Already a subscriber? Log in
Thank you to those who sent seasonal good wishes and to all competitors for a seemingly inexhaustible stream of knockout wit and gobsmacking skill. Merry Christmas!
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
Twelve Paxos smirking
Eleven Murrays choking
Ten Hoffs imploding
Nine Brucies kneeling
Eight Wogans twinkling
Seven Beckhams bending
Six Clarksons sneering
Five Russell Brands
Four Stephen Frys
Three Jack Dees
Two Susan Boyles
And a 42” plasma tv
Basil Ransome-Davies
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
Twelve tabloids hacking,
Eleven bankers stealing,
Ten drillers fracking,
Nine economies reeling,
Eight wars beginning,
Seven MPs sinning,
Six press aides spinning
Five kinds of wrong,
Four corporate liars,
Three anxious buyers,
Two occupiers,
And Simon Cowell trashing this song.
Chris O’Carroll
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me,
Twelve bankers bingeing
Eleven lawyers laughing
Ten tented protests
Nine statesmen sighing
Eight eviction orders
Seven papers prying
Six leaders leaving
Five Arab Springs,
Four budget cuts
Three lost years
Two eurozones
And an IOU for next year’s tree.
Tim Raikes
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
Twelve twerpish twitters,
Eleven Xmas e-cards,
Ten texted titbits,
Nine needless nudges,
Eight aimless emails,
Seven raucous ringtones,
Six garbled greetings,
Five avatars;
Four emoticons,
Three websites,
Two facebook friends
And an app that cost 99p.
Frank Upton
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me
Twelve Dalai Lamas
Eleven Simon Schamas
Ten cocky cockneys
Nine knock-off Hockneys
Eight prima donnas
Seven Des O’Connors
Six New Year Honours
Five Cliff CDs
Four prosthetic arms
Three wind farms
Two unlucky charms
And a Speccie subscription — free.
Mike Morrison
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me:
Twelve smelly candles,
Eleven(?) clip-on earrings,
Ten awful jigsaws,
Nine New Look vouchers,
Eight Clacton tea towels,
Seven smiley key-rings,
Six bras (the wrong size),
Five skimpy thongs,
Four scent-free soaps,
Three CDs,
(Two of which I’ve got) —
and I’m busy recycling the lot!
Jayne Osborn
NO. 2729: sing a song of…
You are invited to recast a well-known nursery rhyme, filtering it through the lens of a recent news story (eg. Hey diddle diddle the MPs they fiddled…). Max. 16 lines. Please email entries, where possible, to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 4 January.
Also in Society
Also by Lucy Vickery
Latest
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in