Christmas is coming, my arse is getting fat, but please remind me to pack my old Dutch cap. That’s right folks, at last, we’re nearly there.
The turkey is well and truly stuffed, the pigs are in their blankets, the chestnuts are roasting on an open fire, Home Alone is in the DVD player and some of you have even managed to send me some presents.
All that is left now, is the Christmas sing-song. Come, you can’t beat a bit of carol singing, can you?
So, with apologies to John Mason Neale and Thomas Helmore, please join with me and sing the Busty Idol tribute to Good King Wenceslaus…
Good Queen Lloyd James he look’d out, on a feast of data;
Where’s our bonus his staff said… ‘we don’t want it later’
Brightly shone his frock that night, though the comments were cruel,
When Jeremy Whittaker came in sight, they fled astride a mule…
Off to London they did plod, whistling the ‘Gay Gordon’,
And then they thought they had seen God, but it was just Mike Lordon,
There he sat upon his thrown, as head of DMA operations,
Oh but little did he know, he was paying for the celebrations…
All the gang they joined the crowd, as it gathered pace,
Chris, Rachel, Janet and Tristian, and someone who was off their face,
The council could not make the choice, whether to join or not,
The DMA with a single voice? Nope, another meeting shot…
Then they moved onto agency land, but everyone was pissed,
No Andrews, Mitchell or Atkinson, will they be sorely missed?
They’ll be back without a doubt, and so will Bobby Mayes
We’re missing long agency lunches, especially the drunked haze…
And finally they came upon, DecisionMarketing towers,
There they met the lovely Busty, who demonstrated her powers,
Christmas joy was spread at last, although she had the onus,
Because after brandy and cigars, everyone got a Busty Bonus…
HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!
