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What A Fella Will Do For A Good Irish Stew! . . . A house burglar in South London ignored a video recorder, mobile phones and other valuables – but stole a pan of Irish stew.  Clare Wilson, from Mitcham, made the dish for the next day's dinner, then left it on her oven and went to bed.  The next morning it had vanished, but nothing else had been taken.  Ms. Wilson, a mum of four, told The Sun: "I know my cooking is good but this is ridiculous.  It's unbelievable someone would just take a stew when all that stuff was lying about the place.  I'm considering putting out reward posters asking people if they've seen my stew pot.  I've been making stew for over 20 years in that pot, and I'm a bit annoyed.  I've got several others, but it was my favourite.  It's just the right size for all the family.  The thief must have tasted the food first because I found dollops of it around the top of the stove."  Ms. Wilson's sons, Brian, 20, and Scott, 19, swear they did not eat the stew after getting in from the pub – they had a kebab on the way home.  The back door had been forced open, so Ms. Wilson reported the crime to Mitcham police.  She said: "The thief should have just knocked on the door.  I'd have invited them along for dinner.  There would have been enough for everyone."


Sinkin' In That Stew by Homeless
(To any number of electic blues tunes)

I feel oh so hungry
Ain't had no food today.
After a week I'll eat any old thing
A shoe or a lump of clay.

But what's that smell I'm smelling?
What olfactory delight?
Can it be a tasty stew
That will set my stomach right?

I spied it thru the window
Just sitting on the stove
That old back door is there no more
After I give it a shove.

Chorus:
I wander the street With nothing to eat
My belly a vacuous hole.
But I found a treat, that's full of meat
Just hand me a big bowl
'Cause I'm sinking, sinking,
Into that Stew.

Wander thru the kitchen
Hope the woman's in her bed
while I Savor that luscious flavor
that's running thru my head.

Sneak up to the oven
and what's before my eyes?
An entire pot of Irish Stew.
A homeless fellow's prize.

Reach down deep in the pot
After taking off the lid
Just one morsel to stave my hunger
Until I go get hid.

Chorus

I'm not a thief by nature
I've never stole a thing
But when you're hunger gets the better of you
You'd take the crown from a king.

Money doesn't mean too damn much
To a homeless guy like me.
Keep your cameras, clocks, and phones
Just let me eat for free.

Oh that stew was tasty
Eaten as I ran down the path.
And now that pot, it serves me right
Whenever I want a bath.

Chorus:
Sinking deeper, deeper
Into that stew.

Mmm-mmm. (burp.)

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