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Madame Plastique is getting a lot of coverage at the moment, the normal 'I've got a book out' shite! So here's a reminder of a little ode I wrote a few months back! The Ballad Of Carol V ------------------------ Carol V, that Countdown girl, Was once a normal lassie. She bantered with that Whiteley bloke, You could say she was sassy. Doing sums and spelling words Were Carol’s key to fame. If only she’d kept doing that, It really is a shame. While at her height, by flogging loans, She earned some extra dosh. A pretty face, folk trusted her. So nice and not too posh. But time wore on, and things wore out And Carol thought “Oh God, My arse can’t twerk, I need some work” So Carol changed her bod. Now all was well, and life was swell, She’d even made new friends. That Boris J and David C, But that’s not how this ends. A few years on life quietened down, Things really weren’t the same. She struggled hard, to figure how To keep inside the frame. Now at that time the media Was full of Brexit stories. A brainwave hit, she said "That's it, I’ll just attack the Tories.” And from that day she hasn’t stopped. She's manic, mad and stressed. With glaring eyes and frothing mouth She’s like a thing possessed. Her old friends now were enemies. BJ, Big Dave et al Were in her sights, she knew her rights She thought she couldn’t fail. The hatred poured out hour by hour On LBC and Twitter. I’ve even heard she screams out hate When sitting on the shitter. But what of Caz in days ahead When Labour are in power? Who will she hate, insult, berate? Will she be much less sour? So watch out Keir, remember who Our Carol once befriended. Yes, David C and Boris J And look how that all ended. The moral of this story is You won’t engender trust If all you do is chop and change Your friends, your arse and bust. #OCAROL