The pieces below are I guess traditional/familiar themes for humour. The first, Brian, was inspired by Michael Palin’s ‘Ripping Yarns’, which I include for your delectation.








Brian is a vampire of some kind

well known as a boring little tit

he’ll render unto mush your mind,

if you leave it too late to flit


He’ll talk for hours in great detail

whether it’s wetter in May or June

and which tins of soup are on sale

or the bus came 9 seconds too soon.


It’s said that he struggles to shave

his reflection thinks he’s a bore

and so left to live in yonder cave

3 hours of taps was the final straw.


Even now some get caught unawares.

Like old Jones when buying a fridge

who bored by talk of carpets on stairs

threw himself off the nearest bridge.


His voice is monotone and bland,

the face an unmoving grey mask

for hours in one spot he can stand,

sustained by jam-butties and flask.


His parents deny that he’s theirs

and avoid him by hiding in trees

while his sister ran after the fairs

that day he told her about peas


For people to chat he’ll still search

but they hide under wheelie bin lids,

or skips where whole families perch

trying to save all their kids.


And so he roams town all alone,

or sometimes by the library he sits

a psychic vampire with mobile phone

the ultimate in boring little Tits.


Breakfast Call


He was only the milkman’s apprentice

but oh how he had made her heart sing,

and feel on the edge of love’s precipice

when two cartons of cream he did bring.


She knew he had seen her in a nightie,

so see-through, he’d stood there aghast

and coughed, his face burning brightly,

while offered a full English breakfast.


‘What’s up wi thee lad’ asked the milkman,

‘why tha shud go back and fill thi boots’

he explained the size of her frying pan,

and that it won’t be yoghurt and fruits.


With some trepidation our hero returned

and he cautiously knocked on her door,

she sat him down, her repast not spurned,

to more food than he’d ever seen before.


From black pudding to sausage to bacon

he’d eaten all when she demanded a kiss,

but his ardour she had failed to awaken

so he said ‘ta,love but I’ll give it a miss’.


  1. Excellent Nigel and I love how you have kept the spirit and personality of Ripping Yarns in both pieces. It has been a while since I heard the phrase “boring little tit” and remember how it was the ultimate insult back in the day. Ripping Yarns is looking like a revisit for the Summer.

    Liked by 1 person

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