Skip to main content

Muttley's Lament

This won't mean much if you don't know me, but some of my friends (?) call me Muttley.... because apparently I have a tendency to grumble a bit. This ditty was penned to thank them all on my 60th birthday which we recently celebrated together at a chateau in the Loire .

So what's he got to moan about? Of what is he afraid?
His wife, his cash, his health, his looks, the fuckers got it made.
Why does he whine, what is his gripe when tantrums he doth throw?
Pin back you ears, listen carefully to this tale of Muttley woe.

He's driving down a country road, not Littleton it's plain,
When around a bend his brakes lock up. Those lycra twats again!
They're slow and wobble side by side. They really should be shown
The roads are meant for cars you sods - fuck off and find your own.

His kids are great but drive him mad, his wife is not impressed
He's ignored at best or shouted at when opinion is expressed.
The kids come first, no matter what, it's really not a myth
Thank god the dog has finally gone. His ranking now is fifth.

He's tried at golf. Oh how he tries. He's played so many rounds.
With so much practice, why does he go, so often out of bounds?
His garage is full of naughty clubs that punish pride and purse
The only thing that's keeps him playing is knowing that Paul is worse.

His motorbike and Corvette are signs he's reached that stage
Where the Vette gets all the attention and his helmet hides his age.
His clothes don't fit. He's on five two. It's years since he's had hair.
Heaven knows what it is that girls can't resist about that millionaire.

To all Dog's Dinners, fine bottles he brings. It's always a hassle it's clear.
Hounds know bugger all about wine. He could have brought Casal Garcia.
His Harlequins are not on form and England has a curse
For when his wife sits next to him, it makes them play far worse.

Muttley's innings has been longer, than Aussie cricketers
In fact it's been four hundred, and twenty in doggie years.
That's a bloody long time to be a miserable git, he must be stuck in a rut.
There's only two hundred and eighty years left, to become a more cheerful mutt.

So thank you all for celebrating, my 60th year with fine dining
Even if it is at the expense, of listening to more whining.
I'm really not a miserable git, but it doesn't stop me thinking
This is getting far too expensive and I need you to stop drinking.

I've said my piece and now you know why misery is my life.
But it's not all bad, there's some hair left and I've definitely got the best wife.
You've got used to my attempts at humour. You ignore all my pet hates
But despite all of this grumbling, I'm truly blessed with amazing mates.

Senilité, Depravité, Hilarité!


Popular posts from this blog

Phillips screws - yes I'm angry about them too

Don't get me wrong. They're a brilliant invention to assist automation and prevent screwdrivers from slipping off screw heads - damaging furniture, paintwork and fingers in the process. Interestingly they weren't invented by Mr Phillips at all, but by a John P Thompson who sold Mr P the idea after failing to commercialise it. Mr P, on the otherhand, quickly succeeded where Mr T had failed. Incredible isn't it. You don't just need a good idea, you need a great salesman and, more importantly, perfect timing to make a success out of something new. Actually, it would seem, he did two clever things (apart from buying the rights). He gave the invention to GM to trial. No-brainer #1. After it was adopted by the great GM, instead of trying to become their sole supplier of Phillips screws, he sold licenses to every other screw manufacturer in the world. A little of a lot is worth a great deal more than a lot of a little + vulnerability (watch out Apple!). My gromble is abo

Addictions. Porn, Drugs, Alcohol and Sex. Don't prevent it, make it safer.

In 1926 New York, during Prohibition, 1,200 people were poisoned by whiskey containing small quantities of wood alcohol (methanol). Around 400 died, the rest were blinded. The methanol they drank was in the moonshine they had bought illegally. In fact it had been added by law to industrial ethanol in order to make it undrinkable. Prohibition existed to protect everyone from the 'evils of the demon drink'. However, people still wanted to enjoy alcohol. So bootleggers bought cheap industrial alcohol and attempted to distill it to remove the impurities the state had added, but the process wasn't regulated. The state was inadvertently responsible for the suffering - although it was easy for them to blame the bootleggers and to justify escalating the war. This didn't stop the bootleggers. In fact it forced them to become more violent to protect their operations, and even less cautious about their production standards. Volumes of illicit alcohol, and therefore proportionat

Would we pay more for their stuff?

I'm confused. Brexiters argue the Germans, Italians and French will still want to sell us their cars, so continued free trade with the UK is in their best interests. But we'll have to negotiate this (with an EU unwilling to make leaving easy) by threatening to make their cars more expensive for British people to buy. We'll do this because WE need to make imports more expensive to try to restore our balance of payments. Are Brits prepared to pay more for their Audis, Fiats and Renaults in order to make British cars more appealing, or do Brexiters want to pay more in order to punish them for taxing our insurance and banking products? Either way, imports will cost more. While in the EU, we buy their cars because we like the choice and don't want our own government to tax them. Indeed it would be better for British car manufacturing if we went back to the good old days of being encouraged to buy cheaper British cars (made by foreign owned factories). Is that what Brexite