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» Hatrack River Forum » Active Forums » Books, Films, Food and Culture » The Yee Says Hoom-Eye-Yam (Page 1)

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Author Topic: The Yee Says Hoom-Eye-Yam
Scott R
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Every creature in the land of Burtucken
Makes a wondrous noise. Take the Red Nosed Fenducken:
The Fenducken in springtime makes a low hooting call;
But in summer it squeaks as it stretches up tall
To reach up to its mate, the blue tailed Fendirker,
Which makes a noise like a flobble, but muchly much quirker.

The Yee of the low plains takes many great pains
To sing out its song in sunshine or rain
It stretches its throat, and combs out its coat
And checks the high grasses for song-stopping stoats.
Then it sings-- or it gives singing a try,
As it does every year when the grass is knee-high.
Yees don't sing, be they Hopflers or Crams;
They croak out in chorus, saying Hoom-eye-yam, hoom-eye-yam.

The Burly-badong, the miffle-hoot vox, both keep their noises near to their socks.
Their feet are their whistles, their knees are their drums...
And I won't even say what they keep in their bums.

All of these creatures making noises to say:
Look over here! It's a wonderful day
Because I am about, and wouldn't you like
To take me to dinner or for a ride on your bike?

_____________________________

NOW, Jatraqueros:

Psycho-anal-eyes me.

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King of Men
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Simple: Too much Seuss at an impressionable age. I recommend freezing baths thrice daily, with a teaspoonful of mustard.
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SenojRetep
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I'd say you're suffering from a need for External Validation of your Existence.

Hoom-eye-yam, indeed. Don't worry, Scott, you are about. No need to make so much noise.

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Scott R
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Three times DAILY, with the freezing baths?

I don't even bathe that much during the week...

Can I do the mustard without the baths?

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ClaudiaTherese
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Quirky, delightful, and currently not threatening anyone else's health.

Thumbs up! [Big Grin]

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Scott R
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Whether you're talking about me or the poem, I think you're as splendid as a fenducken in summertime, CT.

And that's really saying something.

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ClaudiaTherese
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And that's even the smelly fenducken, I take it.

*preens

[Wink]

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Scott R
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No-- you're the non-smelly kind. With the plummage.
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BlackBlade
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Sounds like somebody is a fan of Jabberwocky by Lewis Carol.

quote:

And I won't even say what they keep in their bums.

Do tell! [Big Grin]
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Scott R
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BB--

Not really. The problem with Jabberwocky (IMO) is that it is too much nonsense. With the exception of the word 'quirker,' I only use nonsense for my nouns.

This goes for most of my nonsensical light verse poetry. Frivel and Schleck

Joogled By Broogles, on Strongverse.org is the exception. I don't know what I was thinking there.

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Uprooted
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So where do turduckens come from?
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Scott R
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quote:
where do turduckens come from?
Diarhettic ducks.
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Uprooted
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I would ask, wouldn't I? [Wink]
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Dr Strangelove
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Saw that one coming.
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Scott R
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And I would answer.
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Phanto
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Not entertaining enough.

^_^ [Wink]

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BlackBlade
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Scott: Too much nonsense? Boy takes vorpal sword in hand, stalks the maxoum jabberwocky, slays him with a snicker snack, takes his head gallumphing home, celebrates with his chorttling parent/guardian figure. If the first and last stanzas could be deciphered the entire poem would make sense!

Oh wait,

http://www.math.luc.edu/~vande/jabglossary.html

[Big Grin]

It all makes perfect sense now!

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Dan_raven
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Filth.

Its all absolute, disgusting, perverted filth and you should be ashamed of yourself.

Very ashamed.

Even more ashamed than that.

Lets take a look at that first kinky stanza:

quote:
Every creature in the land of Burtucken
Yeah, we all know what you mean by a Burtucken.

quote:
Makes a wondrous noise.
And what are we to believe they are doing tomake such a "Wondrous" noice?

quote:
Take the Red Nosed Fenducken:
Fenducken? Rearrange the letters and what do you get? Nothing I can print here in a family forum.

quote:
The Fenducken in springtime makes a low hooting call;
Hooting call, booty call. We know where this is going.

quote:
But in summer it squeaks as it stretches up tall
Well stretch your fenducken and you'd be squeaking too.

quote:
To reach up to its mate, the blue tailed Fendirker,
There. You admit it. "mate".
Pervert.

quote:
Which makes a noise like a flobble, but muchly much quirker.
Now I've made more than a few women make noises like a flobble, and it took some disgusting perverted and down right naughty behavior to do that, but to go to the extreme of flobbling much quicker--that's just wrong.

And muchly much quicker is so muchly much wronger.

Scott, you are one sick puppy.

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Scott R
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...and I have done despicable things with a spoon.

[Big Grin]

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Scott R
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:bump:

Just because the other thread is at the top of the page.

I want attention, too! And I'm much more entertaining.

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lem
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I'm with Dan. I think this poem is about dirty dirty sex, as Norm would say.

The anagrams in "Fenducken" set up all the other colorful words in this dirty poem.

hooting call
queaks as it stretches up tall
its mate
It stretches its throat
And I won't even say what they keep in their bums.

I can't even continue. Shame on you!!! [Razz]

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Scott R
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Lem and Dan:

Your words really, really hurt me. I'm not a monster; I shouldn't be made fun of just because I'm a creative GENIUS the likes of which our world hasn't seen since God put ribo- and nucleic acid in His swimming pool just to see what would happen.

Or because I have a penchant for long sentences.

I'm just trying to spread love and beauty-- tender, sweet beauty. But then you two come along and rend it with your talons. Your hateful talons of despair and prudery...

Don't you know you're adding to the hatred that runs amok in our world? You don't, do you? That's the only way I stay sane in this life, is to think that most people don't understand how their words hurt me.

WORDS CAN HURT.

That's all I really have to say to you two right now. Because I know that out there somewhere is a girl, or maybe a boy, who is hurt just like me, and who maybe is trying his or her best to be a writer, and be creative. And I really think that you two should take him or her into account before you open up your talons and start ripping into other people.

You don't know me, or who I am... you don't know how much my life has been a tragedy. I've worked so...hard to be happy, but everyday, I'm reminded how people are cruel. It's like that old 'The Cure' song, you know? The one that talks about how no one understands him, and how he wishes he were a flower on a grave, and just lets the light of the moon wrap around him?

It's like that.

Why don't people love eachother like...like fenduckens love fendirkers? Why are they so cruel? Don't they know they're killing our souls with their cutting words, and their cruelty?

Anyway. That's all I have to say to the two of you. You probably will just laugh at me now. Go on and laugh your cruel laughs. My soul is already dead, and I'm resting on the gravestone.

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lem
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quote:
My soul is already dead, and I'm resting on the gravestone.
Is the gravestone by the Purple Lake of Desolation? [Evil Laugh] I kid. I kid. I couldn't resist.

quote:
You don't know me, or who I am... you don't know how much my life has been a tragedy. I've worked so...hard to be happy, but everyday, I'm reminded how people are cruel.
See...now I am feeling guilty. I thought it was understood that the poem is a fun read out loud poem. It rolls off the tongue. I actually quite liked it, which gave me freedom to be playful.

I hope your joking and not hurt. Honestly I can't tell. I certainly was.

The only time I wrote anything on Hatrack with any degree of spite was when I posted recently in Naked_Valkyrie's thread. I was really annoyed that day and I prepped my response with my intention. She deleted the post shortly there after.

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Scott R
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Jeez. I'm going to have start putting "j/k" on all of my posts.

[Smile]

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Dan_raven
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Dear Mr. R.

Your remorseful and deeply impassioned, if some what gothic, plea for attention and sympathy have not fallen on deaf ears.

It has fallen on a deaf nose, but that's a long story not in the least ways important to this situation.

You post a peice of Seusian pornography, which I admit is not as ribald and perverted as "One Foot, Two Foot, Red Foot, Blue Foot", but which, none the less, becomes a mirror for both the writer and the reader.

When I look into that mirror, I see perversion, sexual promiscuity, and kinky behavior. You may argue that such is more a reflection on the reader than on the writer.

I disagree.

I think its a pretty accurate reflection on us both, and Mr. Lem as well, but I digress.

Still, though we may have hurt your fragile ego and feelings with our well meant, and intentioned, purely constructive criticism of your poetic efforts, there was no call for you to get so vulgarly insulting.

quote:
Why don't people love eachother like...like fenduckens love fendirkers?
I do believe you are asking me to fendirker myself, and that is just wrong.

I mean, I'd at least have to buy myself dinner first.

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Scott R
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Mr. Raven:

With a name like that, and you're accusing ME of being "somewhat gothic?"

quote:
You post a peice of Seusian pornography, which I admit is not as ribald and perverted as "One Foot, Two Foot, Red Foot, Blue Foot", but which, none the less, becomes a mirror for both the writer and the reader.
Oh, of course. If it's set to rhythm and rhyme it MUST be about pornographic. You call to mind my high school Advanced Placement English class, wherein it was debated that all structured poetry, to include Haiku, is about the actual act of intercourse. Which, I'll tell you right now, was only fronted as a legitimate postulation because none of us were experiencing it, had experienced it, or had hopes of experiencing it for a good many years (and several thousand dollars worth of acne medicine) later.

In other words, you are as juvenile as your reasoning is puerile.

'The Yee Says Hoom-Eye-Yam' is no more a pornography than...than...the Song of Solomon is a treatsie on gender warfare. I don't care what it says about your sister's...whatevers.

I mean the SoS. Not my poem.

My poem is about fantastic animals who make funny noises and want people to take them to dinner or for a ride on a bike...

Why is ClaudiaTherese the only person who understands that? Trust a Canadian to have a spotlessly clean, and entirely rational, brain.

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ElJay
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quote:

Trust a Canadian to have a spotlessly clean, and entirely rational, brain.

No, I don't think I will, thanks.
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Scott R
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Of course you wouldn't.
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ElJay
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Of course. After all, I've met CT. [Smile]
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Scott R
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I was thinking...of someone else other than CT.
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ElJay
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Oh.

Added: Teshi?

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Scott R
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[Smile]

No.

[Smile]

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Scott R
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Canadians are all community minded, generally placid people. I expect they all wear tightie-whities or longjohns, and are warm and comfortable people, both inside and in their relationships with others.

Why is ElJay trying to slander Canadians?

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ElJay
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'Cause it's fun. [Smile]

Anyway, I was going to say good that you weren't thinking of Teshi, because she really is spotless and rational and all that. [Smile] Unlike all those other Canadians out there.

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ElJay
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Also, if the girls wear tighty-whities, I don't want to know about it.
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Uprooted
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quote:
Originally posted by Scott R:


Don't you know you're adding to the hatred that runs amok in our world? You don't, do you? That's the only way I stay sane in this life, is to think that most people don't understand how their words hurt me.

WORDS CAN HURT.

. . . You probably will just laugh at me now. Go on and laugh your cruel laughs. My soul is already dead, and I'm resting on the gravestone.

Awwww, Scott.

[Cry]

(((Scott R.)))

[Kiss]


But seriously, now:

[Taunt]

[Laugh]

[Evil]

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Scott R
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Stop stuttering.
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Uprooted
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Don't forget -- WORDS CAN HURT.
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Scott R
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Especially if you're stuttering them like machine gun fire.

I mean, OW! Be considerate, okay?

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Uprooted
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I didn't stutter words. I stuttered smilies. They don't hurt.
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ClaudiaTherese
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quote:
Originally posted by Scott R:

Why is ClaudiaTherese the only person who understands that?

Not so much, actually.
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Scott R
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Whatchu talkin' bout, CT?
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RunningBear
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Hey, don't rag on his poem, and I shall post my poem, which I coauthored with a friend over several months.


Once upon a midnight dreary,
As I wandered Weak and weary,
Looking near, and looking far,
to the keys, for my car.

I found them neath the upholstered couch,
But a cat did bite me, what a grouch,
Decided then, it would be true,
I would go buy, a Mountain Dew.

So out the door did I dost go,
But lo did I slip on some noisy crow.
So off the porch did I then rocket,
Into the next dimension, through the
porthole in my pocket.

Wandering aimlessly through random space,
I stumble upon a super place.
All my friends were there, and the Beatles too,
and all seemed right until Ringo drank the soup.

The type of soup, was vicchysoisse*,
cold and savory, is what I saw.
Ringo drank, and Ringo slurped,
Until the fateful moment, when Ringo burped.

Time did stop, and Einstein blinked,
Into eternity, I did wink,
The beatles into time did swing,
until they crashed into bluesy Bing.

Crosby gasped, clasped, and rasped,
til the nut in his throat did pass.
he said to us "how do you do?
Mr Starr, McCartney, and You."

The bar was full of addicting tunes,
and so I realized it was true,
that even in alternate dimensions and tensions,
the Beatles rock with the most musical
bibblyshanktion!

i sat there wondering what was true,
the swinging crowd or the dog named blue?
I began to choose, little did I know,
That groove was reciprocal, as are fractions too.

But lost was I, wearing only my underroos,
What to do, i pondered, drinking my superglue.
I must find a way out, or on, or down.
Either direction servest my purpose, for my only
intent was to eat a cow.

A cow I grabbed, the bovine I bagged,
but my carnivorous lust began to sag
my eyes met cows, and I took a chance
and held her hoof, and we did dance.

I think of this in retrospect,
it aint something you would expect,
from man of steak or cow of grass,
but to leave my love, would be so crass.

I thought again and did back off,
I looked at David Hasselhoff,
he smelt like the wondrous tree of pine
and I realized the glue did warp my mind.

Warping minds was it's great power,
Not to mention, underneath it's adhesion I cower.
But there was something I saw in that drunken state,
Something beautiful and something great.

Twas a woman of grandeur, and pleasure of sight.
A woman so amazing, my tongue I did bite.
So off with the cow, I took another chance,
To whisk this fair maiden for a midnight dance.

Through time and space we twirled and we whirled,
Until we both fell about on the sweet green grass and
hurled.
We looked at each other as we slowly lifted our heads,
With mouths all crusty and musty with regurgitated
bread.

But oh how sweet those last few moments were,
When all my dreams appeared to be manifested through
her.
Until the glue wore off and my mind did equate,
This was no woman but an outerspace
Nurmgaglioniokate!

My mind was racing as were my legs,
But you can't get around without dancing, in space.
So I didn't move as she wrapped her tentacles tight,
Around my poor head, she seemed intent to remove my
sight!

I closed my eyes and shut my heart,
But glue and gas did make me fart.
The noxious stench did drive it off,
chased by David Hasselhoff

No! Dave, No!, I cried in Vain,
But a warp in space took me to spain.
I saw the crowd and they did tango,
I joined in and grabbed a mango.

It was sweet, delicious, and oh so good,
but when the drinks wore off I could see it was wood.
My splintery tongue did click and clack
but my vision slowly did turn black.

It was poisoned I could see,
like the stinger of a killer bee.
Up turned left and the beatles exploded,
The sky turned periwinkle and the sun imploded.

My senses told me something was afoot,
It must be Bad Santa all covered in soot,
But lucky for me I had David Hasselhoff, and the
famous Rip Van Toot.

We sped and lost tread as through Spanish traffic we
raced,
And learned not to hang our heads out the windows
because Rip did get maced.
But up ahead we did realize was a major fix,
It was the running of the bulls and a thousand drunken
chicks.

But what could stop us, we were saving the World,
From a naughty nature messin' Santa, and his army of
sloopy Girls.
"In the Name of Mangelism!" I did cry,
As was poor Rip with cayane pepper in his eye.

So out of the car we did step,
And good ole Rip was angry because of his eye of pep.
We hacked and we whacked with our swords of light,
Where we got them twas the angry man with no sight.

Rip was far worse than we ever did expect,
He took 500,000 lives as onward we trecked.
But enough about Rip we were nearing our goal,
The Spanish Foriegn Embassy where Bad Santa was
preparing coal.

Old Van Toot, let out a cry,
All covered in soot, "Now You Die!"
That Evil santa laughed, that evil santa sung,
but a fit of coughing got him, for he had that nasty
ol' black lung.

Toot did gasp and toot did cough
while santa charged hasselhoff
No! cried toot, you must not fight,
I'll ease your cough, youll see I'm right.

Santa took a card from Rip's spicy grip,
"LUNG TRANSPLANTS READY" said the little slip.
Santa hurrayed and Santa huzza-ed,
For no one wants to die from a lung like a garbage
disposal clogged.

Poor Rip was a good man we all know this much is true,
but that ol' Bad Santa had more in mind for that poor
ol Toot.
Santa was a man of mischief and yet merry,
So he transmogrified Toot into a Singin' Canary!

Now we knew that the job must be done,
For now Santa went for his Sloopy Girl Changin' Gun!
We ducked and we dodged to every avail,
But Santa got Dave yet he stayed a male.

Yes, it was true, a bit Sloopy he would remain,
But that never stopped the manliest of manlies Dave.
So onward we fought, to disarm Fat Santa,
But he turned the gun on hisself and he turned
into a girl named Miranta.

"Oh what a ghastly name!'" he cried,
That was before he up and died.
Even after a monstrous sloopy girl did he become,
He still has accosted by the hideous Black Lung.

So now we shouted and sang along with our Canary,
And got the gun and switched Rip back to hisself all
hairy.
Now it was time to employ our Rocket Boots,
And blast back to the Beatles Cave to dust off our
soot.

Sadly on the trip back our boots went kaput,
and Rip Van Toot (oops!) disappeared with a "woot"
"woot?" said I, he just went woot?
what a cheesy sound to blast away to.

But blasted he did
and into space he hid
leaving us alone,
in that vaccum cold as stone,

A worklich appeared, big blue and mad,
and its huge prickly claws did make me so sad.
Oh **** I said, I am so dead,
and the beatles sang "We are so screwed, It'll eat
our
heaaaddsss!!"

Oh I just love when in peril we are,
And the Beatles start singing about death, sorrow, and
SARS!
But this time our fortunes would prove not to be true,
For an army of eunuchs was just loosed from the Zoo.

So we coaxed them over with peanut butter with ham,
As the Beatles distracted the Worklich by singing
"Polythene Pam".
So when the Eunuchs arrived with hunger in their eyes,
We set them to eat the Worklich, no matter his size.

That poor little Worklich never had a chance,
OKAY, he wasn't little, because he wore 30 foot pants!
But within 3 quick seconds, was he devoured,
By 800 bulky men with unatural Eunuch Power.

Joyous for the moment we were as we danced and we
pranced,
and then we remembered the eunuchs did not eat the
pants!
Everyone knows that speed is found,
In a worklich's pants, which has like beef just been
ground.

And soon we were sailing through hyperspace,
Dodging stars and planets and destroying galaxies
with an old can of mace.
Towards Orions belt we were surely headed,
Because within the buckle is a lush planet bedded.
The name of the planet is for you to decide,
For up till now I have made the best effort of it to
hide.

As we neared the belt an odd smell I smelt,
our hyperspace pants were beginning to melt!
we were about to explode and crash into a spacial road
but my mind then hit the motherlode!

Some ritalyn, I had in my pocket
from some sixth graders I met on a rocket.
I met them and told them all that I knew
but how did I know what they would do!

they twisted my words and my phrases did twirl
and before I knew they said I had sixteen girls!
I told them no, I was a monk,
that tricked them well, but there was one little punk.

he threw a handful of medicine at me,
I spat and I sat, and tylenol I did see.
but off they flew on a big yellow dog,
and drove back home through a bog.

but back in space, I threw out the stuff,
and the ritalyn stopped the pants with a puff,
for I knew that hyperspace would quickly calm down,
if I gave it those chemicals without a sound.

towards the planet we did fly,
but I knew we would not die,
for space was now calm, and set us down gently,
we set up a camp, and I was the sentry.

(J) After we made ourselves at home,
We decided our surroundings we would roam.
So I took Ringo and Paul, George Harrison too,
And we hiked on down and took a look at the slew.

Now if you'll remember this was a quite nice green
planet,
All covered in foilage, meadows, and a core made of
granite.
But down in this slew was something new.
A glop covered endo-hurshnick-lappity-glappity-guu!

We were quite surprised as he took out his eyes,
getting ready for his supposed "customary" surprise.
He told us it was custom for visitors to swallow his
eyes but not digest 'em,
In order for him to get to know us better by looking
at us from the inside of his intestuns'.

Reluctantly we tried,
and hoped not to die,
It hurt so much,
When they rocketed up from the stomuk'.

We took turns swallowing the creatures eyes,
Until someone came in great disguise,
A figure noble, tall, and pugnaciously lewd,
But never-the-less dressed as an
Endo-hurshnick-lappity-glappity-guu!

The disguisee sloshed up the creek,
And made small talk with the insane freak.
They talked about this and talked about that,
But not long after got into a spat.

As it escalated into a raging bout,
The truth of his identity did come out.
As he beat the real creature with a gnarly root,
We saw through the glop that is it was ol' Rip Van
Toot!

Yo, wassup, is what I said,
but the sun began to turn to red,
the day was ending, light could barely be seen,
And of course you know what THAT means.

On this planet of (INSERT NAME HERE) so fine,
lived a creature that could read your mind,
but old Van toot had learned some tricks,
more useful than explosive bricks.

He said the key was to relax and let go,
maybe think of a wonderland covered in snow,
and as your mind wandered and you began to lose track,
you had to run like a bibblyshank and never look back.

You would have let your mind wander,
and soon it would be lost,
but atleast you wouldnt be eaten,
and that is a worthy cost.

the next morning it would find you,
and quickly would regale,
of its fascinating exploits,
wound into a tale.

then it would jump in your skull,
you nose would sneeze,
your knees would pull,
your hair would feel a minty breeze,
and you head again would be full.

So off we went again to search this fair planet,
All the while being careful of this creature and not
to panic.
We had ample tricks from Rip Van Toot,
But we were still afraid that our minds the creature
would loot.

We stumbled upon a cave,
It was dark and grimy but we tried to be brave.
The first thing we saw as we walked inside,
Was a greasy little truckstop, where they served food
that was fried.

So we asked the waitress, "What is there to do on your
world?"
She responded with coolarity, "Oh that's easy, we ride
the twirly-whirl!"
"The Twirly-Whirl?!" What could it be,
I hoped it certainly would not make me go pee!

Oh you have to ride it, she exclaimed with glee,
She then rocketed us to Gurngalon, the capital city.
Before we knew it we were on the ride,
Oh, but this was not ordinary, 5000 feet in the sky!

As we twirled and whirled and went ever so high,
I got the strangest feeling that I might just die,
But die I did not but my brain turned to mush,
and my kneecaps started to pull and to push,

Oh No! I said with my eyes turning blue,
Does this horrible ride go through hyperspace too?
I was all out of sedatives and could not stand,
the thought of being blasted through that unreal land.

But soon it was over and I did get out,
but had begun to relax when I heard a loud shout,
"GEEERRRRSHALALALALALAGGHHHHHH!!!" was the sound,
I spun and turned round, and saw the horrible beast!

It was three inches tall and had teeth two feet long,
and its toenails weighed fourteen metric tons,
little did we know that this monster was the patron,
of the ride recommended by the diner's old matron!

So what other choice was there but to run?
All the while being chased by a monster of several
tons.
Right then it just all seemed so surreal,
That's when I slipped on a banana peel.

My mind changed scenes as I took that fall,
All of a sudden I was at a ball,
A ball of grandeur, price, and gayety,
It was then that I saw that hideous lady!

She was ten feet tall with a neck like a whale,
The legs of a walrus, and a baboon for a tail!
Again, she was of hideous complexion,
Oh, no she's headed in my direction!!

It was then that I came to out of my dream,
Only to see the monster about to eat the rest of my
team.
What was I to do, a job of such magnitude, needs some
one special, but who?
But then it occured to me to implement my shoe!

My shoe was changed as a result of our intergalactic
travels,
Now it had become a super-butt-kicking gavel.
So I untied it ever so slightly and kicked in the
direction of the monster,
Where it gamely planted its hammer into his keester!

"Quickly!" I said as I gathered up my friends.
"There's a moonscoot over yonder guarded by those
Pushugrends!"
We all darted over and started the fight,
and promtly pulled their underwear over their heads so
tight.

We all jumped on the multi-purpose vehichle, and shot
over the land,
Back to where we set up camp just a day beforehand.
We jolted into camp, with fire in our eyes,
But John Lennon and Dave were Hula dancing, much to
our surprise!

We told them "Cut it Out! We'll have none of that!
Get in this moonscoot, so we can scat!"
So John and Dave followed commands,
Ever so embarrassed, as we swatted their hands.

We scooted and shot 'cross the desert so dry,
and once again I felt I might die,
But calm I was was because the perils we'd passed,
with no other injuries than being harassed.

but soon we arrived at a place so very dire,
it was eviler than mt. everest is higher!
seven creatures ran out so foul and demonic,
I gulped and I gasped and had to drink some tonic,

I am unable to explain how awful they looked,
all of the adjectives couldn't be found in a book
but they lept to and fro and tried to kill dave,
but he pulled out a weapon, and it was s snave!

A snave I did cry,
for I was so shocked,
for how could this come,
to David Hasselhoff!

he twirled it round,
and fired it twice,
and blasted four soundly,
and sliced off one's face.

but one was left and it swalled him whole,
or atleast I thought so because its teeth were like
poles,
I could not tell the creatures dimensions,
and sadly looked on at poor dave's ascension.

this foul act did cut to our hearts,
so "BIBBLYSHANK" I roared and then smote the beast,
and it shuddered, whimpered, and fell to its parts
and crashed into a mighty pile of yeast.

As we mourned over the death of mangelous dave,
a look into the periwinkle sky I gave,
and saw a shape flitting far away,
and knew that that is where we could find him today!

The shape in the distance was actually quite obtuse,
Not like a star but rather oblong, like the backside
of a moose.
Twas plainly ugly is what I saw but remembered that so
was Dave,
So we hopped in the moonscoot to the place he was
taken as a result of his snave.

12 Kazillion miles away was this furry place,
But super hyper-light-speed is quite a pace.
When we arrived at the awful mass, we saw what is was,
It was a fur covered rainsock, home to the Rotund
East Transbilkian Snurflas!

"Those vile little creatures!" is what I said.
"All these crazy happenings are getting to my head!"
For I knew what the Snurflas had in mind,
and believe me it wouldn't be kind!

East Transbilkian Snurflas have what you might call a
"trade",
A little business in the economy of space.
They make little coverings for the skinless types,
The Rangles, the Burflanks, and the Undergeripes.

These coverings are ever so thin,
But also quite warm, sadly fashioned from human skin!
The covering fits over anything really,
For the Snurflas add a little rubber extract to make
it stretchy.

The thought of poor Dave being outside himself,
made me ever so sick,
So I had to do something quickly,
OH! I remembered a trick!

Snurflas have a tendency to eat to much,
and when they do, they blow up at a single touch.
It is situations like this that I am glad to be
prepared,
so I got out my extra dehydrated food platters!

Just add water the directions said,
So I added a little water and there was 50 lbs of
bread!
Just a little bit more should do the trick,
Oh No! I just added a crick!

The water flowed and the water splashed,
A little too much, I thought as I tripped on some
hash.
Half the planet all covered with food,
"Well I think that'll do it" I said to my crew.

Out of nowwhere came thousands of Snurflas,
And they gorged themselves on Hamburger Helper and
Haagen Daas!
We could see their bellies growing by the inch,
Quite sickening really, but they'd explode with a
pinch!

As was customary for Snurfla feasts,
A pinching war ensued, a chain reaction of exploding
beasts!
Now was time to take our leave,
so we journeyed down the furry sleeve.

A series of catacombs were in our way
It looked like we would never find Dave.
In front was 8 choices of where to go,
And behind... the same... Oh no.

Worried we were,
and confused as well,
and scared oh yes sir,
but we soon heard some bells

Bells? said I and looked about,
but saw no belfry or tolling device,
so gave up and collapsed with a pout,
but the sounds did change to something quite nice!

it was the mellow tone of beautiful music come to me
the luvverly mangelous song called the pachelbel canon
as I relaxed and became absorbed of that canon in D
I knew that this music lead to the pinnacle of
mand-dom

HA! cried I, for I now knew, where to go, and what to
do!
I ran down the passage of eight oh so fast,
that I began to shake and my toenails turned blue
until finally the barrier of sound I did pass.

the world went sloopy,
the ground turned to pizza,
I was surrounded by groupies.
and rained on by matza.

I then understood that this view was a trick,
designed to keep me away from dave but to my path I
did stick.
The rest of the expedition did then catch up,
and gave me a special moozgifying drink to sup.

This bout of confusion was all just an illusion
So we continued to journey with our heads in
contusion.
It was really quite nasty to stumble about in there,
Since we were on a planet made out of hair.

The hair was quite sticky and gooey and muckey,
and all of the poor Beatles got a little bit stucky.
So Rip and I we pulled and we pryed,
and worked so hard that Rip up and died!

I looked at his pulseless body and said:
"Oh get up you lazy sleepy head!"
He'd done it before and he'd had plenty of rest,
So quickly I went and stomped on his chest!

My version of CPR may be unorthodox,
But good ol' Rip jumped out of his socks!!
The Beatles were so tickled that I had performed this
feat,
That they decided that they would start a beat.

Oh what a lovely tune was this instant classic,
Somethig I would listen to while ignoring my wife and
eating a Vlassic!
Oh quite nice, so graceful and witty,
So potent too that it dissolved all the sticky.

So onward we pressed til we came to a room,
A chamber full of captive humans all tied up to
brooms.
My heart soared and my heart squeaked,
For I saw our mangelous Dave with his hair all
tweaked!

I knew that poor dave could not see his hair,
for damaging his do would give even a rooskle a scare.
and then i realized just what I had to do to keep us
all sane,
and pulled ringo's greasy hair into a four foot wide
plane.

the reflective effect of ringo's oily mop,
did make the very fabric of time and space stop.
dave looked up and the dark crossed his face,
and I knew at once, we must get out of this place.

The scrodlificious snaves had accomplished a great
deed,
by making poor daves hair look like a weed,
but little did they know that their time had come,
and dave blew up like a radioactive bum.

I knew not what to do for dave shone with such light,
and the evil snaves could not even put up a fight.
they wisped away into the faintest of ashes,
when I started to hear some strange old clashes.

And once again that strange predicament fell,
that only once before have I let tell,
for that porthole in my pocket still was a-working
and the infernal blast from dave let us know it twasnt
shirking.

Time did stop, and Einstein blinked,
Into eternity, I did wink,
with dave and the beatles and rip van toot,
who appeared out of space through some cosmic chute.

We arrived back in my house which scared me so much,
because the normalness was still way too much,
but luckily the strange began to happen,
for I heard some paws on the floor slappin.

Whaa! said Dave, a melodic cat?
And I thougth about the irony of that,
to cross the universe in a matter of days,
to find something so strange in so normal a place.

the cat stood up and said to us all,
"I now have a quest that will be quite a ball"
"Ill shoot you to the place, and I promise I wont
miss,
but first you hear the quest, and it goes like this..."

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Amanecer
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I copy and pasted the last entry into a word document. 13 pages.
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ClaudiaTherese
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quote:
Originally posted by Scott R:
Whatchu talkin' bout, CT?

Ah find ye a turmuginatin' flibberty flim-man, ye and yer crew o' narscawls and bejeepers. Tip-top ace-ina-hole, b'twernt no nicety 'bout it. Hah.

Yah see?

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RunningBear
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Oh yeah, we are fairly proud of it.

Most all of the words in there have meanings, we are currently working on the dictionary which will contain said words.

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Scott R
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quote:
Ah find ye a turmuginatin' flibberty flim-man, ye and yer crew o' narscawls and bejeepers. Tip-top ace-ina-hole, b'twernt no nicety 'bout it. Hah.
Aw... You're sweet. But I haven't had any narscawls in my crew since aught-3.
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Scott R
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What exactly do I need to do to get attention, here?

I mean, I've confessed to actually EATING BABIES.

I eat babies!

Doesn't that disturb you people? Why aren't you disturbed?

WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU ALL?!!

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rivka
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Ignorance and apathy.

You know the difference, right?

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Scott R
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1) You can't claim ignorance. I just told you all about me.

2) You don't care about babies?

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