the weekly

Gordon In Space

I wish I could soar like a spaceman,
On a missile, a booster, a rocket,
And fly for a year and a day's span,
Paracetamol packed in my pocket.

I know I've a top-of-the-league brain,
And can mend the economy's mess,
But although I might suffer a migraine,
It could offer relief from distress:

Yes, to travel from planet to planet,
To hop from the Moon, off to Mars –
It can't be more stressful than Earth, can it?
I wish I could dance with the stars.

With a laser-gun locked in my holster,
And some Nurofen stored in my pod,
I'd evade every pundit and pollster.
I'd feel power, consulting with God.

I could sleep! Ah, the sound of it's snuggly.
I might travel through time, and, perhaps,
Though I came back as short, fat and ugly,
Sort the banks out before they collapse.

Oh yes, I'd have shrunk, suffered hair-loss,
Be a pill-popping cause for much laughter.
But the bankers would know me as their boss,
So we'd all live on happily after.

Plump up my favourite cushion:
Rest my head on my antimacassar.
There is space in my diary. Let's push on.
Let Barack put a word in with NASA.

Read the Telegraph story about space headaches here

Read the Telegraph story about the effects of space travel here

Read Bill's daily 'Bill Posters' blog by clicking here

Gordon In Space
Space travel causes headaches; and protracted space travel will leave astronauts 'short, fat and ugly', according to two separate studies. Gordon Brown continued to face down suggestions that he should resign as Prime Minister.
9 June 2009


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