Ho Ho Ho.

[davywavy]

A few days ago I said I'd write something festive for those of you as asked me to.

My apologies to cornaid, gwaunquest and hiromasaki - I didn't feel I know you well enough to skit you effectively.

‘twas the night before Christmas
And over Livejournal
Sat David’s friends,
Both divine and infernal
But at his desk in Stevenage
Sits David, working still
No coin of profit to my name
But still a large tax bill.
When with a howling like a train
There comes a Christmas ghost
He says I'll learn festivity
And he will be my host.
To take me on a Christmas tour
A scheme he will employ
He'll show me friends at Christmastide
And teach me Christmas joy.
I cavil fast and point at work
And all I have to do.
As entrepreneur I cannot stop
There's figures to accrue.
"Now be off with you, o festive sprite
There's money to be made
Though not a penny in my purse
Those taxes must be paid."
Ignoring me my undead guest
Reached forth a spectral hand
And took me ‘pon an Odyssey
Of Christmas o’er the land.
So flew we first to Reading town,
Where Rhona and her mates
Performed an act illegal
In nineteen US States.
With tools and toys and gewgaws
And tricks from ev’ry book
I think I saw a sheep there too,
(But I tried hard not to look).
Away from this debauchery
And then to Brum we fly
To find old beardy Sowden
With his nose stuck in a pie.
With glass in hand and cheery wave
Plus belly full of beer
His rosy face is all we need
To wish us seasons’ cheer.
And from the pub to campus next
And there I find young Joe.
Avoiding work as student Rep,
Grown fat on taxpayers dough.
“Worker harder, Dave, and pay more tax!”
His voice cried, clear and shrill
“The NUS won’t pay its way
So more tax, and yet more, still!”
And then from there my spectral guide
To seek out James instead
Whose greeting was a martial bow
And right hook to my head.
“Oh don’t be cross, Dave mate” he cried
Whilst picking up my teeth
“A quick dust-up is how men bond,
Or such is my belief.”
The ghost and I soon turned and ran
From his kicks and blows
And breathing hard we took time out
To straighten up my nose.
Still faster now to Jeni Law
‘mongst fairest in the land.
But to kiss her beau Marc, he needs
A box on which to stand.
"A shame", I said, "that Marc's not here
To share the Christmas flair."
"I don't know what you're on about" she said
"He's stood behind that chair."
Whilst still in Manc to Tiffany
As bounteous as the day
But 'ware for all you imbeciles
Her temper's quick to fray
With weary tread to to Inskauldrak
To hear his Commie prattle
To stay awake while he goes on
Is really half the battle
And there we find him being kind
and giving to the poor
To keep his presents for himself
Would be Tory, nothing more.
Then keeping to a fiscal theme
The ghost takes me to Boyle
Where he, like me, is working still
Engaged in honest toil.
A dour scot you'll see at first
He seems immune to booze
But truth it is, he told me once,
He's no reserve to lose.
From thence we fly to Scarborough
(The person, not the town)
Where there we see a Christmas gift
A face without a frown
To earn great cash is what she wants
Her gift from Santa's sack
So hope we send the shade and I
She gets her spirit back.
Now Westward 'cross the ocean deep
To lands uncivilised
Where Hamburgers are haute cuisine
And guns are highly prized.
And there we find her, glorious Wend
Her husband gets his kicks
By taking Brits to 'titty bars',
And making them meet chicks.
From thence far East, the ghost and I
Fair Karoline to see
I have to say good things for her -
Her dad's Ex-KGB.
So listing all her attributes,
To save me getting shot
She's tall and smart and generous,
And realy really hot.
And so at last to Stevenage
Our Oddysey will end
The ghost asks if I've learned goodwill
And peace on Earth to men
"Goodwill?" I cry, "I should say not!"
My voice it is quite cross
"With that damn trip to see my friends
I've made a thumping loss.
A letter here from Gordon Brown
With threats of jail and worse
He's asking even more from me -
Hands deeper in my purse!
So bugger off you festive ghost,
There's no goodwill to you.
And you lot can have your Christmas
But I've got work to do!"


Merry Christmas, everyone.

Comments

[raggedhalo.livejournal.com]

Why, thank'ee, sir! For the last two or three years, we were the only Area still left functional. South-East and East Anglia are just setting up now with a low-fee, part-time kinda model, but they're a long way getting back to how they used to be.

I've done a few visits up in your old stomping grounds, actually. I'd never appreciated exactly how bleak Beaconside is until I went and checked the place out. Yikes.

[mrmmarc.livejournal.com]

(shudders)
Did two years there followed by a year at Stoke site.
There use to be a HUGE Stoke/Stafford divide during elections. When i ran for president I was told by a Stafford candidate for the same post 'Don't bother husting in Stafford- I have all the votes sown up!'.
So I didn't. i just campaigned in Stoke (which outnumbered Stafford 4 to 1) and went after second and third votes.
Stafford candidate won the first round but didn't have enough. the next three rounds saw the Stoke candidates drop out and me get the transfers until I finally won.
I actually thanked him for his advice!
(grin)

'Course I added policy which said that three out of the seven Sabb positions HAD TO be based in Stafford, three in Stoke and one floating- hopefully it ended such things. But ya never know.

(grins)
Think Beaconside is grim now?
Once was a time when the SU was in town (The Whitley Building- currently still used by the FE college). that made it more grim.

Does it still have the ten males to one female ratio?

Glad to hear WMNUS is still alive and well. It had some good unions- I really enjoyed area conventions.