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of voice you require, I can write it for you. Scroll down to see some sample speeches composed for various client's occasions.
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40th Birthday Speech
Ode to a Senior Signor
Tony Carrea is now forty years old,
he's travelled some way down life's long road,
started out as a small model with power to crawl,
revved up somewhat as he grew tall.
His journey continued without delay,
picked up a passenger along the way,
her name was Nancy and she was sleek,
not racy but reliable and certainly not meek.
Moving up gear, they raced down the track,
soon Agostino appeared in the back,
with child on board, they had to go slow,
no sooner done, Carmela was in tow.
Cruising along now at a comfortable pace,
Tony need not feel he's out of the race,
from a Cabriolet to a sedate saloon,
won't mean he's over the hill so soon.
Who wants a fast model, sure to burn out?
Much better to be sturdy, without a doubt.
Life is a little like the Highway Code,
stick to the rules, you'll stay on the right road.
As it's obvious that Tony knows this, you can bet,
there's sure to be plenty more life in him yet.
So from all of us here, hope this occasion will bring
Birthday Wishes ... much love ... Happy Motoring!
Another 40th Birthday Speech
Advertising a Fortieth
Debbie Clarke, the day that we met,
was a dull September in the wet.
We came to enrol at Leicester Poly.
- our aim to earn a load of lolly,
by going down the graphics route,
Advertising Land was bound to suit,
where most believed they were elite
and bullshit was the greatest fete.
We had great fun - this college lark
would surely help us make our mark,
for when we left that safe domaine,
DPSs filled our brain
and square-ups, silhouettes, Gill Sans face,
had well prepared us for the race,
to land ourselves the perfect job
at the best 'shop', before the mob
of graduates throughout the land
could try and gain the upper hand.
We managed it - didn't we just?
This was the life, it was a must,
the three hour lunches, all the works,
coffee and toilet rolls were the perks.
Now we're hitting our fortieth year,
we'd much prefer to drop down gear.
In the Industry, we've seen it all
and now we don't want to play ball
with cocky, juvenile, fresh-faced 'suits'
in Paul Smith clobber and trendy boots.
Advertising, we won't live and breathe
like aforementioned prats that make us seethe.
We simply wish to do our bit,
without the worry - does our face fit?
This may all seem I've got the hump
not everyone need take a running jump,
especially those who are here tonight,
I'd best shut up and be polite
for they may want to give me work,
who knows where freelance jobs may lurk?
So we're all here to celebrate
and raise a glass to our old mate,
we're not in any mood to talk shop,
so let's dance and drink until we drop.
70th
Birthday Speech
We’re gathered here today at the Bailiff Court Hotel,
having had a fabulous dinner and the odd few drinks as well,
to celebrate a man, our father whom we hold dear,
who has now experienced seventy years in this hemisphere.
He was born in Hardwick in the county of Buckinghamshire,
as a handsome dark-haired chap, the ladies did him, revere.
Now most of his hair has left home, what is left is silver grey,
but he‘s still very distinguished and attractive to this day.
He’s the proverbial English gent, was a respected doctor too,
treating all manner of ailments, from arthritis to the flu.
He’s always presented himself well, ever wearing his smart range of suits,
even donning his suit trousers while attending his gardening pursuits.
He graduated to cords in his fifties but he never was partial to jeans,
denim, he thinks, are for those with lassos and eat only burnt baked beans.
His approach to casual, we know, is to slide on a neat turtle neck,
with collar and tie, he’s relaxed, with sweatshirts and trainers, to heck.
With dress sense, you’d think he’d regale, slipping on the odd top hat and tail,
but he hates it so much he’s been seen, growing noteably ever more pale.
We discovered this strange aversion when five of us children did wed,
in hindsight maybe it’s better allowing his own choice instead.
He’s prone to say “Bugger!” sometimes, in a Hugh Grant kind of a way,
though, he usually won’t swear at all, it amuses when his mouth does stray.
We’re sure other such words would have surfaced in his head that day,
when one morning out milking, he was kicked in a bovine affray.
He has many hobbies and interests, we know milking’s not one of these,
likes classical music and opera but he doesn’t like putting on skis,
he’s a friend of the Royal Academy, regularly visits the art galleries,
he liked the Tate Modern building, the artists, do him not much please.
He’s a real whizz with the crossword he does in the Telegraph each day,
he really enjoys his travelling, finding places of interest to stay.
Last year he went to India, Switzerland already this year,
and off again he is going, to take in the French atmosphere.
He’s had a most fruitful life so far, not least with the children he’s sired,
seven of us is a rather large clutch, no wonder he has retired.
He’s also eight grandchildren, three girls and five grandsons,
that should ensure the Simpson's genes forever runs and runs.
When we were very young children, quotes he would often recite,
usually on Sunday lunchtime much to amusement and delight.
One favourite phrase,”Bugger Bognor” we think, sometimes he did share,
now it has much more meaning, we chose to celebrate here, not there.
He’s much loved by us all and we trust he’s enjoyed his surprise,
and now let us all make a toast, let’s be formal, so all please rise.
“To Dad, Happy Seventieth Birthday”, raise your glasses, let’s all synchronise.
“To the greatest father in all the world, to whom we all eulogise.”
Farewell
Speech
Today it has come after five short years
and I'm leaving the ship with regret, my dears.
Disembarking from a great company,
where water and sewage have been good for me.
From now, on hearing the drip, drip of a tap
or any encounter with a liquid mishap,
will always remind me of my days afloat,
this flagship, Thames Water, in my waterproof coat.
Tax equalisation, will ever mean much to me,
especially if I live and work across the sea.
And I jolly well hope I'll be earning the brass
to bypass 'Economy' and fly 'Business Class'.
What on earth makes me think I'll be travelling that far?
The commute to Reading was such hell in the car.
Though without Thames Water, I'd never have seen
Egypt, Malaysia and all the places I've been.
I'll miss all you colleagues, you've given me support
and put up with the purple filing system I bought.
You know, colour co-ordinates are crucial to me,
who knows, at the next job, what colour it will be.
So Matt, Jackie, Charlotte and not forgetting Jo,
Melissa, Esther, Jane and Caz, I'll miss you when I go.
But will you miss my presence or will you now be free,
from one so annoyingly organised as me?
Here I'm in full flood, hope I'm gushing not too much,
this speech intends to thank you with a sentimental touch.
I'll be seeking other channels and setting out to see;
if repatriation suits, then it's back up North for me.
Just remember when I've gone and picture if you can,
all the knapsacks on the back of this pedestrian man,
for the Puma will return, back into its cage,
while callouses on my feet will reach the putrefying stage.
It is, you'll be pleased to know, the end of all I'll say,
I'll stem this flow of words but before I go away,
I'd like to thank you all, again for everything,
and when you have the time, please give me a ring.
I'll remember the happy days I've had ...oh dear, does that sound wet?
I can tell you it's genuinely felt and I'm seriously glad we met.
I wish you all the very best, this is my fond farewell,
who knows when we'll next meet? These things, you never can tell.
30th Birthday Speech
An Ode to A Fashion Victim
Vincent Smith was a Han
