Ude to Vul Doonicun

(No I don't know what an "ude" is either. But the "O" was used up,
and I'm b******d if I'm going to start another list. I don't even know
why I started this one. Maybe it's the wine.)

Ode to Val Doonican

Does anyone these days remember Val Doonican?
His show used to be on in the afternoonican.
At Christmas especially, but even in Junican -
Now there was a man who could belt out a tunican.

He was so attractive, the women would swoonican;
There were none that to his Irish charm were immunican.
In his old rocking-chair he would quietly croonican
To a background of cardboard trees and a painted moonican.

With girls in white dresses his show he'd festoonican:
Some looking quite brazen, and others jejunican.
They all gazed at him hoping he'd notice them soonican
(He didn't look anything like a baboonican).

To the whole female sex Val was always a boonican,
Though men said he was just another buffoonican
Who showed less signs of life than old Tutankhamunican;
And his rocking-chair they'd mercilessly lampoonican.

But to all women everywhere, from Cork to Rangoonican,
Val was always a god, even more than Neptunican.
As he sat in his rocking-chair singing a tunican,
How I wished he'd be carried off by a typhoonican.

PS Does anyone else find that when you take a load of washing to the
launderette, there's always a fish in it?