Chris Tucker felt a real sucker.
He’d been in the queue for an hour or two
And barely moved an inch.
So he joined the one to his right,
Then, yep, the original queue moved alright
And he tutted: “Damn, that stinks.”
© Carl Burkitt 2018
Chris Tucker felt a real sucker.
He’d been in the queue for an hour or two
And barely moved an inch.
So he joined the one to his right,
Then, yep, the original queue moved alright
And he tutted: “Damn, that stinks.”
© Carl Burkitt 2018
Transfer deadline day makes me think of you.
Late nights drinking in your memory
over news coming through of ridiculously over-priced moves.
Clubs losing their stars like we lost ours,
fans reluctantly told to move on.
But this year things have changed.
They moved the date forward from your birthday
to the middle of August
and made Premier League teams
finalise things before the new year began.
But the lower league lot still have tonight.
So while the big wigs sleep tight,
Swindon will be up all night
toasting a ’keeper they wish they held on to.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
Cameron Diaz
Went for a waz.
It was fine.
Just a normal wee.
Seriously.
Shut up.
Stop being nosy!
© Carl Burkitt 2018
Chris Hadfield missed space,
So he painted his bedroom walls black,
Popped a bucket on his head
And ate liquidised food in bed.
But it just wasn’t the same,
So he called up NASA
And asked if they’d strap a rocket to his house.
They wouldn’t.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
The baker threw all his cakes
away and started all over again.
The new batch was revolting.
‘Perfect,’ he thought.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
All of the people were happy.
According to each other.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
Julia downed her bottle of red wine.
She felt wonderful and went back to answering the phones.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
The man got his face tattooed on to his face.
A much older version of his face, though.
He did it as an experiment to see if anyone would notice or say anything.
No-one said a thing.
In fact, no-one even went anywhere near him.
‘London’s so bloody antisocial,’ he thought.
© Carl Burkitt 2018
“Can I buy you a beer?”
“I don’t know, can you?!”
“Well, yes. Would you like one?”
“I don’t know if I’ll like it, I’ve not tasted it yet!”
“Right. I’m going to buy myself a beer. Shall I get you one?”
“Nah, I don’t drink.”
“Prick…”
© Carl Burkitt 2018