Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat
Or, I should say, the chicken… Michelle gets fatter, more articulate, and more attractive with every episode of Big Brother I watch.
While I’m talking poetry, I think this is a genuine Haiku, although it’s too dialectical to be a good one:
Pork-pie hats at work
The forecast predicted rain
Trendies with dry heads
It also owes rather too much to Alistair’s anonymous text contributor.
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