A goldfish spends his life in a transparent glass bowl

Going round in circles,

You can see what he’s doing!

A Government isn’t orange,

It’s not a colour they’d entertain,

And, in this case, no shade approaching red at all!

A goldfish cannot attend cabinet meetings

His fins aren’t equipped for holding pens

And he’d get important papers very soggy!

A government is not composed entirely

Of those that can swim

Quite a lot end up floating upside down!

A goldfish does not introduce law after law

The only law it has

Is which way to swim round the tank

A Government is in charge of financial matters

Unlike a goldfish

Who wouldn’t really care if he had a penny or ten million pounds

A goldfish swims under a stone bridge

Going round and round and round and round and round –

A Government doesn’t have a stone bridge!

A Government has responsibilities

Towards all of its people, (YES, ALL!!!)

Whereas a goldfish is relatively carefree

A goldfish can be BOUGHT QUITE CHEAPLY!

At a pet shop, or won at a fair,

Which you can’t, of course, do with a Government!

A Government can decide to drop bombs

And send men to kill people

Which a goldfish, not even a very belligerent one,

The rose, it grows
so pretty and so pink,
some call its perfume heavenly while others say it stinks!
but still, it will
produce a prickly thorn,
protecting Mother Rose until the tiny bud is born.

A god, or not?
Do you see any pipes?
If not, this pan must be the mucky thing the washer wipes!
For greens, or beans,
or even sticky custard>
If a God was drowning in your sink, you'd likely get quite flustered!

Quite big, a Pig,
(At least, when fully grown),
But rather sweet, with dainty feet, and an odour all of his own,
Beware, despair,
He's not the farmers pet!
He'll end up cut in rashers down the bacon factory yet!

you can’t eat your dinner off a dog -
their undulating surface and mobile nature
prevent this.

you can’t stroke a table -
unless you have a particularly strong
wood fetish.

you can’t polish and wax a dog -
not even one with a very
friendly nature.

you can’t teach an old table -
not even a nineteenth century oak barley twist -
new tricks.

you can’t show your friends how nice
your new Dalmatian looks with its eight matching chairs
and lace tablecloth.

you can’t expect an extending mahogany six-seater
to strain for release from trap 5
and round the bends at 40 m.p.h.

you can’t throw out your old dog
when its scratched and one leg is broken
for the binmen to collect

you can’t  take your table out for a walk,
you’d look bloody stupid with a six by four gateleg
on a lead.

finally, if still confused,
never give  pedigree chum to your table,
and never lay a dog.

Who can divine a taste like thine?
Blest odour of the reddest wine,
Thou liest within a silken skin;thou art so fair, mine heart you win.

Sounds heavenly thou singest me,
My journeyer from o’er the sea,
And, when you’re gone, I’ll be heart-sorry,
Oh! Haggis mine, from Tobermorry.

A clock goes tock
Unless its hands have stopped –
Perhaps it’s stood at half-past-three because it has been dropped

If so, then go
Horologist hunting – quick!
And ask the bloke to mend your clock and you’ll soon be hearing it tick!

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