a little Christmas Carol I wrote for Jeanine who always ends up with me or some other dreadful cousin come uncle for Christmas dinner who usually degrades and debouches himself in some way .

A song I wrote this morning for a girl who ran a grease box cafe in the favela , If cook's could kill then this greasy girl was definitely licensed to grill !! she's always standing by ever ready to kill your sense of humour with sarcasm or ease the stomach acid with her peppermint pill

A song sang through the perspective of a bad tempered old tree the living monument of mystery Robin Hood's tree is by far the most famous tree in all of ancient history a thousand years of seething silent sophistry .

A song about a crazy Irish girl I met in Greece she was totally wired to the moon, out of her mind on everything from poitin to pixie dust .

Check A musing about giving your offspring a strong polysyllabic sounding name , something that will inspire them to aspire towards fortune and fame . my latest episode!

Greta has an almost impossible sales pitch. She's demanding that the incredibly rich abandon those expensive pieces of kitsch. They fly to the cop-out climate meetings in their Learjets and show no sign of regret. Her gargantuan glitch is trying to move these people toward the green dream of a beggar's itch. However, these dinosaurs who block destiny's drawbridge are mega-rich and have no intention of surrendering any of their Kardashian kitsch. To quote Churchill sardonically, 'Never was so much owed by so many to so few.

A song for an Angel Face

Looking at some tramps in cider park i feel sorry for the poor starving pets as their masters swill down cider and they shiver in the cold , the musing is seen and spoken through the eyes of the dog . 

A short story about a devout Christian who after living like a mendicant monk all his life arrives in into the after life only to be met by Stalin one of the greatest mass murderers of all time.

Musing about Lord Kitchener, whose saber-rattling speeches turned into sermons that garnered rapturous applause in Whitehall and Westminster. Unfortunately, his young, inexperienced soldiers were dying at a rate of 6,000 a day. He had "avoid wine and women" printed into their guidebooks for war, referring to French prostitutes. With a life expectancy of only 17 hours, contracting a little pox would have been the least of their worries.