Monthly Archives: August 2011

Poem: Mercury Retrograde (or, Excuses)

(tongue-in-cheek, poking fun at the concept of Mercury retrograde and how much stock people sometimes put in it)
I can’t go into work today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I stay home, I don’t get paid,
But I cannot work today.

I can’t talk to Mother today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I chat, she’ll twist what I say!
I cannot call her today.

I can’t write my novel today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I try, all my words will stray!
No, I cannot write today.

I can’t get my car fixed today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I rent, they’ll give me a sleigh!
I cannot fix it today.

I can’t start vacation today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I go, I’ll die on the way!
I cannot travel today.

I can’t see my lover today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If we talk, I’ll never get laid!
I cannot see him today.

I can’t leave my cottage today,
Mercury’s in retrograde!
If I venture I’ll rue the day…

and so I think in bed I’ll stay,
I’ve time consuming games to play,
I’ll solitaire the day away!
I cannot go out today.

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Someone Else’s Filk: Baby Got Books, ttto Baby Got Back, by Jim Hines

http://jimhines.livejournal.com/591660.html

Ought To Be A Filk: Photographic Wordplay

image

I present this without further comment, other than “I saw this in the Lynnwood Fred Meyer yesterday.”

Filk: Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie CETAGANDA Snippet Thingy

ttto “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”, by Brian Hyland
Spoilers for CETAGANDA, a book from the Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMasters Bujold

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She was afraid to stagnate Cetaganda
And she was the Celestial Lady,
She was afraid to stagnate Cetaganda
Told the Consorts the plan she did see.
(2, 3, 4, tell the people what it’s for!)

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie haut race genebank rod-shaped thingy
That she swore to have copied eight ways.
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie haut race genebank rod-shaped thingy,
And so her servitor took it away!
(2, 3, 4, that was cool, but wait! There’s more!)

It was afraid to come out to the dock bay,
But it knew just what it had come for.
It was afraid to come out to the dock bay,
And Miles wondered what it panicked for.
(2, 3, 4, some Cetagandan wants a war!)

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie ill-disguised Ba servant thingy,
That touched a lump in its breast pocket grey.
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie ill-disguised Ba servant thingy,
And so the envoys got carried away.
(2, 3, 4, tell the people about the Vor!)

Now, Miles then yelled to Ivan a warning,
The Ba Lura then knew it would pay.
Miles then yelled to Ivan a warning,
And a weapon Ivan knocked away.
(2, 3, 4, tell us what the weapon’s for!)

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie nerve disrupter weapon thingy
That the Ba Lura was packing today
an itsy bity teeny weenie nerve disrupter weapon thingy
But Miles snatched it and took it away.

Cetaganda to the dock bay,
From the dock bay to the Vor
From the Vor back to its master,
Read the book to find out more.

Poem: Traitor Plum

Traiter plum, you are the pits,
looking so delicious, but your lacking gives me fits.
I ate you all to little bits
and I say you were so not worth it!

Poem: Tonecheck (NSFW. No, really.)

(Should be read fast, with awkward pauses for gasping breath and hysterical laughter. Maybe you had to be there.)
Your mom.
Fuck your mom.
Fuck your dad.
Fuck your sister.
Fuck your brother.
Fucking!
Fuck your grandma.
Fuck your grandpa.
Stab you in the face.
Go die in a fire.
I am testing Tonecheck. In case anyone was wondering.
Cut off your balls.
I want to cut off your balls.
I want to suck your cock.
I want to suck your dick.
Dick.
Cock.
Cocksucker.
Motherfucker.
Sucking cock.
Rocketship.
My car.
I don’t care.
I don’t fucking care.
Pussy.
Cunt.
Coochie.
Tits.
Meat curtain.
Wang.
Penis.
Vulva.
Breast.
Breasts.
Nipples.
Cum.
Cum on my face.
Sexy.
Sexy ass.
Sexy cunt.
Sexy bitch.
Bitch.
You’re a hot mess.
You’re a bitch.
Fucking bitch.
Whore.
Fucking whore.
Anal.
Do you take it in the ass?
I will fuck you in the ass.
I promise to fuck you.
I will fucking fuck you.
I want to die.
You want to die.
You should die.
Die in a chemical fire.
Die in a fire.
Die in a fucking fire.
Never set the cat on fire.
Flaming balls!
I love your balls.
Your balls are so hot.
Fist me!
You’re so stupid.
Stupid fucker.
Stupid bitch.
I’ll aggress you!

Written as a result of testing the product for Chrome and Gmail at http://www.tonecheck.com.