27th Nov – I like pork, I like cheese, maybe I’m a little bit Portuguese.

Listening to that meretricious nonsense was utter torture. If only I had some knitting needles close by, I could have driven them into my ears.

Aug 19th (девятнадцатое августа) – Shoot me the pot and I’ll pour me a shot.

Not bad enough to be so bad it's good; not good enough to be bad.

Aug 12th – On me your voice falls as they say love should, like an enormous yes.

I've had a preview of his (he's in the revision stage now) and I was disheartened to see that he has latched on to the same awful trope of the bad poem as me - the pun. He has based his rhyme around craic and crack. I must say, it's promisingly bad.