I've started working on this year's panto script again! So far I have two long skits but no story to hang them on.
I'm not getting anywhere fast.
Today I have translated 'Auld Lang Syne' into pigeon Yiddish (now there's a concept!) as a payoff for a lame joke, and I am about to cut out the poem below for obvious reasons...
(Or maybe they aren't obvious reasons - to explain: Jimmy Savile is a TV personage / celeb. He got big(ish) by presenting a show called Jim'll Fix It a BBC show that ran from the mid 1970s through to the early 1990s.
Jim'll Fix It became a fixture of Saturday evening television viewing, often sandwiched between Dr Who and The Generation Game and was more horrible and horrifying than either of them.
Sir Jimmy as he became, now lives - for some of the year at least- in a remote cottage half way up Glen Coe and is seen occasionaly in the local tea shop - a cue for all the locals to hide as he embarrasses everyone by trying to jump the cue by "Being Famous" - a ploy which fails miserably when the place is full of foreign tourists who don't have a foggist who he is.)
Act Something Scene 2I'm not getting anywhere fast.
Today I have translated 'Auld Lang Syne' into pigeon Yiddish (now there's a concept!) as a payoff for a lame joke, and I am about to cut out the poem below for obvious reasons...
(Or maybe they aren't obvious reasons - to explain: Jimmy Savile is a TV personage / celeb. He got big(ish) by presenting a show called Jim'll Fix It a BBC show that ran from the mid 1970s through to the early 1990s.
Jim'll Fix It became a fixture of Saturday evening television viewing, often sandwiched between Dr Who and The Generation Game and was more horrible and horrifying than either of them.
Sir Jimmy as he became, now lives - for some of the year at least- in a remote cottage half way up Glen Coe and is seen occasionaly in the local tea shop - a cue for all the locals to hide as he embarrasses everyone by trying to jump the cue by "Being Famous" - a ploy which fails miserably when the place is full of foreign tourists who don't have a foggist who he is.)
"(A choir of angelic cherubs, each wearing a “Jim Fixiteth For Me” badge appears – or we con Eileen into doing another solo. If she can manage in the style of John Cooper Clarke, so much the better.)
Super Jimmy Savile,
What is he like?
He's got more horrible track suits
Than David Icke
If you want something opening, he'll be there
in a ton of cheap jewellery and snow white hair
No secret alter-ego, it's plain to see
It's bigger than him - and twice as big as me
He used to run marathons before they were 'Snickers'
No one ever accused him of getting in her knickers
He lives up the Glen just near the bend and
Everyone who lives up there calls him their friend
He's loud and he's gaudy, his voice grates your ear
He's the only celeb we got living round here
Youngsters and foregners look at him in awe
And ask each other "what exactly is he for?"
He isn't for anything - exept for himself
Another has-been celebrity, sitting on the shelf
The last of his kind - the last we have
He's Jimmy Savile - the Superchav"
Yep, it's got to go... it's crap, but at least I got to post one of my poems in my blog. Now where is the one about slashing my eyballs because no won luvz mi?
.
1 comment:
Uh... ouch.
I just home Jim never gets a load of that poem!!!
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