[pikey]

Tell the baby’s father to get a proper job. That should bring in some more money.

[pikey]

Extrospection One

Bumble and tumble and
Well, I’ll go to the foot of our stairs
Oh, that hurt
That’s broken

Bumble and tumble and
Fancy trying to hold on to the stick
Old stiff fool
That is broken

Bumble and tumble and
And I’m on my back, too hurt to move
It is late
Certainly broken

Bumble and tumble and
Maybe knock the ‘phone off its perch
All the nines
Ambulance, please

[pikey]

Also:

The more a man cultivates the arts, the less often he gets an erection.
He creates a more and more perceptible divorce between the spirit and the brute.
Only the brute gets really good erections, and copulation is the lyricism of the masses.
To copulate is to aspire to enter into another – and the artist never emerges from himself.
I’ve forgotten that slut’s name . . . Oh, well, I’ll be reminded of it on the Day of Judgement.

Intimate Journals ~ Charles Baudelaire

[pikey]

Is dub allowable if we invoke the Pink Ting Soda rule variation?

[pikey]

Police & Thieves ~ Junior Murvin

[pikey]

I’ve been thinking about what you have done to me
The damage is much deeper than you’ll ever see
Hit me like a hammer to my head
I wonder were you pushed or were you led?

Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
The only one who knows the truth,
Man, that’s him, me and you.

My friends they listen to the things I say
They listen and they hear more everyday
But I know they never understand it
Because it was no accident, you planned it.

Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
The only one who knows the truth,
Man, it’s him, me and you.

One, two

I’ve been thinking about what you have done to me
The damage is much deeper than you’ll ever see
Hit me like a hammer to my head
I wonder were you pushed or were you led?

Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
Why did you do it? Why did you do that thing to me?
The only one who knows the truth,
Man, that’s him, me and you

Why Did You Do It? ~ Stretch

[pikey]

I believe the semantic difficulties inherent in the argument could be resolved by employing the descriptive term blades to the items in question.

Guns for show, knives for a pro. Or so I’m told.

[pikey]

Between our eastward and our westward sea
The narrowing strand
Clasps close the noblest shore fame holds in fee
Even here where English birth seals all men free
Northumberland.

The sea-mists meet across it when the snow
Clothes moor and fell,
And bid their true-born hearts who love it glow
For joy that none less nobly born may know
What love knows well.

The splendour and the strength of storm and fight
Sustain the song
That filled our fathers’ hearts with joy to smite,
To live, to love, to lay down life that right
Might tread down wrong.

They warred, they sang, they triumphed, and they passed,
And left us glad
Here to be born, their sons, whose hearts hold fast
The proud old love no change can overcast,
No chance leave sad.

None save our northmen ever, none but we,
Met, pledged, or fought
Such foes and friends as Scotland and the sea
With heart so high and equal, strong in glee
And stern in thought.

Thought, fed from time’s memorial springs with pride,
Made strong as fire
Their hearts who hurled the foe down Flodden side,
And hers who rode the waves none else durst ride
None save her sire.

O land beloved, where nought of legend’s dream
Outshines the truth,
Where Joyous Gard, closed round with clouds that gleam
For them that know thee not, can scarce but seem
Too sweet for sooth,
Thy sons forget not, nor shall fame forget,
The deed there done
Before the walls whose fabled fame is yet
A light too sweet and strong to rise and set
With moon and sun.

Song bright as flash of swords or oars that shine
Through fight or foam
Stirs yet the blood thou hast given thy sons like wine
To hail in each bright ballad hailed as thine
One heart, one home.

Our Collingwood, though Nelson be not ours,
By him shall stand
Immortal, till those waifs of oldworld hours,
Forgotten, leave uncrowned with bays and flowers
Northumberland.

Northumberland ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne

[pikey]

What the devil is the matter with you, man? Snap out of it, you big girl.

Fellows, if you’re arn
I will spin a yarn
That was told to me by Able Seaman Jones.
Once he had the blues
So he took a cruise
Far away from night-clubs and from saxophones.
He said, “Yo Ho, I’ve made a certain port
And when you talk about real he-man sport”:

Hot ginger and dynamite
There’s nothing but that at night
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
The way they can entertain
Would hurry a hurricane
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky wacky
Woo.

In Fujiama
You get a mama
Then your troubles increase.
In some pagoda
She orders soda
Earth-shake milk-shakes, ten cents a piece.
They kissy and huggy nice
Oh, By Jingo! I’ts worth the price.
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.

Now when the day is warm
You can keep in form
With a bowl of rice beneath a parasol.
Every gentle man
Has to use a fan
And they only use suspenders in the fall.
That’s where the girls don’t think of rings and furs.
Gosh, it’s the nicest place that ever weres.

They give you a carriage free
The horse is a Japanee
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.
They sit you upon the floor
No wonder your pants get sore
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.

With Sweet Kimoner
I pulled a boner
I kept it up at high speed.
I got rhumatics
And then psyatics
Halatosisis, that’s guarenteed.
You just have to act your age
Or wind up inside a cage
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.

With an ice-cream cone and a bottle of tea
You can rest all day by the hickory tree
But when night comes round, oh gosh oh gee,
Mother, mother, mother, pin a rose on me.

Those pretty mamas
In pink pyjamas
They try to give you a kiss
Those torid teases
In B.V.D.ses
Heaven help a sailor on a night like this!
Not too gentle and not too rough
But you’ve got to tell them when you’ve had enough
Back in Nagasaki
Where the fellers chew tobaccy
And the women wicky-wacky
Woo.

Nagasaki (The Foxtrot Riot) ~ Pete Krebs & The Kung Pao Chickens

[pikey]

I actually think there may be something to all of this.

Oh, wait a minute. No. No I don’t.

[Author]

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