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<My father peddles opium … >
Based, I assume, on Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics for Officer Krupke’s song in his and Leonard Bernstein’s ‘West Side story’.
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Carpal Tunnel
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this song first saw the light of day in the late 70s and new verses are added annually. who knows where the MIT kids come up with their lyrics (many of which are in "Bad Taste" (their characterization)). http://members.aol.com/tsuwm
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speaking of drinking songs, here's Homer Simpson's... (to the tune of the do re mi song) DO...... the stuff... that buys me beer. RAY..... the guy that sells me beer... ME...... the guy... who drinks the beer, FA...... a long way to get beer.... SO...... I'll have another beer.... LA...... I'll have another beer.... TEA..... no thanks, I'm drinking beer... That will bring us back to.... (Looks into an empty glass) .... D'OH! sorry... don't know what came over me there. http://members.aol.com/tsuwm
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Carpal Tunnel
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The Homer Simpson drinking song????
My, how the Supreme hath fallen! Talk about downhill!
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>>Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics for Officer Krupke’s song in his and Leonard Bernstein’s ‘West Side story’<<
Didn't you just love the line that preceded the song:
"Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived!"
Funny how things stick in one's memory! :o)
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Well, here's the only one I can think of. An old victorian poem that goes:
I am Queen Anne,
of whom 'tis said
am chiefly famed
for being dead.
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Two weeks late Anna, but your ditty has just given me quite a belly laugh. Like good wine keep it flowing.
Kow-tows and kudos to a greater presence!
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Sorry Anna, but I will resort to a Limerick - if only for the raeson that the subject is directly related to the pub that I have just left - The 'Lincoln' off Trinity College. Our famed bard (one of many) - Oliver St John Gogarty - was a regular there and he is said to have penned this verse (apologies to those with feint hearts):
There was a young man from St. Johns
Who wanted to roger the swans
'Oh, no' said the porter,
'Oblige with my daughter
but the birds are reserved for the dons'.
ba-boom.
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Well, Rubrick, I see that after Tsuwm started us on the downslope, you have taken us all the way to the gutter! 
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Rubrick – your limerick sent me to my overflowing bookshelves to find Conrad Aiken’s wonderful collection "A seizure of limericks" (there’s another collective noun!) so that I could enjoy again my favourite contemporary limerick, which begins:
It’s time to make love: douse the glim …
There are 50 of his quirky, witty, sensual limericks in this collection published in the mid-60s – try to find a copy if you don’t have it. Enjoy!
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