It seems that some doctors of spin,
Are teaching the Blueshirts to win,
At online debate,
By accepting their fate,
And taking it all on the chin.
John Moynes
It seems that some doctors of spin,
Are teaching the Blueshirts to win,
At online debate,
By accepting their fate,
And taking it all on the chin.
John Moynes
News like this can make me swear,
When delivering free GP care,
Runs into some flaw,
To do with the law,
And the plan takes the shape of a pear.
John Moynes
(Sasko Lazarov/Photocall Ireland)

So Shatter has pardoned the men,
Who went overseas with a Bren,
Submachine gun,
To take on the hun,
They can hold their heads high once again.
John Moynes
Pic via GombeenNation

Our heroine, dressed as the Queen,
Went out last week to intervene,
When a bunch of young bums,
Were banging their drums,
Off the stage she can still cause a scene.
John Moynes
(BBC)

Bertrand Russell (top), Bodger’s idle idol, rejecting an invitation to meet Oswald Mosley.
Had to have hurt.
Via Guy Walters
Let the bosses all shiver with dread,
Leave no Marxist nostrum unsaid,
And give thanks for this day,
At the dawning of May,
When we really can paint the town red.
John Moynes
(CitizensRepublic)

If you have an office trainee,
And you’re sending them off to make tea,
Make sure they review,
The correct things to do,
Which would look good upon their CV.
John Moynes
A poem.
Let’s worship the men of the Lockout,
And praise the things that Larkin said,
The tramworkers all are now heroes,
They’re heroes because they are dead.
Spare a thought for those men on that brave day,
When they stood before Murphy’s dread rage,
Then shut up and bring me my latté,
Or I’ll lower your minimum wage.
It baffles me now that mere workers,
Once could purchase a house or a car,
It’s time to clamp down on those shirkers,
We have to, we are where we are.
We’ll have no more talk of progressing,
To this one truth we’ll always hold fast,
That union men are a blessing,
As long as they stay in the past.
John Moynes
(Sam Boal/Photocall Ireland)
It should not come as a surprise,
That this topic would soon polarise,
Two political mobs,
Who would all risk their jobs,
As they can’t be seen to compromise.
John Moynes
(Laura Hutton/Photocall Ireland)
So ninety percent of our flats,
Aren’t fit to be houses for rats,
They’re dingy and cold,
And covered in mould,
And lack room for the swinging of cats.
John Moynes
(Daft)