Breaking Down Humpty's Wall
Little Bo Peep lost her sheep because she was
And not a very good shepherd either
Why would anyone entrust sheep to a child? Isn't there some sort of
child labor law against children working with sheep? ...
This is how it began, stupid questions about rhyming stories that for
me made no sense. I know they're not supposed to make sense, I know
they're not supposed to be based in any kind of logic but I never heard
nursery rhymes as a child. Never. No one ever told me any. Hyenas just
don't speak English and being the only Chinese kid in school, it
sucked. Now I learn there's an amazing amount nursery rhymes. Most of
which I'm as familiar with as I am with calculus. My wife swears she
told me what a "dell" was. You know that love story with the farmer in
it? Of the ones I have heard there are questions. "Issues" you could
say. Apparently there are a slew of explanations behind many of them
relating to political commentary and societal issues, yatta, yatta,
yatta. I really don't care. That's someone else's book. I have more
practical (some say annoying, some say obsessive -- I'm not obsessive
really why would I obsess on something like this? Obsessive people do
that, obsessive, smobsessive) questions.
Here's a perfect example: The woman in the shoe with the kids. How
many bedrooms did the shoe have? Did she actually turn down a house to
live in a shoe? Does she dream of moving into the big jackboot condo?
So many questions.
The main perpetrator of these rhymes, the Queen of all, is Mother
Goose of course. This pastry lovin', nonsensical rhyming bird was just
asking for it. I figure if you're going to write an annoying tome might
as well go for the big bird. After awhile though it seemed to me like,
well ... it seemed like Mother Goose didn't really give a damn.
Bitterness set in and instead of flying south every winter she started
heading uptown to her favorite hangout, The Down Feathers. There she
spent her days tanked on cheap duck sauce, honking about the glory
days. The "Humpty" days. The truth of the matter is simple and
throughout this book you'll hear me say it in a variety of
MOTHER GOOSE WAS A DRUNKEN CRACKHEAD
Now a lot of book introductions babble on incessantly, especially ones
for classic literature about the author and his/her life and how one
day after a chance meeting with a mentor or during a killing spree,
blah, blah. Really now! Most people skip the introduction all together
anyway. So for me to make an assumption that the two people reading
this book will in fact read the introduction, is foolish.
This has been a word from your author brought to you by the makers of
Gibberish. It's a tasty candy treat that causes you to salivate and
rant about the FBI chasing you.
The Pastry Thing
(Expecting chapters were you? Don't. I mean after all it is a rant on
nursery rhymes - not quantum physics and the existence of matter and
anti-matter. Explaining what I just wrote is a chapter. Man I should
have made this a science book)
Picture if you will, a baking-obsessed poet looking to vent some
baking energy into the always-popular "Hot Cross Buns." Just be glad it
wasn't a spice obsession. Then you would have had "Hickory, Sage,
Dillweed Dock. The mouse ran up the clock (with a touch of paprika)."
But looking at some of these the intent is clear. Rhymes about baking
help children developmentally. No lie. It's been studied intensely and
9 out of 10 pediatricians agree. You ever wonder about that 10th
doctor? What is he or she thinking? How's that for a pickup line. "You
know those four out of five doctors they always talk about ... well I'm
the fifth and I never agree."
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!
Make me a cake as fast as you can
Pat it, and prick it (what?) and mark it with a T
Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.
I'm assuming the person talking is a girl, which is why girls since
the dawn of time have been playing this mind-boggling game with their
hands. Why on earth you would "pat" a cake in mid-air is beyond me. How
are you supposed to put the filling in? And why the hell would you pat
a cake at all? I guess make a cake didn't sound as good. Make-a-cake,
make-a-cake ... See it doesn't work. Forget that, excuse me but "prick
it?" I guess pricking is one of those wacky baking terms. And who is
this Baker's man? He's obviously not the baker so who is this guy
masquerading as the baker making cakes for little girls? What is he an
intern? One interpretation could be that he's the baker's lover and
this is some sort of coded love poem.
Oscar Wilde this isn't.
It would seem that to compete with the local Dominos, Baker's man had
to make a cake, I'm sorry, pat a cake, as fast as he could (can).
Thirty minutes or less or free cake for everyone. Now the really stupid
part is the "Put a T in it" line. A "T" for Tommy and me. Sure little
girl. While I'm at it why don't I stuff some gold in there for you too.
Friggin kids. Poor Tommy, misled by his demanding sister thinks the
cake is for him when it's really to share. That's a shame isn't it? He
never did get over that. It's actually quite sad now that I think about
it. Here you have this brother and sister that live on cake. Man those
were tough times. Poor toothless kids high on sugar.
Jack Sprat could eat no fat.
"Hey Jack, I heard you couldn't eat any fat. Gee that's too bad. I
just had me a big bucket of fat for breakfast. It was
"I know George. Don't you know how hard it is to watch all my friends
eating fat? Just the other day I made chicken and I had to throw out
all the fatty grease. I almost cried. I wish I knew someone who could
eat fat because it seems like such a waste."
Well lucky for Jack he did just that and found someone who could eat
He wed this woman who we'll call Pat who loved to eat fat.
His wife could eat no lean
And when we say no lean, we mean not even an ounce of skinny. So you
can see this was a match made nursery rhyme heaven. Pat didn't even
have any lean friends. And if she did it was because she ate all the
fat off of them. Jack's famous Bacon, Lean and Tomato sandwiches now
came with and extra layer of fat. And Pat she loved that. Shopping was
an interesting experience with the Sprats. They needed two carts ...
like I need to explain this.
And so betwixt them both, you see
This is clearly an excuse to use the word "betwixt" which was part of
the vernacular at the time. Very often would you read news stories
reporting bar fights,
... "In a vicious fight betwixt Mr. Fellow and Mr. Rathbone.," "I say,
what's that betwixt your hands?" Then there was the award-winning stage
play, Nothing Betwixt Them. And of course the hugely popular candy bars
- never mind.
They licked the platter clean
Word is that's how they died. After years of licking the platter clean
they choked one night after some over-zealous licking.
Hot cross buns
Hot cross buns
One a penny, two a penny
Hot cross buns
If you have no daughters
Pray give them to your sons
This passed for Mother Goose? Give hot cross buns to your sons? Huh? I
tend to think that the only reason that line exists is because she
couldn't come up with a better rhyme than sons and buns. I mean c'mon!
What if they were muffins? "If you have no daughters pray give them to
your... puffins?" I'm thinking a cavalcade of pastries went through the
mill before the genius revelation of buns. "Crullers? No. Cookies? Nah!
Buns? ... Wait a minute! That's it. Buns." And what exactly is a Hot
Cross Bun? I must have missed the Doughnut Hole/Hot Cross buns special
at Dunkin' Donuts.
Good price though --"one a penny." Why just the other day I bought a
Snickers for 50 a penny. Following "a penny" math rationale I suppose
12 hot cross buns would be -- a penny. If you hadn't guessed it, MG
didn't in macro or microeconomics. She couldn't pass the exam for big
ass, really easy economics. One-a-penny! Because if two are a penny
then four are -- a penny. These suckers must have reeked of bubonic
plague or something. Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! A closeout on the hot
cross buns. Come down to the "Baker's man." Everything must go. One a
penny, two a penny, they're all a penny. And hey if you have no
daughters give them to your sons, or steal someone else's son.
What a bizarre thing to suggest. What if you had no sons, who would
you give them to? Uncles? Cousins? By the way I'm three rhymes into
this book and I'm starting to see some kind of trend with girls and
baked goods. What's up with that? I'm a guy and I love baked goods.
Granted I'm no "Baker's Man" but I find it disturbing to know that only
girls got to experience pastries. That just isn't right. Why can't we
share? Why can't we all just get along? - OOPS wrong book.
I must say this rhyme couldn't have been a big hit for MG. Probably in
her sophomore slump after going platinum with that Pat-A-Cake deal (the
Macarena of the day). The pressure to come up with the goods for a
second batch of rhymes must have been too much as you will read in the
Pease porridge hot
Pease porridge cold
Pease porridge in the pot nine days old
some like it hot
some like it cold
some like it in the pot nine days old
You have got to be kidding.
People actually sing this to their children? Oh the humanity! Like
Was the L on her typewriter broken? This is beyond stupid. It's like
super stupid (One of my favorite superheroes by the way. Remember that
time he was going to save the dog but forgot to get his rabies shot
first? That cracked me up). Possible scenario: This is an experimental
blues song but since anyone introducing new music at the time would be
severely thrashed by minstrels brandishing mandolins, the idea was
scuttled. If you notice the repetition, it's very conducive to
That's the only possible reason I could think of why a three-line
rhyme turned into six . I can hear it my head ...
dah dah dah dah, Some like it hot, dah dah dah dah, Some like it cold
dah dah dah dah Some like it in the pot - Nine Days old!
Pease, pease, pease give me some.
I either want it with some steam, or so
cold I'll get a chill
Give me some of that bacteria-infested glop to
make me ill.
Oh porridge. Pease! YEEEOW! ... The extended remix will be out in
for the Grammy's in an homage to porridge, although why anyone would
tribute to porridge. Have you ever tasted that stuff? It's like mushy
gravel. (If you're wondering how I know what gravel tastes like it was
because as a boy growing up in a quarry that's all you had to
For some reason porridge was a favorite fairy tale/nursery rhyme meal
and it was like the Lucky Charms of the day. "Green pebbles, yellow
corals, purple granite." Anyway, in homage to the crappy breakfast food
and her porridge days when all she had to survive was porridge and Hot
Cross Buns she wrote this putrid excuse for a rhyme. Once she beat the
crack habit though, it was back to good ol' MG.
That Kid in the Corner
Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner
Eating a Christmas Pie
This rhyme is wrong on so many levels. Let's talk about giving your
kid a whole pie to eat. After he's done, pass him the scissors and tell
him to go run around in the back yard with a firecracker. Little Jack
Horner went to the corner and knocked down the Christmas Tree and set
it on fire after being jacked up on Christmas Pie. Mmmm, mmmmm
Christmas pie sure is tasty. I'm not sure which I like better the one
with Frank(or ac) ensense? or "Mior?", "MCHHHHHHHHRRRRR?" (how do you
spell that anyway? Better question what is it? Who brings "Mere" as a
gift? You would think a wise man could come up with a better baby gift
than some smelly stuff he picked up at the Jerusalem gift shop. Maybe a
toy or two, a ball, some diapers. What, Jesus didn't pee like the rest
of us? It's a baby for Christ's Sake! Oh ... sorry. Jeez - Oops.
Swearing must have been a real pain with that kid around. And who
brought anything for the mother? Didn't Mary have a registry or is that
not allowed for Immaculate Conception? I know, I know, Mary couldn't
have a shower because Jewish women don't have baby showers until after
the birth. Geez what do you think I am, impotent? I am so way off the
What's in Christmas Pie anyway? Ah yes, the traditional Christmas Pie
much like the Hanukah Pie it's a staple of any holiday meal. Chopped up
elves? Apparently the rhyme gives us at least one ingredient
He sticks in his thumb
Pulls out a plumb (so that's plumbs, flour, sugar and crust?)
and says, "What a good boy am I."
Definitely a rhyming scheme contrivance here. Otherwise it would be
Christmas Poi because obviously he should say, "I'm a good boy."(Okay
the Poi is a reach but so is "I" and "Pie") Any kid walking around
going, "What a good boy am I" would be beaten senseless on the
schoolyard. Plus you have to wonder about Jack if he's in the corner
talking to fruit on one of his digits. What's the motivation here? Is
he prone to sticking his thumb in his food and then making statements?
Plus what parent gives their child an entire pie to eat? (Tooth decay
must have been at an all time high those days with all the Pat-A-Cake's
and pies being eaten).
Mrs. Horner on the phone to her friend Janice (Janice is a good friend
"So Janice did I tell you the other day, Jack's sitting over there in
the corner and he sticks his thumb into the Christmas Pie ... Yes the
one I make every year ... oh come Janice I told you I can't give you
the recipe ... anyway the next thing you know he starts talking to
himself. I'm worried about him. His father used to do the same thing to
the Easter Pie ... yes it's a different recipe!"
Later Jack is seen scrawling NAM S'REKAB on the mirror in plum juice
and chanting to his finger.
Technically Georgey is not a pastry rhyme but his name, Pudding Pie
is, giving him proper placement in this chapter and not the one titled,
"Neighborhood Freaky Children who Eventually Become Psychopaths.
You've heard the story, Boy eats pie, boy kisses girls, and girls want
boy, boy runs away.
Here's the deal -- Georgey Porgey -- can we talk about this name
please. Georgey? Is it Georgey Porgey Pudding Pie? Like is that his
name? What kind of sick parent names their child Georgey Porgey? It
could be a law firm... "Georgey Porgey, Pudding Pie, can I help you?"
With a name like Georgey though you can see why he's a sadistic bastard
who goes around making girls cry by kissing them. Although you have to
wonder, why are they crying? Maybe he pinches them simultaneously?
Maybe his breath is really bad? These are things we should know. So I'm
thinking shouldn't the word have gone out about this dolt after a week
of his actions? DON'T KISS GEORGEY ...WILL MAKE YOU CRY! Signs should
have been posted.
But the really weird part is they come back to play. Why I don't know.
Now there is some question as to whether these are the same girls he
made cry or new girls he has yet to make cry just waiting to fall
victim to his Porgey charm. I can't figure that out. Either way he's
like a badly named, neighborhood playboy or he needs some kind of
medical attention. And you know he couldn't be taken seriously later in
life when he tried to pursue a career as a surgeon. "Paging Dr. Pudding
Pie, Dr. Georgey Porgey Pudding Pie!"
To Sir Humpty with Love
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
For the longest time I didn't even know Humpty was an egg. I thought
Humpty was a real person. Imagine my surprise when I discovered Humpty
- was an EGG! An egg?! Sitting on a wall? How it got there isn't as
nutty as the fact that the king presumably tried to save it.
All the kings' horses and all the kings men
Could not put Humpty together again
Yes that's right, in this kingdom crime runs rampant and war is always
imminent because the king's army fights a never-ending battle to save
eggs placed on tall structures. Last week the king put Andy the egg, on
the water tower. No one dares tell King Loony that personified eggs are
afraid of heights. They really have no way down except rolling or
falling. They also forgot to tell him that as a general rule, horses
are not very skilled at reconstructive surgery. His enemies don't even
bother attacking him because he has no riches and they all know he's
nuts. He spent all of his money on a giant hen that lays big-ass eggs.
Don't piss her off though. That beak is lethal. The king's men, finding
it hard to pass up the opportunity for fresh eggs, lied to the king
about trying to save Humpty, filled the coffin with sea shells and had
themselves Humpty omelets for a week. Tasty
*Note: This is one of the few MG rhymes I found involving food that
didn't have baked goods or pastry in it, even though eggs are a common
ingredient in baking, with the exception of Christmas Pies. Rumor has
it there's a "lost book" of rhymes all about fruits and ducks
The Royal Tart
If there was ever a sorry excuse to create a rhyming scheme, this is
The Queen of Hearts
She made some tarts
All on a summer's day
The Knave of Hearts
He stole those tarts
And took them clean away
Okay, you have a baking queen, she's like Queen Pillsbury Dough Girl,
who spends the whole stinking day making ... Tarts. "Screw dinner king,
It's tart sandwiches for you." I guess tarts are so hard to make they
take a whole day? In the summer no less. It's probably somewhere near
the temperature of the earth's core in that kitchen and the queen is
down there making tarts. She must be married to King Loony (the one
with the egg fetish). And why is a queen baking at all. Don't these
royalty have a staff? And who may I ask is dumb enough to steal tarts.
"Hmm let's see, royal jewels, gold, crown NO! I'll steal the tarts.
I'll take them clean away!" What the *&;^$#@ is this all
But wait there's more
The King of Hearts
Called for the tarts
And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of hearts
Brought back those tarts
And vow'd he's steal no more
Would you steal anything from a king that summarily beats the crap out
of thieves for stealing pastries? Imagine if you stole a pie. Of course
then there would have to be a king and queen of ... Eyes? Do you think
maybe the knave did something to those tarts before returning them to
king Loony. Particularly since he could have gotten such a fine price
for them on the Tart Black-market. We're talking more than one-a-penny
This one cracks me up.
Little Tom Tucker
Sings For His Supper
What shall he eat?
White bread and butter
Let's take a moment shall we and think about how well supper and butter
rhyme. This obviously was well thought out. And as far as suppers go,
this ranks right up there with cake three times a day like that girl
and her brother Tommy from that baker dude. If I'm singing for my
supper I think the first thing I would do is stand in front of a nice
restaurant or maybe out back by the kitchen. Here you have this poor,
underprivileged kid singing for food and he opts for bread and butter.
Unless that's what everybody was eating at the time. His singing must
be horrendous though if that's all he can buy at the end of the day.
Then again the title of his little ditty could have actually been
called, "Gimme some white bread and butter." Later on in life during a
Rolling Stone interview, superstar rocker Tommy admitted that in truth
the song he sang in those lean days was really a metaphor for the
plight of the farmer.
How shall he cut it?
Without e'er a knife
How will he be married?
Without e'er wife
Before I go on can we talk about this "e'er?" Could you find a harder
word to read in rhyme? Betwixt this and other poems why no! On the top
ten list of annoying things in poetry this is all 10. Frankly it's just
damn dumb. That's all I have to say about that. How shall he cut what?
The bread and butter? Why would he want to cut the bread and butter? If
this is all Tom Tucker is eating why the hell would he want to cut it.
Wouldn't he want to use the knife to spread the butter? Duh!
The real problem is the marriage thing. In the Mother Goose book I got
these poems out of there are little drawings of some of the characters
and scenes in these rhymes. Tom looks like he's maybe 10 or 11 years
old. And he's drawn singing against a white background (like purgatory)
-- with a dog. There's no reason for a dog. It's not Little Tom Tucker
.. and his dog! It works well with the poverty angle though. But going
back to the marriage thing., if I'm supposed to believe that he's 10
why on earth would he be thinking about marriage. How can he afford to
marry anybody? He can't even muster up enough for e'er sandwich. And by
the way unless this book is way progressive how do you get married
without e'er wife? He could marry his sandwich? Or better yet, that
damn dog. Stupid, just plain stupid.
Trippin' on Pudding
This rhyme starts off ok. Let me rephrase that-the first two lines.
Then the opium-induced haze kicked in and MG took a left turn into the
ridiculous. What's worse is it looks like she got halfway through ran
out of opium, pawned her big sewing wheel thing (The one that little
guy made the lady used to make gold thread), got some more opium and
away we go with some gibberish about pudding. To subject the glorious
epic legend of King Arthur to a guy who steals barley meal ... and to
imply that queen Gunievere cooked stolen goods ... Oy! Read on.
When good King Arthur ruled this land
(that's the land where Kings steal barley rather than conquer a town,
rape and pillage and take all the damn barley he damn well
He stole three pecks of Barley meal
To make a bag of pudding
(This line is undeniable proof that Mother Goose was in fact a coke
head revealing her addiction with the symbolism of King Arthur jonesin'
so bad for "bag" pudding, he's selling his crown for barley pecks.
Jell-O wouldn't suffice for this delinquent ruler. No he wanted the
real deal. Prime pudding. Geez I think too much.
A bag pudding the Queen did make
And stuffed it well with plums
And in it put great lumps of fat
As big as my two thumbs
(So she's way tripping at this point, like the walls are talking or
something because suddenly her thumbs are as big as two lumps of fat.
Then again she could have been cursed with big fat lard thumbs. That
would suck wouldn't it? Imagine walking around in high school, the
finest goose outfits and then she goes to shake hands with her dream
duck and BOOM - lookout it's big fat lard thumbs. There was some
literature about someone exhuming her grave and finding really huge
bones at the end of her hands. Know what? I'm sticking with the drug
The King and Queen did eat thereof (again with the pointless rhyme
And noblemen beside
(She want's us to believe that King Arthur and the Knights of the Round
table sat around all day eating bag pudding made with pure fat. Yeah
that's right and they drank beer out of the Holy Grail and Arthur used
Excalibur to slice up the pudding. Yes, without a doubt my favorite
part of the legend)
And what they could not eat that night
The Queen next morning fried
And gave it to Sir Presley
Which is why that fat-ass died
I tell you, nothing says lovin' like a piece of fried bag puddin'
The Hits Keep Coming
Paging Social Services
There was an old woman who lives in a shoe
This is just plain horrible. Forget the fact that it doesn't make
sense. It's just mean. If you're looking for insight into the dark side
of Mother Goose stick around for the end of this one.
She had so many children she didn't know what to do
She had? Did she give birth to these kids? The illustration shows more
than 50 kids climbing around this shoe. Excuse me? Contraception
anyone? Hello? What kind of freaky ass ( I use ass as a modifier a lot
don' I?) baby machine is this woman? And who keeps impregnating her?
Scenario #2 - this is her idea of a daycare center. Although I'm
certain the parents researching daycare centers might have been tipped
off by the fact that ... SHE LIVES IN A SHOE!!!??? Doesn't anyone
notice this? Are we talking Shoeville here? Does everyone live in a
shoe? Whatever the case the illustration of this rhyme depicts more
than 50 Lilliputian children playing around this shoe. Several are
playing with a giant bird. Some are lighting a big bonfire. A few are
bouncing of dandelions. At this point you wonder why on earth is this
woman in charge of so many kids. How exactly did she get her license?
In the phone the ad reads, "Got so many children don't know what to do?
Just call the Old Woman who Lives in a Shoe. She's got more than
She gave them some broth without any bread
It just keeps getting worse and worse. For all we know she didn't give
them any spoons either and they ate the stuff with their hands. I mean
if she can't even maintain controlled chaos how the hell is she going
to have a handle on dinner? But this by far is nothing compared to the
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed?
WHAT? Are you kidding me? How long has this rhyme been read to
children? Do people realize how unbelievably sick this is? Hey I know,
after I've malnourished a small town worth of children let me whip them
and send them to bed. But here's what I'm thinking - what bed? She has
beds? If she can't run down to the supermarket and pick up 10 loaves of
white bread to serve with broth what makes you think she's going to
have a place for them to sleep? Obviously after a sound whipping you
don't need a bed because more than likely you'll pass out from the
pain. She may not know what to do with them, but she sure knows how to
beat them. Isn't that sweet?
Jack Be Stupid
Here's the epitome of laziness for Mother Goose. A two lined nursery
rhyme that doesn't mean a damn thing. A kid who is so bored for a game
he jumps over lit candlesticks. And how about the fine grammar. Jack be
not written well.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack jump over the candle stick
* ... Arduous research has uncovered the fact that this rhyme was
actually longer and made much more sense but MG's publisher didn't like
the way it read.
Jack be stupid, Jack be thick
Jack burned his foot with the candle wick
Jack be clumsy, not so quick
He burned down the house with an unplanned kick
Jack be homeless.
* I really just wanted to use the word arduous. You just don't get to
do that too often.
A Mouse in a Clock?
Before I begin this one I just want to know one thing - what is
Hickory, Dickery, Dock? Who says that? What possible application could
this phrase have? Imagine if you will ...
"Hey Bill I was driving to work the other day and I almost got in an
"Really what happened?"
"Well there I am, just minding my own business and hickory, dickery
dock, a dude runs right in front of me!"
"Hickory, dickery, dock indeed Frank!"
Anyway, in this application there's a mouse and a clock
Hickory, dickery, dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickery, dock
First of all one and down don't rhyme. Why didn't she say, "The clock
struck one and the mouse was done?" Don't you think a loud-ass bell
would kill a tiny little mouse in a clock? I'll tell you why she didn't
rhyme it that way. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- because
she a stinking CRACKHEAD! What the hell is a mouse doing running up a
clock. There's no cheese in there. Who has mice problems in their
grandfather clocks I ask you? Who?
That Crazy Tom
Tom, Tom the piper's son
It was well known that the Toms had a crazy son. Why they decided to
name him Tom is simply cruel but it was an easy name to remember. His
sister Automa didn't fare so well. Anyway, being a piper was a big deal
where they lived so it was obvious why they always said, "There goes
Tom Tom the piper's son." Piping was a very important role in the
village. Why there was the rat problem and with Tom Sr. having received
his Master's in Pied Piping he was hot stuff. Tom wasn't so lucky.
Let's just say he wasn't as bright as the rest of the family and a bit
of a troublemaker
Stole a pig, away did run
Running with a pig is not the smartest way to steal it, especially
since it was still alive and it was three times heavier than he was.
The unfortunate truth was though, as everyone in town knew, Tom was a
bacon junkie and his addiction had now escalated into stealing pigs. It
was a sad road that would eventually lead him to despair and shame. Why
that week alone there were three reported pig thefts in town. Witnesses
described the culprit as "That Tom kid."
The pig was eat and Tom was beat
That was his motif. His challenge was not just to steal the pig but eat
it while on the run. He had heard through the grapevine that his
Guinness World record of eating stolen pigs while running was danger of
being broken by Dan Dan the baker's son. Now Tom being beat either
means Dan Sr. caught and beat him to a pulp so that his son could break
his record without challenge. Or he was beat after stuffing his face
with a live pig. It's your call.
And Tom went roaring down the street
Now if you go with option one in the last paragraph, he went roaring in
horrible plain, having been pummeled with a pig shank by Baker Dan. Or
if you go with option two (crazy Tom) here's how that would play.
Believing himself to be a wild boar Tom Tom took this option to avoid
anyone wondering why he was covered in pig's blood. Having seen Carrie
one too many times, he thought this was a fitting tribute to the film's
finale and while attempting to use his powers of telekinesis, killed a
carload of people, destroyed his house (with crazy mother inside) and
ended up trying to pull Amy Irving into the ground during a dream
Round and Round
Here we go round the mulberry bush
The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
He we go round the mulberry bush
All on a frosty morning
Here we go freezing our asses off
Our asses off, our asses off
Here we go freezing our asses off
To dance around a bush
We have nothing to do and have no toys
Have no toys, have no toys
We're dizzy and cold trying to fill this void
And our parents could care less
This stupid rhyme makes no sense
Makes no sense, makes no sense
The kids in this rhyme must really be dense
To be dancing in freezing weather
We danced in the cold till our toes fell off
Toes fell off, toes fell off
The bush crumbled up like a shriveled cloth
And we hobbled our way back home
Rodents sans Eyes?
Three blind mice, see how they run?
(cute -"see" how they run. An unbelievably weak attempt at cleverness
for Mademoiselle Goose)
They all ran after the farmer's wife
(Why? How do they know the farmer's wife from the farmer's cousin?
THEY'RE BLEEPIN' BLIND. HOW DO THEY EVEN KNOW THEY'RE MICE?!!!)
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife
(Okay two things - what kind of sick, demented, too much free time
after churning butter fool, cuts off the tails of mice. And two why a
carving knife. A steak knife won't do? Who is this woman? Perhaps she
needed the tails for her husband's favorite dish, Triple Tail Meatloaf.
The way it's prepared is you take the tails and stick them on the ends
of the meatloaf and viola! It's a good way to get it out of the oven
and after dinner you can make wishes on the tails)
Did you ever hear such a thing in your life
As three blind mice?
Did you ever read such a load of crap in your life as three blind mice?
I mean this isn't even rhyme now, it's idiotic. She might as well have
made them three blind dingoes because it would make as much sense
Alcoholic Children's Games
Ring a-round-a roses (a-round-a? That's a-weird-a)
A pocket full of posies (pocket full of what?)
Hush, hush, hush
We'll all tumble down
What irresponsible person went into the 7-11 and bought these kids some
malt liquor? It's just not right. How could they? This is what happens.
You get little kids dancing around mulberry bushes in the dead of
winter and in this case so drunk they're falling down in the middle of
an inane game where you stuff your pockets full of twigs and run around
in a circle. It's sad really. Originally pegged for a public service
announcement this little ditty was a bit too strong. Scenes of drunken
children fall down hills with pockets full of posies and discarded malt
liquor bottles all around as the voice over bellowed, "Friends, don't
let friends drink and collect posies in a field."
By the way, what the hell is a posie and why would you put it in your
pocket? I gotta tell ya these are some freaky kids in these
Little Boy Who?
Little boy blue come blow your horn
Ok on first appearances this seems all right. And the odd thing is a
lot of these rhymes start out promising. Then those hallucinogens kick
it and it's forks and spoons having sex or whatever. Here we have boy
blue, later famous for such hits as I'll Tumble For You and Karma
Chameleon but before his cross-dressing days he was known for his
wicked horn blowing.
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn
The cow's in the corn? Huh? Is this an inside joke for farmers? Is this
the parallel universe where cows eat corn and chickens eat grass? This
is what I mean about hallucinogens.
Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep?
Help me out here is this boy blue or is this another kid in charge of
sheep? Either way, why is he in charge of sheep. Isn't that a job for I
don't know --- SHEPHERDS MAYBE! What's the starting age for a shepherd,
three? Anyway, my guess is whoever this kid is he's got to be related
to that Bo Peep girl. Here's why
He's under the haystack fast asleep?
And you wonder why the Peeps suck at shepherding. She loses sheep with
magic tails and her brother naps in haystacks when he's supposed to be
watching sheep. How many generations of Peeps have lost these damn
sheep. Too many I say. And how do you sleep under a haystack without
suffocating? I bet the Peeps would make great baby-sitters for that
woman in a shoe.
Speaking of the Peeps
Little Bo-Peep, she lost her sheep
And didn't know where to find them
Let them alone, they'll all come home
And bring their tails behind them
You see it's common knowledge that sheep have a remarkable homing
ability like pigeons using, their tails as compasses. In fact during
the Carrier Pigeon Plague of 1649 carrier sheep were launched from
catapults to deliver messages and if their legs didn't break on
landing, they would make it back home remarkably - with their tails
behind them. If perchance a sheep had its tail in front the town was
evacuated as this was a clear sign of their world coming to an
As for Bo-Peep I think that's been covered. As I mentioned at the
beginning of this book - she's an idiot. Either that or her parents are
"Honey, why don't we go out today?"
"But who will watch the sheep?"
"Why Bo Peep of course."
"But honey she's only 8"
"So what? What could possibly go wrong"
"May I remind you of the time we let her valet park for the
"Party, shmarty. These are sheep. C'mon let's go."
"By the way, where's here brother?"
"Probably sleeping somewhere. Whatever."
How do you lose sheep? They're loud, smelly and have a big puffy
exterior. At best they can clock speeds at 4 or 5 mph? Unless launched
from a catapult.
Mo' sheep, mo' sheep, mo' sheep
What's with this Goose lady? Apparently she digs pastries and farm
animals. Ok I'll stop there.
Baa, baa, black sheep
Have you any wool?
Hold up. Who's talking to the sheep? And in the realm of stupid
questions, this wins. Have you any wool?
"Did I mention I'm a friggin sheep!"
Now we find out who's talking to the sheep
Yes, marry, have I
Three bags full
Marry have I? Who talks like this?
"Hey dude you got any chips left?"
"Marry have I dude, three chips."
Ridiculous. Just plain ridiculous. Much like the carrier sheep there
was also another breed of black sheep that often sheared themselves and
carried bags full of wool under their belly. For an extra couple of
bucks and some sweet talking you could get the black sheep to make a
sweater for you, just make sure marry had you some kibble.
One for my master
One for my dame
Isn't that sweet. He's got a bag for the guy who will eventually chop
him up and make a nice meal and one for his girlfriend - the bald sheep
who has no wool
But none for the little boy
Who cries in the lane
It's true. Big girls don't cry and boys who cry in the lane get no
wool from a bag carrying, talking sheep.
All Right With Jack Already
This is not a rhyme riff but merely an observation made by my wife that
rings true in the land of rhyme. Why are there so many stinking rhymes
with kids named Jack. Jack Horner, Jack be nimble, Jack and Jill, Jack
Sprat, Jack the Ripper. Enough already. Were people that unoriginal in
those days that they either repeated the first name or named their male
children Jack? Imagine trying to find your friend Jack at the theater
during a production of Pat-A-Cake with the lights out. Good luck. Now
back to the incessant ranting.
And another thing ...
This is just for people who have made it this far without
a. Chucking the book out the window. Although littering is illegal in
most states and burning the book is not recommended. The community
might not look lightly on that. On the other hand if you use it as
kindling for a juicy piece of steak or hot dogs or something well ...
who has to know?
b. Putting on the shelf and planning never to read it again but making
sure it's visible for when people come over. Like those faux book
things you see in furniture stores that have the classics on the
binding but it's just a piece of wood. In conversations you can say,
"Oh that book. Yeah it's cute." Or, "I think I have it somewhere,"
while pretending not to see it on the shelf, two inches from where
c. Reading the end. It was that Mustard guy with the candlestick
d. Asking yourself what the hell were you thinking buying this stupid
book in the first place and vowing never to read again. That would be
very sad but who needs reading right? After all it be goods only if
there aint no power and the cable be broken.
I say to you, congratulations. No you haven't won anything but how
often do you get congratulated for reading anymore? When was the last
time? Age five maybe? Imagine someone saying to you, "Good job Frank
nice reading on that Grisham novel. Good job, here's a sticker."
Wouldn't that be nice?
For the rest just pretend when asked and go, "Oh I loved that bit in
the middle where he wrote about being molested by goats."
Child Labor For Water
Jack and Jill went up a hill
To fetch a pail of water
A moment here please. For a time I'm assuming was before the industrial
revolution there sure were a lot of kids working. Working for cake, for
supper, for an old woman, doing parlor tricks. What's up with that? And
how about this for a lame brained idea. Let's put the well on top of
the hill and then send the kids to get it while we laze around under
haystacks. Let's send the clumsiest kid and his girlfriend/sister (you
figure it out) up a hill to carry something conceivably much heavier
than they are and then have them bring it back down. There had to be an
easier way. Of course you could always go on the premise that Jack was
just getting water for himself to shower or to boil some lard and Jill,
a co-dependent freak had to follow him up the hill. Enraged that he
only brought one bucket she pushed him down the hill but not before
realizing there was a root in front of her causing her to trip and
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
Broke his crown. King Jack, lord of the buckets I assume. Queen Jill o
ye of nothing to do but follow lord Jack up a hill. (Yes I know crown
is a simile for head but who cares. Haven't you been reading so far?
And then the two goats ....)
Who knew? Now I had no idea MG was behind the toe thing you do with
kids. I always get it wrong but knowing now how it is supposed to go, I
don't see how my version is any worse. See for yourself.
This little piggie went to market
This little piggie had none
This little piggie had roast beef
This little piggie had some
And this little piggie went weee all the way home.
See how incoherently cute that is? C'mon you know you like it. Can't
get it out of your head can you? HAH! Before you read the original most
of you know by now that the "piggies" somehow became toes on a foot and
you're supposed to like wriggle them or something while saying the
rhyme. When you get to the last one, the pinky piggie, you run your
fingers up the child tickling him or her and loads of laughter ensue.
Uh huh. At what point in history we went from rhyme to toes is
uncertain but I just don't get it. Toes? And now the original, uncut
masterpiece the way Mother Goose intended it.
This little pig went to market
This little pig stayed home
This little pig had roast beef
This little pig had none
This little pig cried wee, wee, wee,
All the way home.
Notice the lack of "piggie." Notice also pigs eating roast beef. Why
the last pig cries all the way home no one knows for sure but rumor has
it that Tom Tom was reported in the vicinity at the time causing a
massive scare among the pig community. The pig that stayed home well,
he was by and by the smartest. The one who went to market well, adios
El Gordo. And the one who had none, um ... he had ... loose end there.
If he had none, well so what? What dumb-ass farmer is feeding pigs
roast beef in the first place? Next thing you know pigs will be
building houses and hiding from wolves.
That Muffet Chick
In a land that time forget lived a little girl. She had no first name,
none at all and they called her --- (duh, duh, duh) Miss Muffet! While
the mature moniker was to her liking Muffet was actually only seven at
the time of this incredible tale.
It was a crisp morning when Miss (that's what they called her, "Excuse
me Miss," "Lookout Miss!" "Hey Miss you forgot your bag." The mean kids
called her Muffet head but she was beyond that) went over to the local
breakfast nook, The Baker's Man, to pick up some supplies and her
ritual order -- an extra large bowl of curds and whey -- to go. You
know the thing about curds and whey, you had to eat it cold. Unlike
Christmas pie, which you could eat in a corner with just a single
digit, curds and whey needed to be consumed with a spoon and only on a
tuffet. Now Miss had gotten a tuffet for her sixth birthday and it was
the talk of the town.
"Why it's the most beautiful tuffet I've ever seen. I hear it's even
has a built in spider repellent." (the town, unbeknownst to Miss, was
periodically ravaged by giant spiders)
"No, can't be, why have you told boy blue about it. He's deathly afraid
"No haven't seen him around. Heard he broke his horn. Anyhow, Miss had
hers made special on the fact that she likes curds and whey so
"Yeah she sure does. Heard she bought a year's supply of it."
"You don't say."
Over at Baker's Man, Dan Dan Sr. always had the curds and whey ready
for Miss every morning when she came around. And this morning was just
like the other. So in she came, got her grub and headed back to the
house for her delicious daily ritual. There she sat eating them
heartily and thinking about the future when she would one day have a
show with colorful puppets ... perhaps make the star a frog ...
Then out of nowhere it came. A spider the size of her horse and buggy,
sat down beside her. It was in a word, really incredibly unbelievably
horrifying. Mortified, Miss didn't know what to do (didn't know what to
do when it comes for you, bad boys, bad boys ~~~). A piece of curd and
whey dangled from her spoon, her mouth agape, her eyes glazed in fear.
She looked at this monstrosity as it looked at her. There eyes met. She
thought to herself, "I must kill it."
But she couldn't (duh, duh, duh)
So she ran, faster the fastest 7-year-old with a grown up name. But
the spider maintained pursuit until they both stopped at the town
square. There Miss and the spider locked horns in battle (speculation
was that she did in fact have horns seeing as how she was the devil and
all).Miss armed only with a spoon and her wit, began trying to scoop
out parts of this treacherous creature while the spider ( who became
known as El Tarantulo -- it was a small Spanish town in Mexico. Just
use an accent when you read back over the dialogue) went after her with
its steely jaws attempting to wrap her in a massive web. The battle
waged on for days. In the end, El Tarantulo wrapped Miss Muffet up, ate
her and carried on the curds and whey ritual until he died many years
later. How could you pass up a tuffet like that?
Drugs are good
Here now is proof positive that Mother Goose was a big ol cokehead with
a knack for rhyming but only to feed her drug habit. In fact this one
was written for her dealer just to get a hit. Her dealer later used
some of the lyrics in a wicked mandolin riff called "Meander Like
This," translated later roughly by his descendant Steven Tyler into a
hit rock and roll song.
Heigh, diddle, diddle
So heigh was she at the time MG gave up all sense of spelling
The cat and the fiddle
How many things rhyme with diddle that sound good? Let's try out a few,
whittle, spittle, bittle, hittle, tittle, little. Now add "The cat and
the" to that. You see where I'm going here?
The rest of this rhyme was barely etched out before consciousness
faded, leaving us with the most incoherent, ridiculous rhyme in the
history of nursery rhymes, which coincidentally is an excellent
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed
The see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
This is your brain on drugs, dipped in drugs and smothered with a
chocolate drug sauce.
Buckle This you Crazy Bird
As I've mentioned before so many start out promising. This one not only
started out with promise, it was kind of catchy too. In fact it had a
nice kind of flow to it
One, two, buckle my shoe
(That must have been funny to hear. "Hey, your shoes are
Three, four, shut the door
(nice transition here, good rhyme, I'll give it an 8.5)
Five, six, pick up sticks
(all right, we're drifting a little but still solid. Perfect segue for
the next line)
Seven, eight, lay them straight
(A stupid game no doubt and whoever got suckered into it must have
really hated 52 pickup but still, a nice flow, easy to follow. We're
looking at a top 10 here. And believe it or not people sing this to
kids. Whether or not they ever sing the second half is
Here's why ...
Nine, ten, a good fat hen
WHAT THE BLEEPING BLEEPITY, BLEEPIN BLEEP BLEEPITY BLEEP IS THIS!
(Sorry about the extra bleep)
A good fat hen? Not nine, ten, let's start again? Oh the horror. From
here down to 20 it deteriorates into what could only be described as
the "grabbing straws method" of poetry. Also known as the word
association method and the "whatever the hell rhymes with this word"
Eleven, twelve, who will delve?
(delve? Delve into what? Who will delve into what?)
Thirteen, fourteen, maid a-courting
(Here we go with that "a" thing again. Remember one-a-penny? And
fourteen and courting? Good one MG)
Fifteen, sixteen, maids a-kissing
(Mother Goose has maids on the a-brain. Perhaps her mother was a
Seventeen, eighteen, maids a-waiting
(Waiting for those who will delve? Huh? Waiting to be a-kissed?)
Nineteen, twenty, my stomach's empty
(Translation, I've got the munchies and I got lucky with twenty and
empty. Let's go down to ye ol Seventh &; Eleventh for some curds and
Hi, my name is Simple Simon, people call me Simple Simon
I'm going to the fair and I love pies (yeah definitely pies, definitely
Hey pieman, do you have any pies I can taste?
"Why we got apple pie, cherry, pie, apple-cherry pie, pineapple pie,
bananas pie .....
raspberry pie, blueberry pie, rhubarb pie, lemon meringue pie
..... watermelon pie ....
Six hours later
And coconut pie"
I like chocolate pie, my mamma always said, life is like a chocolate
pie, you never know how many you can eat until you try (three hundred
and -- sixty two, yeah definitely three hundred and sixty two)
"Hey Simon, show me a-penny dude?"
Well pieman I don't have any on the fact that my pockets are empty
which means that I'm surely broke, yeah definitely broke, yeah.
Old Mother Hubbard
(Alternately titled My drug dealer Big Daddy Bubble)
Old Mother Hubbard
(Big Daddy Bubble)
Went to the cupboard
(Sifted through the rubble)
To fetch her poor dog a bone
(To get his junkie goose a score)
But when she came there
(But when he arrived)
The cupboard was bare
(the cops did surprise)
And the poor dog had none
(And arrested him on a 1024.)
(The poor junkie goose never got her fix. This was a pivotal point
because from here Mother Goose went on to a life of crime stealing
loaves of bread, little fish from the pet stores, anything she could
get her webbed feet on. Finally she was caught and sent to jail and it
was there that she came upon the idea to make rhymes and some nice
shelves. A little known historical fact is that this poem was directly
inspired by that experience and because of it she learned she was able
to write crappy, utterly nonsensical and sometimes horrific rhymes to
children all over the world.
During her first term she finished this poem
Mother Hubbard grew thinner
Til the dog became dinner
From then on not a cupboard was bare
For Mother Hubbard you see
found it a treat to eat dog meat
And nevermore was a stray found near
What the hell is a cockle shell
Mary Mary quite contrary (there's that double name again)
How does your garden grow?
Ah the never-ending question. How does your garden grow? Long known in
the vernacular of the time as slang for "Hey baby, hook me up with some
blunts" Mary was another one of Goose's dealers. In fact, Mary was
considered public enemy number one in the neighborhood. Problem is no
one could ever catch her because of her so-called "garden." Clever one
that Mary Mary. Not like her pig eating brother Tom Tom.
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids in a row
Cockle shells? Cockle shells? I wish for Mike's sake someone could tell
me what produce store I can buy these in? Am I an idiot? That's it
isn't it? Does everyone but me know the answer to this question? I'm
not going to look it up. Why should I? Did I ever say this was a book
that had useful information. Geez! Some people ...
&;#8230; Alright fine!
&;#8230; You know what they are? If you don't know, they're
SHE'S GROWING SHELLFISH?
BLEEPIN BLEEPIN BLEEPITY, BLEEPITY BLEEPITY BLEEPITY. BLEEPIN BLEEPIN
BLEEPITY, BLEEPITY BLEEPITY BLEEPITY. BLEEPIN BLEEPIN BLEEPITY,
BLEEPITY BLEEPITY BLEEPITY. BLEEPIN BLEEPIN BLEEPITY, BLEEPITY BLEEPITY
And lest we no forget the silver bells shall we. You think Mary Mary's
cleaning up at the green market with her fresh cockle shell, silver
bell booth? I think not.
Groovy King Cole
Much like her pastry fascination, MG had a thing for royalty. Knaves,
queens, kings the whole damn castle. And guess what? They all liked
pastry. What's up with that?!
Except for King Cole also known as Old King Cole. (Modern versions have
his name as The Ruler formerly Known as Cole, but I digress.)
Word has it he was merry. When I say merry I mean this wacko was
laughing 24-7. You think King Loony with the eggs on precipices had
problems? Wanna know why he was merry all the time
"Bring me my bowl, pipe and three fiddlers."
That's the story. A king, a pipe, a bowl and three guys playing
fiddle. These are the things legends are made of. Dope legends. What do
you suppose is in the bowl? Cereal? How about the pipe? I mean I know
what the fiddlers were for. Let's just say that if the king had a royal
turntable and Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon album he wouldn't need
any fiddlers. So there he sat, listening to damn fiddle music all day,
laughing with his "pipe and bowl." It's good to be the king.
London Bridge is Too Damn Long
From a musical perspective, here you have what some jazz artists like
Miles and Coltrane used to put on their albums and call them "pieces"
and I used to play on the radio as a DJ when I needed a nap. This
London Bridge thing just goes on and on, first it's broken then they
build it, then it breaks. Sisyphus only had it so lucky.
What we have here are the world's dumbest architects trying to build a
bridge. Here are the minutes from their last bridge meeting.
"Ah we meet today here at Ladye Lea (yes that's how it's spelled) to
discuss - London Bridge. Apparently someone dumber than us built the
darn thing and it's broken down, broken down."
"Is it true it was because of a gay ladye (yes that's how it's stinking
spelled. Do I look like Queen Elizabeth! Get off my back already). How
shall we build it up again?"
Now if you've heard the tune, you hear "My fair lady." WRONG! I can see
why they changed it. "With a gay ladye" just doesn't have the same ring
does it? Lesbians of that time period were remarkably gifted in bridge
"I know with wood and clay!"
Thank you Captian Idiot but it will wash away. Now if you were building
a Pig's house ...
"Wood and clay? Iron and Steel? Silver and gold?
"No, no! Wood and clay will wash away, wash away,
"Excuse me sir?"
"Why do you keep repeating stuff?
"It's easier to sing. I'm looking to cut this as my first single. What
do you think?
"Really sucks, really sucks."
"What - ever! Iron and steel will bend and bow ... bow. Silver and gold
will be stole away ... away. We should focus on using ... Stone! We'll
build it up with stone so strong!
" Wondrous idea sir. What about the gay ladye?
" Why she'll help of course!"
The last bit of this rhyme is makes Mulder's pursuit of his sister seem
like a story on Dateline.
Build it up with stone so strong
Donce over my Lady Lea
Huzza! 'Twill last for ages long."
With a gay ladye.
What is going on with this gay ladye? Was there a lesbian builder's
union? I don't get it! Why on earth would a gay woman be involved with
watching a bridge that Twill last for ages long?
Can we talk about "Huzza!"
Mother Goose suddenly became Mush Mouth, "Hey Ba Fab buh Alba! Huzza
wanna builds a bridge a!
A downward pillow into insanity.
All I can say about this final part is that so many of these are
sooooooo stupid and insane you can't even rant about them. You will see
me trying but trust me, some things are better left unsaid.
Unfortunately this idiom wasn't part of MG's colloquial chatter. With
all the twill, betwixting and o'er going on, it's amazing they had time
for slang in between their lack of conjunctions in conversation .(No
Schoolhouse Rock either.) Their "Schoolhouse Rock" wasn't a collection
of catchy tunes designed to educate - it was a big rock used to
bludgeon town residents who won the lottery.
A Goose Gone Mad
Trying desperately to play off the success off of heigh diddle, diddle
after Aerosmith's album went platinum MG attempted a lame, inexcusable
sequel that just oozed with lunacy
Intery, mintery, cutery, corn
Alrighty then! You lost me at intery. Where could she go from here you
wonder? Oh so many places ...
Apple seed and apple thorn
Wine, brier, limber lock
Three geese in a flock
You know what they say, nothing goes with wine and brier like limber
lock. As a child growing up in the Hamptons mums and daddo always
served the finest limber lock when the Covingtons came over for Sunday
brunch. They would always enjoy it and say, "Martha, the apple seed,
apple thorn pie is absolutely smashing."
One flew east, one flew west,
And one flew over the goose's nest.
And with this masterpiece the stupidity began to flow like a basket of
mintery corn. On the up side 20th century breathmint scientists later
discovered they could use the extracts of intery and mintery for
Retsin, that sparkly stuff on Certs.
A song in the making
Cock a doodle doo!
My dame has lost her shoe
My master's lost his fiddling stick
And don't know what to do
Bad boys, bad boys
Watcha gonna do?
Watcha gonna do when you lost your shoe?
Bad boys, bad boys
Watcha gonna do?
Watcha gonna do , cock a doodle doo
You lost yo fiddlin stick
You got one shoe to wear
The cops are gonna bust you in your underwear
Bad boys .....
Before X-was a rating
You can make your own guesses on this next one but my guess is MG was
getting a little saucy. During these last days, not only did she imbibe
a great deal of ale and mintery corn but she did some other things most
goose poets only dreamed about.
Bryan O'Lin had no breeches to wear
Translation: The dude was naked in my bedroom
So he bought him a sheepskin and made him a pair
Translation: Went down to drugstore got himself protected
With the skinny side out and the wooly side in
"Ah, ha! That is warm!" Said Bryan O'Lin
Translation: Any guy that says "Ah ha!" in bed should be lonely a lot
more. Which would explain why he was with a goose. When interviewed
after the release of this poem, O'Lin denied ever having any relations
with a goose and claimed to in fact make sheepskin breeches for a
living as made evident by his store's name, O'Lin's Sheepskins. Catchy
T'other piece of drivel
I won't be my father's Jack
I won't bemy mother's Jill
I will be the fiddler's wife
And have music when I will
You see where this is going? Something about Green eggs and ham?
MG unfortunately was not so inspired
She wraps it up with this piece of loony tunes literature
T'other little tune
T'other little tune
Prythee, love, play me
T'other little tune
What the ^^\%*^(()( is this? T'other?
Did she have a stutter?
"Hey honey, could you pass me t'other shoe?"
Prythee. I'll say it again, any kid walking around town talking like
that would get the Christmas Pie beat out of him.
What is this stupid word? And what is this kid talking about? Anyone?
Bueller? History? Anyone? Bueller?
Just Plain Stupid
Draw the latch
Sit by the fire and spin
Take a cup,
And drink it up
And call your neighbors in
Would you like padding with that room Mrs. Goose?
But there's more
Here am I, little jumping Joan
When nobody's with me, I'm always alone
It's so sad to see people lose their minds isn't it? This poor goose
was hanging on for dear life at this stage. In this clear plea for help
she feels like stating the obvious is the only way left to rhyme. Other
gems never released include
Here I am, little sleeping Fred
If I drink lots of water, I wet my bed
And my favorite
My name is Luca, I live on the second floor (no wait, that's a
Here I am, little running Terry
If I don't shave, I'll get very hairy
And the winner is?
Still scrawling in chicken blood, MG finally snapped when writing this
lost jewel entitled,
This makes no sense and I don't care
Who comes here?
What do you want?
"A pot of beer."
Where is your money?
Get you gone,
You can't have a drop.
Where to begin? Forgot - drop. Commonly known in poetry circles as the
wiggety wack rhyming method where anything rhymes. A widely used chart
from this method is as follows
Coin - brown
House - Mistletoe
Rain - Coin
Moving on to the more apparent problem with the rhyme is the grenadier
looking for "beer." It all makes sense now. The Boston Massacre started
with a drunken grenadier. WWI really started because - drunken
grenadier killed the Duke. The Cold War? Started by communist drunken
grenadiers. It's all so clear now. The universe is whole again.
Looking back on this small literary work I can only reflect on the
works of my idols like, Faulkner, Shelley, Little Lord Fauntelroy, Poe,
Puff Daddy, Mix Master, me, Napoleon, Black Forest cake, Asimov,
Dickens, Don King, Raffi, Stolzynisomething like that (the Russian guy)
and all the other dudes and say, aren't you glad this wasn't a really
For those of you who have flipped to this page looking for an
And no she wasn't carrying his baby after all. It was his cousin who
ate the cole slaw.