Category: rhyme

Bake a Victoria Sponge to Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’

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a mirrorball with the words disco biscuits

The disco smash ‘I Will Survive’ took the world by storm when it was released in 1978. Hoards of brokenhearted souls put down their tear-infused bottles of Blue Nun, and went stomping out onto the dancefloor for a glorious display of funky-fuelled empowerment. Written by Dino Ferakis and Freddie Perren, and originally a B-side, the exquisite powerhouse vocals of goddess Gloria Gaynor makes this classic track as popular now than ever. And what better accompaniment to an uplifting anthem than the sweet taste of a jam and cream cakey-sandwich, so today with Ms Gaynor’s guidance, we shall be making a delicious Victoria Sponge.
Ingredients are listed at the end.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified,
Then I greased and lined two sandwich tins and put them to one side,
I preheated the oven to gas mark 4, that won’t take long,
And I got tongs,
But then I realised that was wrong.

I stuck them back, into their place,
And put a wooden spoon and mixing bowl on a flat and clean workspace,
I broke the eggs there with a knock,
Combined ingredients with glee,
Using butter, marg, or ‘baking spread’, it’s all the same to me.

Go on now, go,
Pour sugar, pour,
Then baking powder,
Self-raising flour, that’s for sure,
With a spoon or ‘lectric whisk, now thoroughly combine,
This isn’t crumble,
And it’s really not a pie.

Once liquefied,
In tins divide,
I found myself an oven glove, onto the middle shelf they slide,
I’ve not even used my sieve, how many minutes should I give?
It’s twenty-five,
Yes, twenty-five,

Way-hay!

Let them cool off in their tins or else they’ll fall apart,
Turn out onto a wire tray, two golden works of art,
I slap the jam on one and spread, while I’m singing to myself,
Oh don’t be shy, just pile that whipped cream nice and high.

Now you see me, and sponge number two,
I place it on the top and sprinkle caster sugar, ooh,
If someone feels like dropping in, hoping for a spot of tea,
I will tell them, “here’s the recipe, I’m saving this for me,”

Go on now, go.

Ingredients
Use two 20cm/8” sized sandwich tins.
Serves: 12 (apparently, but I’d say more like 4)

4 eggs
225g/8oz caster sugar, plus some for dusting
225g/8oz self-raising flour
1 tsp baking powder
225g/8oz butter/marg/baking spread, room temperature, plus some for greasing tins
Strawberry or raspberry jam
Whipped double cream

Join me next time when I’ll be making a pineapple upside-down cake with Barry White.

Jabberwocky Vs The Hair Fairy

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a red and white haired spectre in the dark

You thought the Jabberwock was scary,
With jaws that bite, and claws that catch,
Do you not know the vile Hair Fairy,
Who in the night, attacks your thatch?

In corners of your dark bedroom,
Until you sleep, she lingers,
So to create hairstyles of doom,
With her greasy wizened fingers.

Beware the Hair Fairy my dear,
In twilight hours, sleep ensconced,
With spiteful glee and heinous cheer,
She makes evil on your bonce.

How I’ve suffered her ghastly taunts,
Wreaking havoc with a hair-do,
I’ve woken up with odd bouffants,
A ‘Don King’, and ‘Kajagoogoo’.

Balding gents whose locks once shone,
She’s been at you for years!
Plucking each hair with scaly tongue,
To glue them in your ears.

That gravity-defying flagpole,
A mullet on your wedding day,
Horrific frizz, gel can’t control,
You know now who’s to blame.

So beware the Hair Fairy my friend,
For when you think you’re safe in bed,
The back-comber of Beelzebub,
Is committing crimes against your head.

View at Medium.com

An Ode to When the Letter U Popped Off my Laptop Keyboard and Disappeared

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the letter U from my laptop keyboard

I thought that I’d lost U, but U were right there,
Just under the table, by the leg of the chair,
I was indignant. How could U leave me this way?
Until the sad realisation of who’s really to blame.

It was late, I was tired, writing something for work,
Constant power cuts were driving me almost berserk,
Though intermittent crap Wi-Fi should be no excuse,
For me to go crazy and start shouting abuse.

On the third time of ‘lights out’, I yelled like a klaxon,
Using words more befitting of Samuel L. Jackson,
In my darkened despair, I threw the mouse in my hand,
With instant regret at the loud cracking sound.

When the lights came back on, I looked at the place,
Where U lived on my keyboard, was now empty space,
I thought of life without U, and the time I would waste,
Trying to replace U using copy and paste.

So happy to find U, yet I felt quite ashamed,
And although reunited, U just weren’t the same,
Once I coaxed U back home, things didn’t feel right,
Without warning U would pop off, disappearing from sight.

I sought professional help for U, me, and the laptop,
We went to Mr Lim Kong at the local Tech Shop,
I told him what happened, I’d been driven quite mental,
“But it’s your laptop”, he told me, “you have to be gentle”.

I admitted to Lim how I’d been such a fool,
As he asked in amazement, “But.. did you use glue???!”,
He managed to get us working together again,
And with new found respect, U and I become friends.

Now, when my patience is tested, I just look at U,
Still now a bit wonky with shiny remnants of glue,
I’m reminded there’s no good in anger and shouting,
Being a dick, throwing things, sulking and pouting.

Though life’s crappy days may sometimes be long,
Not all broken things can be fixed by Mr Lim Kong,
This lesson with U has taught me how to be calmer,
And now in times of distress, I channel The Great Dalai Lama.