Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
RIP Pierre
RIP Pierre Monsieur Cardin Popped le clogs Il est dans le jardin Avec ses chiens Designer Cardin Popped his clogs He is in the garden With his dogs.
Dauphy: Pierre Cardin, the colourful French designer has died?
Hobbo: Yesterday.
Dauphy: Very sad. Popped les clogs! That’s not French!
Hobbo: No, but it’s funny.
Dauphy: You think so? I have my reputation to think about. Popped les clogs!
Not to be confused with his English cousin and arbiter of bad taste (including patron saint of civil servants), The Earl of Cardigan.
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😂Indeed not!
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😂😂😂
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I think you’ll find the correct terminology is ‘Il a poppé son clogs’ – Del Boy
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😂Very clever mon petit chou!
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Dauphy is right (don’t let on I said so) but I was prepared… “RIP” Hmm. Must be sad, so a slurp of coffee would be okay. No, this is PM Hobbo, best mind yourself, keep the keyboard dry. Aha! You thunked you’d get me. (You did, but my keyboard remains safe.) Sad affair for anyone’s passing, though.
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😂😂Nicely put again, young man!
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Deadly fashion. Ohhh my!
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Mon Dieu! San fairy Ann!
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😁
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It’s does to those en Vogue!
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Popped his clogs… hehe, love it. Though I probably shouldn’t have laughed quite so hard at a memorial post. Couldn’t help it. Great expression!
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Thank you!
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