Deck the aisles with prickly holly
Fa la la la la la la la la
Fa la la la la la la la la
Actually, shopping centres can be a hazard at any time, but at This Time of Year…bleargghh! Not enough check-out chicks (that’s the sobriquet cashiers go by in this part of the world) checking out. All the staples back-shelved to make room for the chocolate santas and tinsel and “special Christmas editions” of pulp magazines. Bung a sprig of holly on a packet of aspirin and dog kibble, get all the staff to don red plush antler caps and presto! instant spirit-of-Christmas.
I was in the check-out queue recently and looked at the covers of the (many!) magazines featuring the currently “hip” nymphets who seem to want to be made more “hip.” Or, rather, reduced hip, but you know what I mean. Rhymes began to form in my head. This happens. Often. Sometimes brilliantly. Sometimes not. You decide.
On Re -arranging Nature © D.J.Patmore
I’m thinking of cosmetic surgery.
Oh! Nothing too grand or too flash.
Well,I haven’t got much that needs fixing
And I haven’t got very much cash.
But I stand in the line at the check-out
And I look at the magazine pics
Of all of those Hollywood bimbos
And the bits that they can’t wait to fix.
They’ve been botoxed and lipo’d and silicon’d
To within an nth of their lives!
And it’s not just a “girly thing” either –
It’s the husbands as well as the wives!
Do I want to go under the scalpel
And write out a whopping great cheque?
Do I care what the world thinks I look like?
Do I honestly care?
Do I heck!
And I am not the only word-tinker in this household. Besides the Blog Mog, the Man of the House is also given to similarly frivolous outbursts:
Cosmetic Surgery – ad nauseum © P.K.James
I have now had my first consultation
(Dr Zamet Al Masreh, Dip. Med.)
He studied my case in great detail,
“Very please, you lie up on this bed?”
The exam seemed to go on forever,
I stared at the ceiling in dread
“We’ll tie everything north of your navel
In a knot on the top of your head!”
Now I’m not really sure that I need this,
I’m over the gorgeous and glam.
I don’t want the scar,
I’ve made it this far.
Perhaps I’ll just stay as I am.
In case you think I’m an anti-Christmas curmudgeon, no, I’m not. I just hate the crass commercialism and the greed.
I should tell you that yesterday I bought a tree! A very neat, well-shaped Cupressus macrocarpa which can live happily in a pot for a few years before needing to be planted-out. It can sit on the deck when not doing seasonal duty. It has soft, lime-y foliage and a sweet citrus scent. Best of all, it is not dead, it did not require the rape of the land for plastic production and the money spent remains in my local area.
Before I go…to those of you who would like something other than the Muzak which floods us at this season, I commend the inimitable Tom Lehrer. Never heard of him? Shame on you! Google his name and you’ll even get some of his wicked lyrics.
In fact, I think I’ll sing some right now. Look out, neighbours!