More Of Your Favorite Nursery Rhymes

Little Tommy Tucker

Little Tommy Tucker isn't singing for his supper

What shall we give him? We asked him but he stutters

How do we know what he wants?

How can we tell if he's nuts?

Do we send him to a speech therapist

Or do we lock him, hungry, in his closet?

I'm a Little Teapot

I'm a little despot

Short and stout

I brainwash my people

That I'm a god, without a doubt

When I get all steamed up

My people hear me shout

"I'm going to threaten to nuke

so our enemies will shake about

and if that doesn't work out

I'll have no choice but to sit here

and pout, pout, pout!"

One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

One, two, buckle my shoe

Three, four, knock at the door

Five, six, deflate the blow up doll

Seven, eight, put it beneath the bed

Nine, ten, open the door with fly unzipped

Eleven, twelve, at the door, a woman doth scream

Thirteen, fourteen, my penis still drips

Fifteen, sixteen, I try to think up a scheme

Seventeen, eighteen, the woman drops to her knees

Nineteen, twenty, oh those blessed lips

Ding Dong Bell

Ding, dong, bell,

What's that goddamn smell?

And why the sly grin?

Did you cut the cheese?

What did you eat?

Some kind of maggoty meat?

What a disgusting fiend you are

To fart without warning

In my brand new car

Now I'm going to stop and get out

To beat you severely

With my heavy new iron bar

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Row, row, row your boat

Too close to a Somali pirate ship

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

Your day's about to turn to shit

Old King Cole

Old King Cole was a scary old politician

And a scary old politician was he;

As he stonewalled on job creation

As he called for misinformation

As the poor were in desperation

And every rich man became richer

And had clever machinations indeed

Oh, there's none so rare as can compare

With King Cole and his corporate strings

There Was a Crooked Man

There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile,

He dated a crooked woman, who had plenty of style.

He bought a crooked house, which was built on a slant

Then he saw his new wife in bed, fucking an eggplant

For more of your favorite nursery rhymes-- CLICK HERE

Fun Houses

When I was a little kid, I'd go to the town fair and they would always have either a really crazy looking fun house or a terrifying one. The first time I entered inside a fun house, I got trapped in this tumbler kind of thing that spun you up and over, round and round (like a clothes dryer) until you received a concussion or fractured elbow. Loads of fun. This was back in the late 60's and early 70's where they didn't give much thought to safety issues. Then there would be the claustrophobic mirror rooms to contend with. I'd walk into mirrors, almost in tears, trying to get the fuck out. I almost had a seizure from the panic attacks endured, trapped in those rooms. Luckily, I wasn't scarred for life having been exposed to that shit. Just a few years.

On the subject of fun houses, this seems to be the kind of house that would be fun to live in.

What's that nursery rhyme about the old woman that lived in an over sized shoe, had so many children, she didn't know quite what to do-- so she let the government foot the bill, keeping the rugrats fed, schooled and clothed while her vagina steadily grew to the size of a fun house?

Yeah, you know the one. I think she lived here, in the fun house pictured below. After awhile, the woman, a human vending machine, didn't bother going through labor or pushing down hard to get the bloody little bundle of joy out of her ever-widening gaping clam. She needn't try. Often times, she'd bend over to pick up a lit cigarette that fell out of her blubbery mouth or a dropped, halfway drunken can of beer and the lil' cutie would just kind of plop out onto the roach-infested floor.

The old woman (who just looked old because she was a meth addict) wouldn't know she had given birth until she stumbled back and tripped over the infant, causing it to cry out, cursing it's very existence into this world and the fact that it's mother was a drug addled whore with festering sores covering 80% of her body. Luckily, the kid rolled out of the way, onto a bed of dead rats, before it could be crushed by the stinking behemoth.

Later, the darling little baby couldn't tell whether it was sucking on a nipple, during breast feeding or a pus-filled skin ulcer that reminded one of a strange, nightmarish teat.

Otherwise, it was a nice house. Friendly neighborhood, too.

The next pic isn't so much of a house as it is a photo of a building. But it would make a nice house. Sure, it's been through a couple earthquakes, but hey, no house is perfect.

This next one is a bounce house. They call these things fun houses, too. People buy and rent these "civil lawsuits in the making" for their kids' parties. It's supposed to keep the kids occupied. They jump all around in these big inflatable enclosed rooms, cracking their heads and bones together, causing each other to scream and cry and have all kinds of related fun.

All I see, when I look at one of these things, is the end result. Someone always manages to get hurt and bloodied. Yes, indeed, nothing says "party time", more adequately, than one of these plastic, injury-causing monstrosities. Good luck with one of these fuckers at your next kiddiefest!

At least this next "fun house" has a sense of humor. Sure, the neighborhood kids, your offspring and their rabble of pals will sustain multiple broken bones, chipped teeth and contusions, but at least they'll be able to come tumbling out of a rabbit's asshole, eventually. Gotta look on the bright side!

This next shot is for an establishment that is a kind of "fun house" for grown ups. This fun house is a bar and grill in my general area. I've wanted to take a picture of this sign forever, but didn't do it until a month ago. "Hummers" is a really nice name for a bar, isn't it? Big red lips, right there on the sign for the place. Great piece of advertising, that is. A place you can go, get sloshed and meet that special someone.

Someone that's just perfect for giving you a hummer, hence the name.

After getting your hummer for the night, why not make a stop at this next fun house. At this fun house, you can eat all the doughnuts you desire, while the doughnuts busily soak up all the alcohol in your belly. Afterwards, if you haven't thrown up all the doughnuts in the toilet bowl in the back room, you may decide to make a return visit to Hummers and do it all over again.

And wouldn't that be fun?

Your Favorite Nursery Rhymes

All Around The Mulberry Bush

All around the mulberry bush

I decided to chase a weasel

This monkey thought 'twas all in fun

When he tore off the head of the weasel

A penny for a mule's head

A penny for a weasel's

That's the way the economy is

Goddamn regular gas is so high right now

Might as well be using diesel

Up and down the Shitty Road I go

I'm pumping in and out of the weasel

Couldn't find a ho to give me a blow

Now Pop! goes the weasel

Higglety Pigglety

Higglety, pigglety, my friend Gwen

This bitch spreads her slop hole for all the goddamn men

Gentlemen come every day

To see how many my friend Gwen doth lay

Sometimes nine, and sometimes ten

Higglety, pigglety, my friend Gwen

Whore!

Come To The Window

Come to the window

My baby, with me

And look at the stars

That shine on the sea!

Break out the bong

We'll sing a song

I'll bend you over

And ram in my schlong

I see two little fish

Far down in the deep

I see lots of things now

This is

good creep weed

Cry "Neap, neap, neap

"

Have no fucking reason why

Latch your hands onto that window sill

As I cream your sweet cherry pie

Diddle Diddle Dumpling

Diddle, diddle, dumpling

My retarded son, John

Went to bed

With his trousers on

So I went into his room

Dent his head in with a broom

Diddle, diddle dumpling

John's now in a tomb

Fee Fie Foe Fum

Fee Fie Foe Fuck

I smell the odor of an English schmuck

Be he 'live, or be he dead,

I'll grind his cojones and run him over with my truck

I Love Little Pussy

I love a little pussy

Especially when it's wet

And if I don't hurt her

She won't be a threat

So I'll not pull on her clit

Nor make her take any abusive shit

And that little pussy of hers

Very gently, I will hit

Georgie Porgie

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie

Kissed the boys and made the peter puffers cry

When the boys came out of the closet

All happy and gay

Georgie Porgie attacked them from behind

Put a bag over their heads

And had all of them filleted

With his goddamn butcher knife

Damn sick fuck, that Georgie

John Jingle Jingleheimer Shits

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt

His name is my name, too!

Whenever we go out

The people always shout

"You fuckers have the same name, goddamnit!"

Jack Be Nimble

Jack,

be nimble

Jack, be quick

Jack tried jumping naked over a huge bonfire

And burnt his goddamn prick

Then Jack jumped high

Then Jack jumped low

Then Jack fell into the fire

Received third degree burns

Losing all of his toes

And his prick

What a dumbass!

On Top of Spaghetti

On

top of my woody

I have a disease

I lost my poor meatballs

Due to aids and herpes

That fucking slut Gwen

She's the Queen of all Sleaze

Because of her rancid coochie

I now pee through a tube

I wish I could stab her

It might make me feel good

Hokey Pokey

You put your right foot in

You put your right leg out

You hook your right fist in

And you punch him in the face

You do the Hokey-Pokey

And you slit his goddamn throat

That's what it's all about!

You put your left foot in

You put your left foot out

You put your left foot in

And you turn yourself around,

Quickly firing off your bazooka

Decimating all of your enemies

Because

That's what it's all about!