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  1. #1
    Join Date
    Nov 2003
    Location
    East Geelong
    Age
    95
    Posts
    3

    Default Pretentious Nursery Rhymes.

    Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn
    The sheep's in the meadow,
    The cow's in the corn...
    or
    Dimunutive child of cerulean hue,
    Come ullulate on your cornu
    The bovine woolmaker is now a-lea
    And the ruminant heifer is stealing barley.

    Mary had a little lamb,
    It's fleece was white as snow,
    And everywhere that Mary went,
    The lamb was sure to go
    or
    Mary had a callow sheep,
    With pellicule of niveous hue,
    Ubiquitous though Mary was,
    It was inured to pursue.

    To market, to market,
    To buy a fat pig,
    Home again, home again jiggetty-jig
    To market, to market,
    To buy a fat hog,
    Home again, home again, joggetty-jog
    or
    To indulge our preference for corpulent porkers,
    We travel where goods are presented by hawkers
    Then, jerkily bobbing along the hard road,
    We retreat to the peace of our native abode.
    To indulge our preference for corpulent boar,
    We employ the same method to that used before....
    If at first you don't succeed, try, try again-- then give up.
    It's no use bashing your head against a wall!

  2. #2
    Join Date
    May 2005
    Location
    Burnett Heads, QLD
    Age
    65
    Posts
    305

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Dendot
    Mary had a little lamb,
    It's fleece was white as snow,
    And everywhere that Mary went,
    The lamb was sure to go
    Mary had a little lamb
    its fleece was black as charcoal
    every time it jumped the fence
    you could see its small brown eyes roll

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Jul 2002
    Location
    Albany WA
    Age
    84
    Posts
    227

    Default

    Mary had a little lamb
    and her father shot the ram.

    It only takes one drink to get me loaded. Trouble is, I can't remember if it's the thirteenth or fourteenth.

  4. #4
    Join Date
    May 2005
    Location
    Burnett Heads, QLD
    Age
    65
    Posts
    305

    Default

    ill give the above post 10 minutes,

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Nov 2003
    Location
    East Geelong
    Age
    95
    Posts
    3

    Default

    As far as the originator of the first one- 'Little Boy Blue' It was me; the others were taken-(stolen) from a book, which my daughter brought me back from U.K. on a recent trip. It's called 'One Hundred Pretentious Nursery Rhymes' by Michael Powell.
    If at first you don't succeed, try, try again-- then give up.
    It's no use bashing your head against a wall!

  6. #6
    Join Date
    Jun 1999
    Location
    Westleigh, Sydney
    Age
    78
    Posts
    1,332

    Default

    To the tune of Waltzing Matilda...
    Once a jolly vagabond
    Sat down by a lilly pond
    Under the shade of a Royal Oak tree
    And he sang as he sat and waited while his kettle boiled
    Who'll come a waltzing a bulldog with me?

    Down came a hedgehog to drink at the lily pond
    Up jumped the vagabond and grabbed it with glee
    And he sang as he shoved that hedgehog in his haversack
    Who'll come a waltzing a bulldog with me?

    Down came the constable mounted on his bicycle
    Up came the beefeaters 1, 2, 3
    Where's that jolly hedgehog you've got in your haversack
    You'll come a waltzing a bulldog with me.

    Up jumped the vagabond & sprang into the lilly pond
    You'll never take me alive said he
    And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that lily pond
    Who'll come a waltzing a bulldog with me?
    Visit my website
    Website
    Facebook

  7. #7
    Join Date
    May 1999
    Location
    Tooradin,Victoria,Australia
    Age
    74
    Posts
    2,515

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by doug the slug
    ill give the above post 10 minutes,
    Missed it last night, must have been tired.

  8. #8
    Join Date
    May 2005
    Location
    Burnett Heads, QLD
    Age
    65
    Posts
    305

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by
    Missed it last night, must have been tired.
    Come on , get with the program, mate. i even put a sign on it for you. next time will i send up a flare?

  9. #9
    Join Date
    May 2004
    Location
    Moo, G'day from CASINO NSW the real home of Beef.
    Age
    59
    Posts
    445

    Default

    Mary had a little Lamb,
    on a bed of potato and leek, t'was beautiful. :eek:
    Bruce C.
    catchy catchphrase needed here, apply in writing to the above .

  10. #10
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Location
    Brisbane
    Age
    61
    Posts
    52

    Default

    Mary Had a Little Lamb

    And the Midwife Fainted

    Cheers Bio
    ____________________________________

    Signatures should be an evolving Machination

    http://www.spearheadvibrations.com/video.html

    Stay human

  11. #11
    Join Date
    Jul 2005
    Location
    Oberon, NSW
    Age
    64
    Posts
    0

    Default

    If we're gonna sink to that level...

    Mary had a little lamb,
    Her father shot it dead.
    It follows her to school each day,
    Between two slabs of bread.


    Mary had a little lamb
    And a little bear.
    I often see her little lamb,
    I'd like to see her bare.


    Mary had an old tin cow,
    She milked it with a spanner.
    A quart of milk for thrupenny,
    A gallon for a tanner.


    Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet,
    Eating her curds and whey.
    Along came a spider and sat down beside her,
    Then Little Miss Muffet did say:
    "Rack off hairy-legs!"
    I may be weird, but I'm saving up to become eccentric.

    - Andy Mc

  12. #12
    Join Date
    Sep 2005
    Location
    Brisbane
    Age
    61
    Posts
    52

    Default

    With Sincerest Apologies to Mr. Edgar Allan Poe

    This was penned in frustration to cleaning out many many rat cages and for the uninitiated
    Raisins are in the Rodent Lovers world another name for little black pebbles of
    Rat SH*t

    THE CAGE CLEANIN'

    Cleaning' Quoth Louie Nevermore?

    Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
    Rat crap piled high and pelleted paper on the floor,
    Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing
    cage cleanin'.
    Having reached the bottom line I took a rat from the door,
    I then invoked the don't command and waited for the stasher to store,
    Only this and nothing more.

    Deep into the cage I'm peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
    Doubting, while the rats kept chewing, turning yet to chew some more.
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
    "Sleep" I said, "You cursed beasties! Save my sanity once more!"
    One thing did the Ratties answer, only this and nothing more,
    Just, "Cleaning Cleaning you shall do Forevermore"

    Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
    These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
    Carefully I weighed the choices as the Ratlets made impish noises.
    Trixie, flashed insistent, waiting, baiting me to clean some more.
    Clearly I must pick up raisins, choosing one from piles on the floor,
    Bruxing Heartily, Cage Cleaning is Your Chore!"


    With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the litter tray bending,
    Longing for a happy ending, hoping the cage would be restored,
    Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I removed offending container.
    But on the ramp there still persisted pebbles magically appearing as before.
    Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
    Saying "We give you Raisins, Rasins Raisins Galore"

    I tried to catch the Rats off guard, and snatch and grabbed, but twice as
    hard.
    I pleaded with the cursed Beasties: I begged and cried and then I swore.
    Now in mighty desperation, trying random machinations,
    Still they laughed the incantation, just as senseless as before.
    Never blinking, Evilly winking, Chuttering nonsense as before.
    Bruxing, "Raisins Raisins Give Her More!"

    There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own Pets accosted.
    Getting up I turned away and paced across the Rattery floor.
    And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
    A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
    The lightning was our own sweet Trixie my Darling Rescue, Tossing Raisins on
    my floor.
    Not even, "Sneakily, Quietly Invisibly as Before"

    To this day I do not know the place to which excess Raisins must go.
    What demonic nether world us wrought where Litter Tray Order must be
    Restored,
    Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
    But sure as there's Compost, Pot Plants, Bins and much much more,
    You will one day be left to wander, lost, insane alone once more,
    Pleading, Insanely, Babbling, Blubbering "Raisins' Raisins' Raisins' Forever
    More"
    ____________________________________

    Signatures should be an evolving Machination

    http://www.spearheadvibrations.com/video.html

    Stay human

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