Julie Rosenfield

My journal


For those of you who have known us forever

And think we have always been together

But wonder, sometimes, was there even ever

Anyone else? I’ve made up this list, just for whoever ….


Each one in turn, by their own means and ends

Ended it all with “Can’t we be friends?”

* * *

The bar man who called: “Last orders please.”

The apiarist who preferred his bees

The archbishop who then defrocked me

The lighting man who went volt-face: that shocked me

* * *

The Reader’s Digest fan who cancelled his subscription

Psychic Russell Grant, “No future” was his prediction

The Frenchman who, in the end, just called out ‘Fin’

The removal man who finally unloaded me from his van

* * *

The film fan who declared: “The End”

John Ketley who was but a fairweather friend.

The campanologist who rang “Time’s up” on his bell

The pudding maker who said we just didn’t gel.

* * *

The clockmaker who, at last, called time.

The poet who could find neither reason nor rhyme

The doctor who curtly signed me off

The sports man who actually preferred Frank Bough

* * *

The cardiologist who broke my heart

The papier mache fan who tore me apart

The musician who, with a bow, ended our set

The tennis fan who yelled, ‘Game, Set …No match yet’

* * *

The breakfast fan who declared me ‘Toast’

The Brighton man who fled to the coast

The calendar collector who called it a day

The caber tosser who chucked me and ran away.

* * *

The laundry worker who threw in the towel

“And it’s a No from me,” said Simon Cowell.

The bank manager who closed my account.

The vampire fan who preferred Dracula: out for the count

* * *

The banana dessert fan, who in the end, just split

The owl fancier who flew off – oh, what a Too-wit!

The horse groomer who didn’t care one bit

The jigsaw fan who said we did no longer fit

* * *

The Avon man – ding dong – who did not call

The Red Sea fan, who parted with me, after all

The Chippendale who I would not tease

The perfectionist who I could not please

* * *

The politician who voted with his feet

The confectioner who no longer found me sweet

The conductor who said I’d lost the beat

Gordon Ramsay who just couldn’t take the heat

* * *

Lord Alan Sugar – of course, I was fired

Banksy, the artist, said I no longer inspired

Dragon’s Den’s Duncan just said, “I’m out”

As did the priest who had started to doubt

* * *

The hairdresser who simply brushed me aside

The fairground worker who took me for a ride

The glass-blower who just blew me out

The cheerleader too: all he did was shout

* * *

The ballroom dancer who waltzed away

The dog-trainer who just wouldn’t ‘Stay’

The marathon runner who yelled: ‘Personal worst’

The artist who shouted, “Get stuffed” – Damian Hirst.

* * *

The London Cabbie who denied all knowledge

The ex-prisoner, who had just done porridge

The musician who found me out of tune

The bouncer who asked me to leave the room

* * *

The Monopoly player who said I didn’t stand a Chance.

The cyclist who pedalled off: Mr Armstrong, Lance

Paul McKenna, who said I did no longer en-trance

Anton du Beke who said, strictly, ‘Let’s not dance.’

* * *

The commentator who said, “It’s all over”

The dog walker who really rather preferred Rover

The jeweller who refused to give me a ring

The commitment-phobe who just cried out: “No strings”

* * *

The Sudoku fan who lost my number

The veggie man who preferred cucumber

The Scrabble fan who did not return my letters

Richard Branson who said he only liked jet-setters

* * *

The optician who no longer wanted to see me

The bondage fan who  decided to free me

The health inspector who, with a sigh, closed me down.

The Botox fan who just left without a frown

* * *

The publisher who kept rejecting me

The coach who stopped selecting me.

The refuse man who refused me

The teacher who excused me

* * *

The Facebook fan who unfriended me.

The binman who upended me

The head-teacher who suspended me

The soldier who surrendered me

* * *

The fireman who burned me

The equestrian who spur-ned me

The road digger who ditched me

The broadband fan who switched me

* * *

The recycling fan who swopped me

The juggler who dropped me.

The traffic policeman who stopped me

The lumberjack who chopped me

* * *

The orienteer who lost me

The salad fan who tossed me

The Frisbee fan who threw me

The film critic who did boo me.

* * *

The disposal man who dumped me

The wrestler who thumped me

The rider who found the going tough

And the minimalist who simply cried: “ENOUGH!”

* * *

But, did all these rejections make me cry, “Alack?”
No. like my present guy, the trampolinist, I just bounced back!


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