jespah wrote:Taupe doesn't count?
It does but only up to 10. Then it has to take off its shoes.
Quick, somebody grab Andrew before he does harm to himself.
Yeah! And do harm to him! Prophylactic harm! Yeah!
(misuse of prophylaxis, of course. what the hell is wrong with kids today?)
Thanks, bun bun. Sometimes I swear I think I'm human.
patiodog wrote:Thanks, bun bun. Sometimes I swear I think I'm human.
If you were a kid you'd eat ivy too.
If I was a kid, by now you'd be callin me Billy, I think.
patiodog wrote:If I was a kid, by now you'd be callin me Billy, I think.
I think of you as "Patty" or "Pat Pats".
Or Patsy, if you're so inclined, though I will not stand by it.
We can't stand Pat, although I dunno what she did to deserve that.
Phonetic, it is. Parenteral nutrition via the intravenous (or, if'n you pre-fur, ivy) route for this old dog were this old dog a young goat, goatish though I be as I get older.
Clear?
Nup.
You higgoramuses.
Mares Eat Oats
- Mairzy Doats -
Words & Music by Milton Drake, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston
I know a ditty nutty as a fruitcake
Goofy as a goon and silly as a loon
Some call it pretty, others call it crazy
But they all sing this tune:
Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
Yes! Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
If the words sound queer and funny to your ear, a little bit jumbled and jivey
Sing "Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy"
Oh! Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you-oo?
A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?
(REPEAT)
Damn you rabbit. Can't get the thing out of my head now.
Intrepid wrote:Damn you rabbit. Can't get the thing out of my head now.
Heheheheh
You can listen to it here, I gather.
http://www.umkc.edu/lib/spec-col/ww2/WarNews/rams/c/mairzydoats.ram
And here be mondegreens:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mondegreen
Mondegreens be OK, but I prefer collards my own self.
Ah, yes. The green, green grass of home.
Keep off the grass, Intrepid. Narcs lurk hereabouts, prob'ly.