Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Tommy Tucker

A poem following a prompt from new follower, PhilipH.tanx ye Phil!

Little Tommy Tucker
was an ugly little fucker,
his mother, the old hag,
made him wear a paper bag,
his schoolmates took the piss
saying, 'Oi! Just look at this!'
But Tommy had the last laugh
Coz he stabbed them all.

Prizes beckon, cheques a plenty, more and greater and more ,OOh and AAhh and Oh! the glory of me , myself and I , look at me Ma, Twat of the world!!

21 comments:

Uiscebot said...

now we're talking TFE!

PhilipH said...

Thank you, Mr. Totalfeckineejit, I like it. It does, however, seem somewhat different from that which I first heard when I was five.

Think it went sumfink like diss:

Little Tommy Tucker sings for his supper,
What shall we give him? Brown bread and butter.
How shall he cut it without a knife?
How shall he marry without a wife?

Your updated version is much more meaningful today.

Thanks again!
Phil

Niamh B said...

That's it, the power has gone to your head Eejit... It was bound to happen.

Jeanne Iris said...

Is this a prompt for our next assignment, TFE?

Argent said...

HAHAHAHA!!! Love it! Is this next week's challenge?

Totalfeckineejit said...

Yes ,uiscebot, but what the feck are we saying?

Totalfeckineejit said...

Phil, I was close, I knew it had knives in it somewhere.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Niamh,Absolut Vodka corrupts absolutely.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Jeanne, no.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Still working on it :)Fiendish grin and manic wringing of hands.

Totalfeckineejit said...

But all the same ye all should have a go- start with the line Little Tommy Tucker and see where ye go!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Argent. See above! (Will try to post proper assignment tommorow. :)

Dominic Rivron said...

I wasn't forced to wear a paper bag to school but I had to wear a homemade balaclava, which was almost as bad.

:)

Totalfeckineejit said...

Hey Dominic, if you are as old as me (86) you might remember the two ronnies(i think) singing...

Get a tight one
look a right one
Ba-la-clava

(to the tune of the Martini ad- It's the bright taste ,it's the right taste, it's Martini.)

Rachel Fox said...

Oh Dominic! And we all thought Weaver was a good woman!
x

Heather said...

What a delightful little poem and what a charming child you must have been to grow into the man we all know and love!! Are you sure you have only just written it, and that it wasn't in the back of your exercise book from 30 or so years ago? I have a reputation as a dear old lady to uphold so I can't compete with that next Monday. Just got back from flying to the moon with Frank - thankyou for that.

aleph said...

a poem to be recited and repeated (as as if one was 5 and playing alone on the street after the terrible school hours), jumping at the speed of punk chords, a good glass of Absolute Vodka instead of milk on the table... Then go to sleep, exhausted (mum reading Dickens´Great Expectations before kissing good night and dreaming about knifes starts before closing the eyes)

the watercats said...

hahaah!.. I think I remember him
:-P

Totalfeckineejit said...

I was a lovely child Heather, far too good for this world.Come back onto the bus we have pictures galore, Tommy was just a little detour!Your reputation is bullet proof, worry ye not!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Aleph, the skool hours were indeed terrible were they not?

Totalfeckineejit said...

Watercats, you remember a fig roll of my imagination? Now I'm worried!