i prefer to be addressed as "The Great Lord of Og"...
Row, row, row your boat
(which, because you've been living on it for quite some time now, is so riddled with your own external and internal bacterial flora that it has become, on a microbial level, an extension of yourself)
Gently down the stream
(the stream that was pristine at the outset, but now, weeks down the trek, and with the contribution of tributary after city after city after inlet after steamer, is now a wide, muddy river of industrial waste and sewage)
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
(narily, scarily, warily, charily)
Life is but a dream
(the dream, sadly, of the Germ King, the Great Lord of Og, disease incarnate, the Emporer of Infectus -- but a dream nonetheless. Long live the King!)
Samuel Langhorne Clemens we're not.
patiodog wrote:Samuel Langhorne Clemens we're not.
We ain't even Ogden Nash.
But that's okay because we are very brash
In attacking the little paramecium
In this thesis. Ummm?
Watch out for tiny paramecia
For as soon as they meets ya, they fleece ya
patiodog wrote:Watch out for tiny paramecia
For as soon as they meets ya, they fleece ya
Don't take your spouse where they divide
Or soon in coffin s/he'll be lied.
The worms crawl out and the worms crawl in
The ones that go in are lean and thin
The ones that go out are fat and stout
Your eyes fall in and your teeth fall out
Your brains come tumbling down your snout
Be merry, my friends, be merry!
sobering....
You get out of the wrong side of the bed, Patio?
That's as merry as Patiodog can get.
And I've always wanted to ask : What is a patiodog? What is the story behind that name, that word.
Joe(words fascinate me, but then so do shiny objects)Nation
Not a story, really. There's an old stuffed animal plushie toy thing -- a floppy dog, naturally -- who we decided some time ago was Irish. So naturally his name is Patty O'Dog.
I liked the name, I phoneticized it, I had no idea I would use it for so long.
Regrettable, perhaps, but there it is.
When the Pogues sing the song it's fairly merry, with creaking bass clarinet and whatnot. Perhaps not as merry as Andrew, but there it is.
I imagined it completely differently. I had you having a bunch of dogs, some with house privileges (housedog) and some outside hounds(yarddogs) with one having the middling license to rest on the patio.
I love Paddy O'Dog, great name for a philandering uncle.
Joe(now that's settled. This thread is over)Nation
Re: the front car of the A-train: are you in the car, or mounted on front like a buxom babe sailing tits first into uncharted waters below the bowsprit of an old ship?
Are you going to Sugar Hill way up in Harlem?
Never get on the subway car, always get IN the subway car.
Sugar Hill is at the 145th stop on the A as well as the D, the B and the C trains. It wouldn't have sounded the same though. Somewhen in my life, I heard the story that Duke Ellington was explaining to Charlie Mingus how to get to his house and said the phrase "You must take the A train to get to Sugar Hill in Harlem." Hey, the rest is history and the little bump that the words "way up" gives the line in the music.
Joe(I hope now you sufficiently bored with this thread)Nation
Why would you wish this thread dead? It's sort of become where I sit alone with my beer and crossword and books and wait for the odd person want to come over and have a few words about nothing in particular.
It's bad enough that they turned the old bar where my buddy ran the rail into a goddamn Cosi's, you've gotta try and kill this thread, too? Whassamattayou?
this thread is dead to me...
Why, dear little germie friend?
And what the hell is with the rest of you glooms?
Whatchoo talking about, "glooms?" I'm in the middle of a riveting orthopedic surgery exam (the kind where my knowledge of said subject is examined), and I truly and positively could not be more ecstatic.
<yawn>
