I’ve been away all day, and now I’m trying to catch up with all these !$#@%!*%?#!! emails.
The fridge is stocked with Yuengling, and there’s a big bowl of cheese curls on the table. Y’all can sit down and chat with each other or otherwise amuse yourselves until normal service resumes.
[Post ends here]
Mea culpa! I can only hope that the emails I sent you provide some decent grist for future posts.
There was an Old Man of Whitehaven
There was an Old Man of Whitehaven,
Who danced a quadrille with a Raven;
But they said, ‘It’s absurd. To encourage this bird!’
So they smashed that Old Man of Whitehaven
– Edward Lear
There once was a man from Japan
Whose limericks were quite hard to scan
When he was asked why
He would simply reply
I always try to fit as many words into the last line as I can
― Eliott Kuhner ―
There once was a lady named bright
Who could travel at speeds faster than light
She went out on day
In a relative way
And arrived the previous night
An amazing bird is the pelican
His beak holds more than his belly can
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week
But I’m damned if I see how the hell he can
― Ogden Nash ―
There was a young girl named Anheuser
Who said that no man could surprise her
But Old Overholt
Gave her virtue a jolt,
And now she is sadder Budweiser
Another Lear:
There was an Old Man of Berlin,
Whose form was uncommonly thin;
Till he once, by mistake, was mixed up in cake,
So they baked that Old Man of Berlin
An old syllogistic logician
Plied his craft with a great sense of mission.
With the last Q.E.D.
He said, “That’s all for me,”
Hung a sign on his door, and went fishin’.
This one is only for hardcore math freaks.
—
A young man conducted flirtations
Whilst deriving Laplace transformations.
The girls took delight
And engaged him all night
In partially ordered relations.
Baron, you are cruel. We don’t get Yuengling out here in Socialist California. I’d really love to stock my fridge with that. ;_;
Yuengling and y’all?
A mix of the north and the south Baron?
Baron Bodissey: Hung a sign on his door, and went fishin’.
As the old saying goes:
Give a man a fish
and he eats for a day
Teach a man to fish
and he drinks for a lifetime
Charlemagne —
Yuengling is widely available here in Redneckia, and is the best beer for the price — less than $5 a sixpack at our local country store.
I visited Pottsville a few years ago and was favorably impressed, especially given that the town is in Yankeeland.
For your delectation, with apologies to Allan Sherman:
Camp Jihada
Hello mullah, hello muttawa
Here I am at, Camp Jihada
Camp is pious, I’m just saying
And they say we’ll have some fun once we’re done praying
I went hiking with Ali Balbeks
And his backpack was full of Semtex
You remember Hakeem Heyder
He got lashes for not eating all his dinner
All the Shiites hate the Sunnis
And they both think, the Kurds are loonies
The mullah wants no, Omar Khyams
So he reads to us from something called the Koran
Now I don’t want, this should scare ya
But the imams are preaching terror
You remember Jibril Wazi
Now he wants to go and be a kamikaze
Take me home, oh Madaar Pedar
Take me home, I hate Jihada
Don’t leave me out in, Sadr City
Where I might get blown to pieces, itty bitty
Take me home, I promise I will be holy
Thinking pure thoughts, only them solely
The imam forbids me to say
I’ve been here one whole day
Dearest Pedar, darling Madaar
How’s my precious little baraadar?
Let me come home, if you miss me
I would even let Aunt Sophie hug and kiss me
Wait a minute, they’ve stopped praying
Try this vest on, the mullah’s saying
Seventy virgins, gee that’s better
Madaar Pedar, kindly disregard this letter.
Musical Interlude:
High Germany sung by Luke Kelly.
Con te partirò sung by Andrea Bocelli.
Begin the Beguine performed by Artie Shaw.
But, Mr. Adams sung by the cast of 1776.
Roving Journey Man sung by Delia Murphy.
With apologies to George Wyle and Sherwood Schwartz
(Sung to the tune of “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Isle”)
Now sit right back, and you’ll hear a tale,
a tale of a huge death cult.
That started in the Middle East
with a pedophilic dolt
The prophet was a savage thug,
his followers washed with sand
They left a trail of blood and death
across the Holy Land, across the Holy Land.
The Christians started getting rough
Jerusalem was lost
Knights Templar took al Aqsa Mosque
El Cid, the Moors he tossed
A tent was pitched on the edge of an unconquered Bedouin pile
With Mohammad
His dozen wives
A camel and a knife
A moon and star
A prayer rug and his Qu’ran
That’s what makes Islam so vile
So this is the tale of the Musselmen,
they’ve warred for a long, long time.
They’ve made the very worst of things,
they’ve got an uphill climb.
The imams and the mullahs too,
will do their very best
To make Infidels uncomfortable
and war upon the West
No phone, no lights no motor cars,
They’ve not invented shit
They wipe their butts with rocks instead
Then beat their wives a bit
For a caliphate, jihad they wage
Like Nazis they sieg heil
We’ll nuke them back to the stone-age,
because Islam’s so vile.
― by Zenster ―
Baron,
My wish is simply for you to enjoy and I will share in a cold one to your respite, alas without any cheese curls but homemade chips, with very hot salsa and tiny chunks of Habenero peppers.