Happy International Monday and other Silly Days Part One (of Three)

You may be glad to hear I am now stepping away from the poems. I tend to get on a roll with them. It’s like Tourette’s, where I just cannot help myself but without the cursing. However, given half a chance I can be as blue as the best of them.

So Happy International Monday. Isn’t it great that we can celebrate the fact that today is Monday across the world. And yes, I am being facetious as I do think that there are some ridiculous International Days celebrated. Here are some of my all-time favourites


  1. International Nose Picking Day. Snot what you might think……
  2. International talk like a pirate day. My personal fav. Although most Irish people talk like pirates in that we cannot pronounce the letter ‘R,’ without saying ‘Arrrrr,’ whereas the British say ‘Ore.’
  3. International Orgasm Day. (Ok, I made that one up.)
  4. Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day. Now, where was I? 1903 or 1803?
  5. National Nothing Day was proposed in 1972 by columnist Harold Pullman Coffin and observed in the United States annually on January 16 since 1973. I like that it is both obtuse and existentialist.
  6. Internation Breathe Day (Yup, another one that I made up).
  7. International Toilet Day (I am on another roll here, it seems- another makey up)


All the best

Stay fab


Doris the Sleepy Cow

Doris the Sleepy Cow



I love the cow in this video. She has no shame about not being in the humour to be milked. I can relate, not to not being milked but to not being arsed at times to do what I am supposed to do.

I make no apologies whatsoever for the dreadful puns. I figure because I wove them into a poem I can be excused. It’s a moooot point….Sorry, not sorry.



Sleepy Cow

What a cow! She has it sussed.

Faking being asleep to avoid being milked.

She is udderly preposterous

But there was CCTV, she didn’t realise she was being filmed.

The farmer had deja moo.

He had seen it before.

He knew it to be true.

That she found being milked a bore.

He said it’s pasture time for milking.

And the Cow was not amoosed.

With her big eyes blinking

It went in one ear and out the udder, and she went for another snooze.


Adele Leahy

Poem – My name is not Audrey

I am on a roll with writing silly poems. The bit about my therapist falling asleep and then calling me Audrey is true. As she was examining the inside of her eyelids I had to ask her if she was ok. I don’t think I am over it…….




My name is not Audrey



As a sea swimmer

I like to think I’m wild.

But those days are over

And now I am mild.

As I dive with glee into the sea

But my name is not Audrey.

How do you know a sea swimmer?

They will always tell you.

And wax lyrical about being cold and blue.

My name is Adele with one L and two E’s

And my name is not Audrey.

I don’t drink anymore

And it gets on people’s nerves.

They assume I am boring.

That I’ve lost my Vim and Verve.

That perhaps I can’t be happy

If my name is not Audrey.

The only pissed I get now is with my therapist

When she highlights my defects.

Which I can’t be fecked to address.

She fell asleep once and then called me Audrey.

I marvelled at her lack of tact and memory.

I am annoying.

My sense of humour

Is crass, and tawdry.

And my name is not Audrey.

I am imperfectly perfect.

Or so the affirmations proclaim.

But to be honest I can’t be fecked

Today with trying to filter my brain.

I woke up in shite form.

And the day has got steadily worse.

My dogs barked at everyone.

And my head is fit to burst.

The garbage bag then burst open.

And the seagulls circled me.

One pooped on my head.

And made me want to scream.

So I need to see my therapist

To deescalate my zenitis.

Maybe she will remember me

And recall that my name is not Audrey.


Adele Leahy

Poem- I Google therefore I am


I performed this poem for the first time last month and I received some lovely compliments. I hope you enjoy it too.





I Google therefore I am


I Google therefore I am.

But I am not a yam.

I am a peach.

But I digest.

I mean I digress,

My head today Is a floofy mess.


Back to googling

And doodling

And daydreaming

And playful scheming.

And some more daydreaming.

How do I create a


In the style of River Dance?

And how can I remove the freckles from my hands?

A giant panda

Chewing a carrot

Or a piece of juicy bamboo

Always elevates me

From feeling blue.

And then I’m back to the worry

As my mind is in a hurry.

And why are Orca’s attacking boats?

And is Yoga any good with baby goats?

Is Zenitis a thing or is it just me?

I just cannot meditate or achieve serenity.

I need Yeats and peace comes dropping slow.

And Maya and Still I rise to get me back in the flow.

This morning my weighing scale was mean.

My two dogs dislike my mood machine.

I hate Yoyo dieting: the string gets caught in my teeth.

I’m a devil for comfort eating ( nom, nom, nom), just to get release.

Do Doggiegasms exist?

This morning my dog could not desist

From rolling in poo, and doing it again and again.

His ecstatic, relentless joy. Oh, my dear best furry friend.


I Google therefore I am

But I am not a yam

I am a peach

But I digest

I mean I digress

My head today Is a floofy mess


Am I a narcissist or an empath?

Am I a narcissist for thinking I am an empath?

How old is Cher and why should I care?

She doesn’t need to turn back time

As she lives her life with such flair.

How can I publish my romantic comedy?

And why don’t agents get back to me?

Does a Smurf artist have a blue period

When they can no longer paint?

Am I the Captain of my Soul

And the Master of my fate?

How do I spell Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

Can a cheese and apricot jam sandwich really be delicious?

Is there a Wizard of Oz and do they live in Sydney?

How do Robins sing so beautifully?

Is it true that camels get Botox?

And if it doesn’t work do they get the hump?

Is focaccia an Italian curse?

And how do I cease this scrolling slump?

Is Fairy Liquid made from the souls of fairies when they die?

How can I perfect my yodelling, Yodel aye he hoo. Although It’s pretty good I can’t deny.

Do sloths have a tail and can dolphins really heal?

What colour is my aura and are my chakras real

I can get a walk in.

It is not too late.

I need to see the last

Of today’s light.

To marvel at the sun and

Wish it a good night.

To have sky for eyes.

And marvel at the trees.

Maybe I should stop googling

And be in nature.

My true nature

Is to be in nature.

I Google therefore I am

But I am not a yam

I am a peach

But I digest

I mean I digress

My head today Is a floofy mess



Adele Leahy