Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
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29 comments:
Imagine that read out in a lilting English voice and it would turn the most intractable emo into one of the happy shiny people.
At last.
A Christmas song we can all enjoy!
A little upbeat but wonderful nonetheless (the poem I mean, not your weird carol)
The poem, sure it is cleve,r BUT the Commie carole is priceless.
I'm looking for it on itunes to add to my Ramones and Kinks Chrissy CD favs.
Is this poetry from Monkey's Mask? *
*This is inappropriate in several ways. I acknowledge this but am unrepentant.
The carol is catchy, isn't it homesick.
It's Christmas time, let's celebrate,
By purging the enemies of the state.
I've been singing that around the office all day.
The minister looked a bit worried, though.
Tomorrow I will hold you tight & kiss you my sweet darling,
I'll give you Trotskies & a Christmas candy Stalin
Spouse reminds me daily that "commies can be romantic too.. it is not a capitalist notion ya know"
Top tune Ramon.. top tune. The kids are humming it as they clean their teeth before bed.
Inappropriate?
Why so, Catlick?
Conflating the two Dorothys, Parker & Porter so soon after the latter's death is perhaps tactless.
I'd like to share a little something I wrote.
Dear Dorothy Porter,
Your poetry was better than it oughta be.
The pungent irony in this haiku escaped the last audience. Perhaps you awful people will get it.
I liked your poem, Catlick.
Thank you Ramon.
I don't get it
Star Wars confuses this awful
In December sun
The catchiness of that tune makes me wonder if Comrade Kosky and Brumby could put their policies to music and pipe it throughout the system.
"You think you need a train that takes you to your destination.
Well walk this way and we won't even say "desalination".
Grade separation is Nirvana, not had in your lifetime,
And don't distract me I'm re-jigging stats about the state's crime...
Crikey, you're on fire Catlick.
Yes I suspect I could be making a crust writing Liberal Party Christmas cards.
Mitchell Johnson has 8.
Mitchell Johnson has 8.
That's just showing off now.
I wonder if Mitchell Johnson likes Dorothy Parker.
He might find some solace in her work after his 9th wicket was just dropped by Haddon.
That was rather a Three Stooges moment.
And hasn't Perseus been quiet recently.
*wink*
"Mother Superior" (Benaud) reminds me of the Futurama jar heads. I can see Channel Nein plugging Ritchie in 50 years time.
And will Haden manage a Resurrection Shuffle?
Man's a goose.
I'm surprised he didn't fall over his pads on the way to the crease.
When your luck and your skill align on a downward trajectory it's "coitins".
And he's out for four.
Goose.
And while it's just you and me, catlick old chum, why is Perseus so spastic with women?
No more spastic than me or thee. Well me, really. Makes me want to cuddle him and say "there there".
Hey. Ya comin' down over the hols?
Two more days Ramon and you can have Gloomy Sunday:
Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless
Dearest the shadows
I live with are numberless
Little white flowers
Will never awaken you
Not where the black coaches
Sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thoughts
Of ever returning you
Would they be angry
If I thought of joining you?
Gloomy Sunday
Gloomy is Sunday,
With shadows I spend it all
My heart and I
Have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be candles
And prayers that are said I know
But let them not weep
Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream
For in death I'm caressing you
With the last breath of my soul
Ill be blessing you
Gloomy Sunday
Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep
In the deep of my heart here
Darling I hope
That my dream never haunted you
My heart is telling you
How much I wanted you
Gloomy Sunday
PS. I recommend The Associates' version but traditionalists might prefer Billie Holiday's.
PPS. Billy Mackenzie from The Associates topped himself but Billie H only ODed.
How do naturally anarchist cats fit with the Christmas carol Ramon?
Poetic license, comrade.
Poetic license.
And, interestingly, license doesn't seem to extend to this sort of thing...
"There's a swas-tik-a on the Christmas tree,
A pogrom for you, ethnic cleansing for me, etc...
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