I SPOKE TO YOU IN WHISPERS By Neil Andrew

I SPOKE TO YOU IN WHISPERS
By
Neil Andrew

I spoke to you in whispers
As shells made the ground beneath us quake
We both trembled in that crater
A toxic muddy bloody lake
I spoke to you and pulled your ears
To try and quell your fearful eye
As bullets whizzed through the raindrops
And we watched the men around us die
I spoke to you in stable tones
A quiet tranquil voice
At least I volunteered to fight
You didn't get to make the choice
I spoke to you of old times
Perhaps you went before the plough
And pulled the haycart from the meadow
Far from where we're dying now
I spoke to you of grooming
Of when the ploughman made you shine
Not the shrapnel wounds and bleeding flanks
Mane filled with mud and wire and grime
I spoke to you of courage
As gas filled the Flanders air
Watched you struggle in the mud
Harness acting like a snare
I spoke to you of peaceful fields
Grazing beneath a setting sun
Time to rest your torn and tired body
Your working day is done
I spoke to you of promises
If from this maelstrom I survive
By pen and prose and poetry
I'll keep your sacrifice alive
I spoke to you of legacy
For when this hellish time is through
All those who hauled or charged or carried
Will be regarded heroes too
I spoke to you in dulcet tones
Your eye told me you understood
As I squeezed my trigger to bring you peace
The the only way I could
And I spoke to you in whispers......

The Brexit Gubbins....

                               

Breaking News: Theresa May has announced that the Brexit transition period will be extended until all leave voters have died.



All this Brexit gubbins is driving me doo-lally! Isn't it about time someone called in Noel Edmonds to sort out this deal or no deal thing? Furthermore, will my continental quilt still work when we leave? Moreover, the big problem seems to be with Irish boarder. Well, if he hasn’t paid his rent, then just evict him!

                                         

Because I suffer from dyslexia, everyone has always insisted that I’d be totally useless at poetry. But I’ve proved them all wrong! Just last week, I made two jugs, a vase and a bowl.



What is the difference between a wife and a crossword? You can normally work out where you went wrong with a crossword. She reckons that I possess an immature nature, coupled with a childlike mentality and that we must set some time aside to discuss this unfortunate problem. Now as if that's gonna happen at the beginning of the conker season!

                                   

                                                   

I've been having real problems with nuisance phone calls lately. The most common one seems to be. "You said you'd be home from Wetherspoons three hours ago!"



Yesterday, I opened the mail and received a photo from a speed camera in the post.  I sent it back immediately. It was of poor quality and far too expensive.

                                                           

Barmy Albert drags a huge metal box, covered in cobwebs and dead spiders to the Antiques Roadshow, when it was recently visiting Buxton. "Where did you get that from?", the expert asks. "It's been in my loft for fifty-odd years. I think it's a valuable family heirloom", says Albert. "Do you have insurance?" asks the expert. "No, should I?" asks Albert. "Yeah", replied the expert, "It's your water tank."



On a packed train from Manchester and a very attractive young lady gave me a huge smile.
It made me feel young again! Just two minutes later, she stood up and offered me her seat.
Made me feel old again...

                                   

Top Tip: Start preparing for Christmas early by falling out with all your friends and family now!



In a reflective mood, I surmised that as I get older, I begin to remember all the people I've lost along the way and say to myself that maybe a career as a tour guide wasn't for me...

                                             

Mark Knopfler arrives home carrying a large ornate picture frame and a bag of chips. His missus sez: "Where’ve you been all day?" He replies, "They asked me to open the new art museum and if  I'd do it, they sez that I can have a rare French impressionist painting. Then I called in the chippy on the way home." "How much cash did you spend today then?" "Absolutely nowt!" exclaimed Mark, "They were all avid Dire Straits fans, I got the Monet for nothin' and the chips were free."

                                         

If you read this weekly column regularly, then you help to make unimportant world decisions dealing with irrelevant, uncomplicated issues that influence insignificant amounts of human lives. Visit my website http://www.ComedianUK.com and continue the quest! Email me:comedianuk@sky.com



                                     

Sorry Cobber, but there's no paper in the dunny....

The Showbiz Scenario...

                                     

                                 

Artistes! Listen Up! When you’re setting up all your gear at a club and you feel that your job is pointless, remember there's a bloke in Germany that puts indicators on BMW’s.

So you're told by the panel that you've got no talent whatsoever and you won't get anywhere in showbiz. You walk off stage and the first person you see is Dermot O'Leary.

Breaking Showbiz News: Dire Straits and Chris Rea are joining forces to form a new band. I’m not sure what they’re gonna be called...

I was never going to find love in my local nightclub. All the girls that were there were looking for was security. At least that's what they shouted, every time I went near them.

Barmy Albert started a new job. He was amazed! He told the supervisor, "To tell you the truth, I cannot believe I'm working in the United Kingdom with all of these different languages. It’s so cosmopolitan! Who is that guy over there?" "That's Pawel." The supervisor replied, "He's Polish.” "Wow!" Albert replied, "Fair enough. What about that bloke standing over there. What language is he speaking?" "That's Gabor. He's Hungarian." "Okay." Sez Albert, "What about that fella over there, mumbling to himself. What flamin’ language is he speaking?" The supervisor sez: "That's Bob, he's a Geordie."

                                 

The missus asked me what I was Googling on the PC. "I sez: "I'm looking for some cheap flights," "Oh that's brilliant!" she replied. "Have you had any luck? I'll help you if you want." It's weird coz she's never, ever shown any interest in darts before now.

You know when you’re on the khazi, then suddenly realise that there’s no bog roll left, so you have to get up and do that little waddle, with your undercrackers around your ankles to get a new toilet roll? Well I got 100 yards from Aldi, afore the police stopped me....
                                     
                                             

The missus when we first met: "I love laying my head on your chest when you're sleeping so I can hear you breathe and your heart beat" The missus today: "I recorded you snoring,so you can hear how loud you are and why I can't flamin’ get to sleep, any night!"

My grandson said, "I just don't understand girls." I told him, "Don't worry that will change."
"Will it?" "Yes, when you get older, you won't understand women."

I've just found out the name Niamh is pronounced 'Neve'. Quite honestly I'm finding it very hard to beliamh. Matron, fetch the screens...

One day, you’ll just be a memory to some folk. Do your utmost to be a good one. Be aware that nothing lasts forever. So whoop it up, drink it down, take chances, avoid the drama and never have regrets, because at some point, you’ll have done exactly what you wanted to do. Alternatively, if you really want to follow your dreams, then go back to bed.  You can visit my website: www.ComedianUK.com Email me too: comedianuk@sky.com   Now, get back to work!

                              

Marriage....

                             

I sez to Barmy Albert, “You seem a tad depressed, matey.” He gazed at me with a saturnine grimace and declared, “I've just got old, all of a sudden! Moreover, I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees, got dodgy diabetes. I'm half blind, can't hear nowt proper, I’m taking ten tablets a day that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Sometimes, I can’t remember what the flamin’ hell I’m doing. I’ve got poor circulation that causes pins and needles in my hands and feet . I can't remember if I'm 65 or 82. Plus, I’ve lost all my best mates. Life is terrible!” I sez to him, “Look on the bright side Albert, at least you still have your driving license and new knees is good news!”

                                 

What is the difference between the missus and a crossword? You can normally work out where you went wrong with a crossword....



I find that knowing the difference between chalk and cheese, is advantageous when playing snooker...

                                            

I like playing chess with the old men in the park. Sometimes it's difficult to find 32 of them though...


                                                  

Yesterday, I was on the packed Virgin Pendolino train from Euston, when an absolutely gorgeous young lady gave me a massive smile. It made me feel really young again! A few seconds later, she stood up and offered me her seat. Made me feel really old again...



A couple from a travelling circus go to an adoption agency, but social workers are doubtful about their accommodation. So they produce photos of their 15 metre long caravan, the back half of which is a beautifully equipped nursery. The social workers then are doubtful about the education that would be provided. "We've employed an Oxford don who'll teach the child all the subjects along with Mandarin and ICT skills". There are then doubts expressed about the child’s healthy upbringing. "Our full time nanny is an expert in paediatric welfare and diet”, they reply. So the social workers are finally satisfied, and ask what age of child they were looking for. "We don't give a damn", they say, "as long as it fits in the cannon".

                                        

The odd-job man I hired yesterday was a total waste of time. I gave him a list of 8 jobs to do and when I got back, he'd only done 1,3, 5 and 7.



Thought for Thursday: 3D TV is brilliant! I've just watched the BBC weather forecast and I'm saturated!


                                              

The phone rings in the church vestry and the priest answers. The voice asks: 'Hello, is this Father O'Connor?' He replies: 'It is!' 'This is the Inland Revenue. Can you help us?' 'I most certainly can!' 'Do you know a Tommy Scroggins?' 'I do!' 'Is he a member of your congregation?' 'He is!' 'Did he donate £20,000 to the church?' 'He will!.'



I've been teaching my little dog Alfie to beg. Last Tuesday, he came back home with £11.98.



Are all the other folks in your dormitory just plain jealous because the mysterious voices only talk to you? Is the hamster dead, but the wheel is still going round? Well, now you can go see for yourself with my amazing new Jokey-Bloggington at www.ComedianUK.com. It’s comedianuk@sky.com if you fancy sending me an email. Now, get back to work!

                                            

The Rant & Rave!

                                   

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard things were, when they were growing up.What with walking ten miles to school every morning. Uphill and barefoot... BOTH ways. Yawn! How could it be uphill both ways?

And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it!

But now that I'm over the ripe old age of 50, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today.

You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a land of milk and honey! And I hate to say it, but you young 'uns today, you don't know how good you've got it!

I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have the interweb. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the bleedin' local library and look it up ourselves, in the index card box!

There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen!
Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the post box and it would take, like, a week to get there! Stamps were 5 pence apeice!

Social Services didn't give a rats hoo-haa if our parents gave us an 'ear warmer'. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission to kick the shit out of us! Nowhere was safe!

There were none of them there iPods, iPhones, iTunes gubbins If you wanted to steal music, you had to schlep down to the record shop and shoplift it yourself!
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and that Tony Blackburn would usually talk over the beginning and ruin it with one of his bobbins jokes! There were no CD players or iPods! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished and the tape would unravel. Because - that's how we rolled. Geddit?

We didn't have fancy technology like call waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called they got an engaged tone and that was that!

And we didn't have the luxury of Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your mum, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, a bailiff, you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, dude! That's if you had a phone! WE had to use semaphore!

We didn't have any state-of-the-art Sony Playstation or X-Box 360 video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'. Your guy was a little square! You actually had to use your imagination!! And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen... forever! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!

You had to use a little magazine called a TV Times to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! What with TWO flamin' channels! You had to get off your arse and walk over to the TV to change the channel! It was BBC or ITV. AND NO REMOTE CONTROL!!

There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying!?! We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons, you SPOILT LITTLE RAT BASTARDS!!

And we didn't have microwaves, if we wanted to heat summat up we had to use the stove! Imagine that! NO DINGBOX!

That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled. You little arseholes wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1970 or before!

End of rant!


                                       

Confessions of a Chauvinist....

           

Hey men! Listen up! It is most imperative for all us lads to take into account, that as our wives get older, it will be inevitable that she will become unable to maintain the same level of housekeeping as when
she was a young filly. When you notice this, do your utmost not to bellow at her. Many females are oversensitive and there’s nothing more infuriating than an oversensitive woman. Let me relate how I handled the situation with the missus, (I call her ‘Narnia’, because she has hair like a lion, looks like a witch and is the size of a wardrobe). When I took 'early retirement' last year, it became necessary for Narnia to get a full-time job, primarily for beer tokens.

Within just a year from commencing full time employment, I noticed she was beginning to age rapidly. I usually get home from the golf course about the same time she arrives back from work. Although she is aware of how famished I am, she usually says that she must recuperate for half an hour or so, prior to starting cooking. I will never harangue her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me up when she finally gets dinner on the table.

I generally have lunch in the restaurant at the club, so eating out is not an option. I’m ready for some home- cooked nosh when I get home. In days of yore, she would stack the dishwasher as soon as we finished eating. But now, it’s not unusual for copious items of crockery and cutlery to sit festering on the kitchenette worktop for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won’t clean themselves. I know she appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she retires to bed. She starts work early (she is a Gritter over the Snake Pass). I really think my experience as an entertainer helps a lot. I consider telling people what they ought to do, in a jocular fashion; it’s one of my main talents. Now that she is akin to a trainee corpse, (she has a face like a pirate’s flag) she does seem to get knackered so much faster than she used to do, back in the day. However, I have begun to accept this.

Our washer and dryer are in the garage. Sometimes she curtly informs me that she is utterly exhausted and is physically unable to undertake yet another foray down those stone flags. I don’t blow the matter out of proportion and exacerbate this unfortunate scenario; as long as she finishes all the laundry the next evening, I’m willing to overlook it. Not only that, but unless I need something ironed to wear to the Monday Masonic Lodge meeting, Wednesday’s or Saturday’s lap-dancing club, or to Tuesday’s bowling, or Thursday's billiard match or summat similar, I will tell her to wait until the next evening to do the ironing. This gives her a little more time to perform a veritable smorgasbord of domestic tasks, that she may have inadvertently neglected, such as 'bottoming' the skirting boards, delousing the dog, getting down on her hands and knees to vigorously scrub the scullery floor tiles, or steam cleaning the oven. (thereby removing built-up grease and other disgusting charred detritus). It’s all a matter of getting her fundamental chores into better perspective.

Another symptom of ageing is perpetual whinging. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to clean and gut the fish that I caught, while I was out with the boys at the cabin over the weekend. But hey lads! We take them for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three hours. That way, she won’t have to rush about too much. When she’s taking out the rubbish bins, she remonstrates they are very heavy, so I advise her to make two or three trips. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn’t affect her at all (if you get my drift). I genuinely like to think that tact and diplomacy are two of my stronger points.