This post is just a loving tribute to Sir Terry Wogan, who retires today from the Breakfast Show on Radio 2, so apologies to you non-Togs out there; you won't know what I'm talking about!
Marathon Runner has written a poem:
Twas brillig and the slithy Togs
Did gripe and grumble with the Woge
All mimsy was the Boggymarsh
And the morning rants outgrabe
Beware the Jabberingwoge my Son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch
Beware the Grubgrub bird, and shun
The frumious Barrelansnatch
He ate his vittles, fork in hand
Long time the Clarkish pies he sought
So rested he by the Blanketyblank Tree
And stood awhile in Splot
And, as in toggish thought he stood
The Jabberingwoge, with eyes all red
Came wittering through the early morn
And burbled all the same
One, two, one, two, rehearsing through and through
This dashing blade had a snorker-snack
He left one for Deadly and with his head
He carried on guzzling back
And hast they slain the Jabberingwoge?
Not bleedin' likely, I'm an Irish boy!
I'm on a Sunday! Callooh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy
Twas brillig and the Togs all love
Old Boggy, Deadly and the Woge
Dear Franny and the girl from Splot
And the morns won't sound the same
Sir Tel read it out on Wednesday and said it was "wonderful".
There's no living with Marathon Runner now!
Good Luck Sir Terry! How I will miss you!