TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Air your views regarding the CH Old Blues' Association, what it's delivering and what it should/could deliver. A chance to get your voice heard on what you'd like from YOUR Association...

Moderator: Moderators

Post Reply
UserRemovedAccount
GE (Great Erasmus)
Posts: 194
Joined: Sat Dec 04, 2004 12:17 pm

TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Post by UserRemovedAccount »

People seldom see the hidden implications of hymns and carols, but this correspondence has recently been released by "A. Solicitor" to show that while everything appears wonderful on the surface, the hidden aspects are much less attractive.
------------------------
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS: The Hidden Story

December 26th
My Dearest Darling John,
What can I say? I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised. It was a bit difficult getting the tree into the flat and, of course, most people know that partridges live on the ground and not in trees, but, hey, anyone can make a mistake, especially if they are in love. With dearest love and affection,
Your very own true love,
Tootsie
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 27th
My darling,
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtle
doves ... I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift and of course, they love the tree you sent with the partridge. All three birds are just adorable.
All my love, my darling,
Tootsie
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 28th
Darling,
Oh, aren't you just so extravagant, but I must protest! I really don't deserve this latest generous gift – three French hens. They are just darling and, of course, they keep the partridge company on the carpet. You are just so kind to little old me,
Love
Maggie
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 29th
Dearest John,
Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Of course, practically nobody has a clue what a calling bird is, but you are so-o-o clever to know that it was originally a “collie bird” or what people nowadays call a blackbird. But what the hell, they look just cute on the tree with the turtle doves, the only trouble is the six of them are covering the carpet, the partridge and the three French hens with bird sh1t. They are all beautiful, but the place is beginning to smell a bit – don't you think enough is enough? You're being too, too romantic, but it has a price
Affectionately,
Margaret
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 30th
Dear John
What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for
each of the fingers on my right hand. You're just impossibly romantic, but I love it. But, true love also involves true honesty, John, and I have to admit that all these squawking birds are beginning to get on my nerves, and you must have known this when you chose these rings to take my mind off the noise and the mess. One ring would have been enough but you are such a gentleman and so kind that only five would do,
All my love,
Margaret
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 31st
John
When I opened the door today there were six geese actually a-laying on my front steps. So after a brief flirtation with rings, you're back with the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge and they are perpetually hungry and, in the way that Nature handles these matters, what goes in one end as sure as hell comes out at the other – and usually sooner rather than later. The neighbours are complaining about the noise, I can't get any sleep, the carpet is ruined and the smell is dreadful. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE – NO MORE. “CEASE AND DESIST” AS SHAKESPEARE USED TO SAY (or, if he didn’t, he damned well should have done).
Cordially (just)
Margaret
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 1st
Mr Jones,
And a Happy New Year to you, too. You really have a thing about birds, don’t you???? Now, I have got seven swans-a-swimming. What kind of joke is this? They are always hungry, the noise is deafening they won’t all fit in the bath at the same time and there's yet more birdshit all over the house. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep at night. John, it’s just not funny any more. So, please stop with those birds, OK?
Sincerely,
Margaret Smith
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 2nd
OK Buster
I know I asked you to stop with the birds, and at least you have listened to that, but what am I supposed to do with eight maids-a-milking? And let’s face it, you should have realized that if those eight maids are a-milking that meant that there had to be eight cows, as well, didn’t it – or did you overlook that minor detail? Luckily, although eight cows take up a lot of space I have managed got fit them on the lawn, but just like the birds inside, the maids may be a-milking, but the cows they sure are a-sh1t. John, just lay off, OK?
M. Smith
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 3rd
You ******!
Come on, admit it, you’re some kind of sadist, aren’t you? Now there's nine pipers playing and, boy, do they play! I now have the birds twittering, the swans honking, the cows mooing and the bl**dy pipers a-playing and in their marching they trip over the milking stools those bl**dy women brought with them and the whole lot of them walk all over the goose eggs. The mess – and the smell – is indescribable. It was all starting to get through to me, John, but then the pipers discovered the milkmaids and the parties of the first part stopped their piping and the parties of the second part stopped their milking but now there’s screeching and screaming from the girls and grunting from the pipers. Unfortunately, due to a planning oversight on your part, John , there are nine pipers and only eight milkmaids and the odd man out is giving me the eye. In fact, he’s coming after me now in a disturbing way.
Yours hurriedly,
M Smith (Miss)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 4th
You Creep!
I have just been forced to admit ten ladies dancing - I don't know why they want to dance, but they do. In the living room they splash among the birdshit, the broken eggs and the writhing bodes of the pipers and the milkmaids, and trip over the milking stools which nobody seems to want any more, and on the lawn there’s all the cows’ mess, but these stupid women (they’re certainly not ladies) just keep on with their bl**dy dancing. I escaped from the piper last night; what happened to him I have no idea. The neighbours have petitioned the council to have me evicted – is that what you wanted in the first place?
I'm putting the police on to you, you ******, and this time I really mean it,
M Smith (Miss)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 5th
You demented, twisted ******,
What's with the eleven lords a-leaping? Fortunately, the lords immediately leapt aboard the dancing ladies, which at least has stopped them dancing all around the place. So, now I’ve got eight pipers humping eight milkmaids and ten lords, of the formerly a-leaping variety, humping ten ladies of the formerly dancing variety. That leaves one piper and one lord, but luckily they are doing peculiar things to each other in a corner and not pestering me, which is, I suppose, a small mercy in the circumstances. But, on top of all that there are the 23 birds and the eight cows and as sure as hell, all 31 of them are crapping as hard as they can – is this what you mean by “true love”?
I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine.
Your sworn enemy,
M Smith (Miss)
Witnessed: Geoffrey Runne, Solicitor
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
January 6th
From Sue, Grabbitt and Runne, Solicitors

Dear Sir,
This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our most unfortunate client, Miss Agnes Smith. The destruction of her flat, and, indeed, of her life has been total and the mess in her flat and on the lawn has to be seen to be believed. Her neighbours are apoplectic with rage, the local Council has condemned the premises, the police are trying to arrest the milkmaids, pipers and lords for public indecency and our client for running a disorderly house, the RSPCA is seeking to arrest our client for cruelty to animals, and the Health and Safety Executive is taking her to court for what they describe as one of the worst environmental hazards they have ever encountered. If this is what you mean by “true love” then God help anyone you don’t like!
You are hereby required to deal only with us on this matter, and all future correspondence should be addressed to our office and not to the unfortunate Miss Smith. Should you attempt to reach our client, who is now located at the Happy Valley Sanatorium, we should warn you that the place is ringed by armed guards who have orders to shoot you, or any other human, animal or avian plague you may try to inflict on her, on sight. This letter is being delivered by a policeman who also has a warrant for your arrest.
Yours Faithfully,
G. Runne, Solicitor
for Sue, Grabbitt and Runne & Co

User avatar
englishangel
Forum Moderator
Posts: 6956
Joined: Mon Feb 07, 2005 12:22 pm
Real Name: Mary Faulkner (Vincett)
Location: Amersham, Buckinghamshire

Post by englishangel »

HO HO HO
"If a man speaks, and there isn't a woman to hear him, is he still wrong?"
Post Reply