Wumbeevil the Booneristic Speetle
Wumbeevil lives in Glasgow, Scotland, a city famed for . . . err, nothing much. In fact it could probably be wiped off the map and no outsider would notice. The residents would wake up in the morning hungover, look around at green fields, and say, "Awnaw, werrinhellimma, Cumbernauld?"
Wumbeevil was spawned in October 1957 as a result of the coupling of his parents several months earlier after a drunken Burns night party - "Wee, sleekit timorous beastie gonyerselweeman gerrinrerr". This great age entitles Wumbeevil to add the BOF (Boring Old Fart) appendage to his name, but he much prefers to use his BSc (Blootered Scot) appendage as this reminds him of four years of drunkenness he can't remember. He was doing Applied Kronenbourg and Pernod at Glasgow Caledonian University in the 80s. So if anyone had the misfortune to run into him, please contact him with details as to how he ended up married, and which b*$!**d(s) consummated it.
Wumbeevil has stayed married to the long-suffering Wummenbeevil ever since, but for the sake of humanity, has decided not to spawn a next generation of Weewumbees. If only his parents had done the same, the world would be a better place, with more cheeseburgers, pizzas, curries and alcohol for the truly needy.
This page looks best in Classic Goo or Alabaster
...... with both eyes closed
The Bots Guards perform the Pooping of the Colour Ceremony to celebrate the birth of a WumbeevilThe only Honest Scottish Site on the Net
"Jimmy McNulty's Bonnie Scotland"
(but now you're gonna have to do a search for it)
"I thoroughly enjoyed the poetry" - Mother Theresa
"Even I'm not allowed to use the 'C' word" - Eric Cartman
"You cant" - The cast of Eastenders
"Baaa" - Brenda
Glasgow, The Sewage Works at The Rear End of The Universe
Give me your mad, your poor,Your underclasses, yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the Buckie-drinking, sobriety-lost to me,
And we'll send them straight back, to rot in Glasgow.
Yes, even if they are White Caucasian refugees,
Uncle Sam ain't that friggin' desperate you know.
Emma Lazarus - The First Drafts.
A Glasgow Prayer
Our Buckie,Which art in bottles,
And half-bottles of the same.
Thy wine be drunk,
In parks as it art on corners.
Give us this day our daily sore head,
And forgive us our incontinence,
As we forgive those who pish in empties,
And lead us not into drinking them,
But deliver us from their contents.
For thine is the fine wine,
The Buckfast without the boaky.
Forever hungover,
Amen.
Ifitsabitta kultchir yurrefter in Glesga . . .
Glasgow
by William McGonagall
(1830-1902, oh mighty moderator, or are you removing Shakespeare as well?)
....and yes that was the first time McGonagall has been compared with Shakespeare! Beautiful city of Glasgow, with your streets so neat and clean,
Your stately mansions, and beautiful Green!
Likewise your beautiful bridges across the river Clyde,
And on your bonnie banks I would like to reside.
Then away to the West -- to the beautiful West!
To the fair city of Glasgow that I like the best,
Where the river Clyde rolls on to the sea,
And the lark and the blackbird whistle with glee.
'Tis beautiful to see ships passing to and fro,
Laden with goods for the high and the low,
So let the beautiful city of Glasgow flourish,
And may the inhabitants always find food their bodies to nourish.
The statue of the prince of Orange is very grand,
Looking terror to the foe, with a truncheon in his hand,
And well mounted on a noble steed, which stands in Trongate,
And holding up its foreleg, I'm sure it looks first-rate.
Then there's the Duke of Wellington's statue in Royal Exchange Square
It is a beautiful statue I without fear declare,
Besides inspiring and most magnificent to view,
Because he made the French fly at the battle of Waterloo.
And as for the statue of Sir Walter Scott that stands in George Square,
It is a handsome statue --- few can with it compare,
And most elegant to be seen,
And close beside it stands the statue of Her Majesty the Queen.
Then there's the statue of Robert Burns in George Square,
And the treatment he received when living was very unfair;
Now when he's dead, Scotland's sons for him do mourn,
But, alas! unto them he can never return.
Then as for Kelvin Grove, it is most lovely to be seen,
With its beautiful flowers and trees so green,
And a magnificent water-fountain spouting up very high,
Where the people can quench their thirst when they feel dry.
Beautiful city of Glasgow, I now conclude my muse,
And to write in praise of thee my pen does not refuse;
And, without fear of contradiction, I will venture to say
You are the second grandest city in Scotland at the present day!
My Little Poemsies
by Wumbeevil (1957-2194)
Special thanks go to McGonagall, Little Behemoth and Draeven for their inspiration. I mention the latter two in particular because there is no way they would ever want to be associated with this
The Clockwork Orange
Oh wonderful Glasgow SubwayYour trains go round and round
Transporting citizens in comfort
On your seats, orange and brown
Through the bowels of the earth
You run, like a laxative electric
Taking commuters through Glasgow's guts
With motion peristalsic.
And there at every station
Where passengers will alight
A blast of wind announces your approach
Like a fart heralds a shite.
Each day I put my trust in thee
Being late for work, it maddens
And never have you broken down
'Twixt Partick and Cowcaddens.
Whether going to work, to shop,
Or even to the pub say
Nothing will ever beat the thrill of
Travelling on Glasgow's Subway
Infernal Bogey
At the top of my left nostrilWhere the hairs grow wild and free
There's stuck a little bogey
Who won't come down for me.
I've poked and I've prodded
Tugged tweezers with all my might
But the only thing that'll shift him
Is two tons of dynamite.
I've snorted nitroglycerine
Then banged my head on the wall
But the little bastard's still up there
And my brain's now in Nepal.
So I beg of you dear reader
With solutions don't hold back
Please help a starving orphan child
Taste his homegrown snack.
Wumbeevil has also been known to disguise himself as a female, six foot chicken at weekends to increase his chances of pulleting. If any other fowl creatures want to contact him, he can be found sitting on an egg and breaking it at [email protected]
Latest Messages
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Wumbeevils are like onions | Dec 5, 2013 |
Your entry has been submitted to 'Peer Review' | Oct 3, 2006 |
The BOF Inn.... | Aug 6, 2005 |
Draeven | May 11, 2005 |
Wumbe!!! | Jul 16, 2004 |
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