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Your Xmas Parodies

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Dirty/rude verses or parodies of tune (42)
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GUEST,Wrinkles 13 Feb 05 - 06:53 AM
Phil Cooper 13 Feb 05 - 11:43 AM
just john 13 Feb 05 - 02:31 PM
George Seto - af221@chebucto.ns.ca 13 Feb 05 - 04:48 PM
George Seto - af221@chebucto.ns.ca 13 Feb 05 - 04:53 PM
The Fooles Troupe 14 Feb 05 - 06:10 AM
Genie 15 Feb 05 - 03:55 AM
kendall 15 Feb 05 - 05:11 PM
GUEST,Effie xx 09 Dec 13 - 04:57 PM
GUEST,Eliza 09 Dec 13 - 05:32 PM
Tradsinger 09 Dec 13 - 05:39 PM
GUEST,Beatlesfan#1 10 Dec 13 - 05:26 PM
GUEST,c.g. 10 Dec 13 - 05:39 PM
Joe_F 10 Dec 13 - 08:41 PM
GUEST 11 Dec 13 - 07:37 AM
Tattie Bogle 11 Dec 13 - 12:40 PM
Nigel Parsons 12 Dec 13 - 04:09 AM
GRex 12 Dec 13 - 04:57 AM
GUEST 12 Dec 13 - 11:12 AM
GUEST,.gargoyle 12 Dec 13 - 08:52 PM
GUEST,.gargoyle 12 Dec 13 - 09:05 PM
Nigel Parsons 13 Dec 13 - 10:49 AM
GUEST,alien 19 Dec 13 - 09:37 AM
GUEST,Eliza 19 Dec 13 - 10:30 AM
PHJim 19 Dec 13 - 10:35 AM
GUEST,David Harley 25 Dec 13 - 04:41 AM
davidharley 07 Jan 14 - 06:08 PM
GUEST,Montreal88 23 Nov 15 - 01:17 PM
Stilly River Sage 23 Nov 15 - 02:46 PM
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Subject: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: GUEST,Wrinkles
Date: 13 Feb 05 - 06:53 AM

Ok, Xmas carols have always been fair game for parodies, and some seem to have been around forever (such as "While sheperds washed their socks by night"), but what about the parodies Mudcatters have composed and done for friends and their own performances?

Come on, It's time these gems were shared, and got into circulation on the folk process merry-go-round.

Post them here, and let's all have a chuckle ;-)

Here's two I prepared before the show ;-)

[to the tune of God Rest Ye merry Gentlemen]
SOD OFF YE ROWDY GENTLEMEN
(an anti carol singers ditty)

Sod off ye rowdy gentlemen, your carols are a pain.
How dare ye wake me from my rest in hope of fiscal gain.
Your tenor's flat, you sing off key,
now GO! Do not remain,
or face Good Hidings, discomfort, and Pain.
(Discomfort and Pain)
Face Good Hidings, Discomfort, and Pain.


[To the tune of Deck The Halls]
CHECK THE MALLS
(This one always got a laugh in Northern Ireland)

Check the Malls for Bombs in trolleys,
Tra la la la la, lala, la la.
Tis the season to be wary
Tra la la la la, lala, la la.
Don we now our kevlar armour
Tra la la la la, Tra la la la la, lala, la.
Send in the robot to disarm 'er
Tra la la la la, lala, la la.


OK,
Your turn ;-)

Wrinkles


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: Phil Cooper
Date: 13 Feb 05 - 11:43 AM

From Marty Pfieffer (I think I've misspelled his last name).

Check the balls on that big collie (fa la, etc).
He gets big when he gets jolly (fa la) that's the end of it.


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: just john
Date: 13 Feb 05 - 02:31 PM

The first Noel
The second Noel
The third Noel (etc.)

It's no "Deck us all with Boston Charley," but it'll do in a pinch.


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: George Seto - af221@chebucto.ns.ca
Date: 13 Feb 05 - 04:48 PM

Rather than convert them and post them here, I've put the whole booklet up at vince_twistmas_2003.doc. It's a small booklet with a bunch of Christmas Parodies, many I got here at the Mudcat. It's in Word Document format, set up to be printed double-sided, then stapled and folded. Enjoy!


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: George Seto - af221@chebucto.ns.ca
Date: 13 Feb 05 - 04:53 PM

ACtually, I just remembered, I use Ottawa font for most things, so I've put it up as a PDF file instead, so it'll print properly.

vince_twistmas_2003.pdf

Enjoy!


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: The Fooles Troupe
Date: 14 Feb 05 - 06:10 AM

A Charisma Scare Roll

Go dressed team marriage end dull meant
Lit north ink cutest May
Forge eases cry star say fiord
West boor non crisp mistake,
Two safe assault form say tons spar
Win whee wore gonifs tray;
Owe, tide ink's off come fort enjoy, come fort enjoy,
Owe tye eye dink's off come fort enjoy.


An Udder Charisma Scare Roll

Oak gum ball if facefull, choy fall ant dry infant;
Gum ball ease it is sins off heavy nabob.
Gum band a door imp, barn off kinky faint shells.
Oak omelet acid Durham, oak omelet acid Durham,
Oak gum lettuce at Durhammm, cry, I still hoard.


And a harp pine weir two ewe.

Robin


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: Genie
Date: 15 Feb 05 - 03:55 AM

Here's a link to another thread on the same topic:
Christmas parodies

One of the parodies there is "Fleece Mom & Dad," a parody of Feliz Navidad, which I wrote for promo for the Alternative Gifts Market a few years ago. There are several others in that thread. LOL


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies.....
From: kendall
Date: 15 Feb 05 - 05:11 PM

Good King what's his name looked out on his feets uneven...

Rudolph the red nosed reindeer had a very shiney nose
He has a drinking problem, now he's wearing panty hose (Eric Bogle)

Ho ho fucking ho
What a crock of shit
We all work for Santa Claus
We've had enough we quit
We do all the fucking work while he stars in the show
Stick your Christmas up yer arse
Ho ho fucking ho. (Monty Python)


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,Effie xx
Date: 09 Dec 13 - 04:57 PM

First we three kings parody:
We three kings of Leicester square
Selling ladies underwear
So fantastic, no elastic
Only £2 a pair

O pants for children pants for mum
Pants for doing a hard math sum
Downward leading their still proceeding
Guide us to thy perfect bum

Second one:

We four Beatles of Liverpool are,
Paul by taxi john by car
Charlie by scooter blowing his hooter
Following ringo star


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,Eliza
Date: 09 Dec 13 - 05:32 PM

Jingle bells, Rudolf smells,
All the elves are gay.
Santa Claus
Ripped his drawers,
Then he ran away.
(taught to me by my 6 yr old Glasgow pupils)


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: Tradsinger
Date: 09 Dec 13 - 05:39 PM

Based on "The Lore and Language of Shoolchildren"

While Shepherds washed their socks by night
All seated round the tub
A bar of sunlight soap came down
And they began to scrub.

While shepherds watched their turnip tops
All boiling in the pot
A lump of soot came tumbling down
And spoiled the blooming lot.

While shepherds washed their socks by night
While watching Sky TV
The angel of the Lord came down
And switched to BBC

No ale, no beer
No stout, sold out
Born is the king with his shirt hanging out.

We three kings of Orient are
One in a taxi, one in a car
One on a scooter, blowing his hooter
Smoking a big cigar.

Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
A snowball hit him on the snout
Which made it quite uneven
Brightly shone his conk that night
Though the pain was cruel
When the doctor came in sight
Riding on a mule.

Hark, the jelly babies sing
Beacham's pills are just the thing
They are gentle, meek and mild
Two for a man and one for a child
If you want to go to heaven
You must take a dose of seven
If you want to go to hell
Take the blooming box as well
Hark, the jelly babies sing
Beacham's pills are just the thing.

Enjoy

Tradsinger


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,Beatlesfan#1
Date: 10 Dec 13 - 05:26 PM

Guest,Effie xx - it's "GEORGE by scooter.... (Charlie, like Poppa, was/is a Rolling Stone)...following Ringo STARR"


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,c.g.
Date: 10 Dec 13 - 05:39 PM

Effie - the version I learnt in the early 50's was started out:
'We three spivs of Mersey Square.' Spivs dates it to the war years and Mersey Square is in Stockport - local reference, as we'd probably never heard of Leicester Square. The rest was (more or less. I haven't heard it since 1958) 'selling nylons tuppence a pair, they're fantastic, they're elastic, guaranteed not to wear'


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: Joe_F
Date: 10 Dec 13 - 08:41 PM

These are of some antiquity:

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
O piss on thee, O Christmas tree!

*

While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
All shitting on the ground,
An angel of the Lord came down
And handed paper round.

*

Hark! The herald angels sing:
Beecham's pills are just the thing,
Move you gently, meek and mild,
Two for adults and one for child.
Regular administration,
Just the thing for constipation.
How can man to art aspire
If his soul is not on fire?
How can man crawl into bed
With his belly full of lead?


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST
Date: 11 Dec 13 - 07:37 AM

Hot off the press; not yet done in public, but ready for this year!

THE WILD CHRISTMAS THYME        Lyrics: © Trish Santer 11.12.13.
                                Tune: Wild Mountain Thyme

Nearly Christmas time again
All the chasing lights are twinkling
And the wild carol singers
Their collecting cans are clinking,
Will ye go, choirs, go,
And we'll sing "White Christmas" together,
Might not sound like Herald Angels
All around the wintry weather,
Will ye go, choirs, go.

I will buy my love a gift,
At Amazon, Argos or Curry's,
And I hope he won't be too miffed
That I bought it in a hurry,
Will ye go online, go,
And we'll all surf together
And go into credit card meltdown
When I buy some kinky leather,
Will ye go online, go.

I will range the downtown stores
And the shopping malls so dreary,
And return with my spoils
And my feet all sore and weary,
Will ye go, shoppers, go.
Buy your turkey, sprouts and stuffing,
Sage and onion, or parsley and thyme,
Weighed down with bags you'll be puffing,
Will ye go, shoppers, go.

When the family all come round,
And the beer and wine are flowing,
But o'er Trivial Pursuit answers
They will surely soon be rowing,
Will ye go, drunkards, go,
And we'll all argue together,
Until he who is always right
Has been proved to be wrong for ever,
Will ye go, drunkards, go.

And we'll have a good Christmas together,
And we'll promise to be back next year,
As our ties will never sever,
Now will ye go home, people, go.    (Slow down, wearily!)


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: Tattie Bogle
Date: 11 Dec 13 - 12:40 PM

That was me! Logged out it seems, and didn't realise until after I'd posted it.


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Subject: Lyr Add: Fred's Mite
From: Nigel Parsons
Date: 12 Dec 13 - 04:09 AM

I thought I'd posted this last year, but a thorough search doesn't find it, so I'll try again:
Based (very loosely) on the biblical story of "the widow's mite":

FRED'S MITE
Nigel Parsons 2012
(Tune "Silver Bells" Jay Livingston & Ray Evans)

At the fireplace, Fred is sitting, quietly nursing his beer,
Feeling glad for the warmth and the light.
At the bar are 'City Bankers' freely sharing good cheer,
While poor Fred makes two pints last all night.

   Chorus
   Silver bells, Silver bells.
   It's Christmas time in the city.
   Ting-a-ling, hear them ring.
   Soon it will be Christmas Day.

In the pub now, come the matrons, of the 'War Cry' brigade
Singing car'ls to the sound of their tambourines.
Seek donations, from the patrons, drink a swift lemonade.
Then dispensing God's blessings, and magazines.

Cho:

And they tell all, of the homeless, and the suff'ring about.
And Fred gives them the last of his change.
As they exit, Fred then rises, and he follows them out.
Leaving after one pint seems so strange.

Cho:


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GRex
Date: 12 Dec 13 - 04:57 AM

My favourite is:-

    Jingle tills, jingle tills
    Jingle all the day
    Oh what jolly fun it is
    Watching silly buggers pay


    GRex


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST
Date: 12 Dec 13 - 11:12 AM

Christmas Day in the Workhouse has been parodied how many times?
http://freespace.virgin.net/david.brunton/workhouse.html


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,.gargoyle
Date: 12 Dec 13 - 08:52 PM

Had to say how many times the "old chestnut" has been posted::
Newsletter Haberdashery Songs Links

rsslink
Home
FAQ & Member Info
Calendar / Directions
Officers
Pay Your Dues!

Songs

Songs

Songs in the Key of Pittsburgh

Ain't Masturbatin'
Are Yinz From Pittsburgh
Autohash
Dahn-Dahn
Debauchery Tonight
Dope Ray Me
Hashin'
Ice The Bitch
Interhash 1999 Welcum
I've Only Half a Brain
Moondance
My boyfirend…
Oh You Wankers
S&M Man verses
Santa Clause is Cumming On You
Shiggy-Traction
Skippy the Squirrel
Swilligans Island
The Hash House Harriers
The Pittstones
Thunderchicken
Walking 'round In Women's Underwear
Other Song Books:

A general, Pittsburgh-influenced song book
Whiff's Compilation of Pittsburgh Songs
Ain't Masturbatin'
by Whiff

Don't buff the bishop,
Don't wax my bean,
Don't choke the chicken,
I think you know what I mean.

Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

Don't stroke my bony
one-eyed baloney,
My Mannon yogurt is
For your consumption only.

Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

I'm forsakin' shakin' bacon.
Trouser snakin' just ain't my style.
My jiz is the fizz in your Sperm-o-dent smile.
Ooo – go easy.

I don't like workin'
Gland in glove.
No jerkin' gherkins -
It's your lips I'm thinkin' of.
Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

Don't fling the phallus,
Won't flog the frog.
No squeezin' mustard
From my Oscar Meyer dog.
Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

Ain't whippin' up no
warm Baby Gravy,
Don't got a discharge
from the white-knuckle navy.
Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

I skip the hand jive,
Don't give low-fives,
Lube the tube or make the bread rise.
My crotch chowder's seasoned 'specially for you.
Mmm – believe me.

Won't milk the lizard,

Don't baste my ham.
Let Mr. Wizard in
To soak your tonsils, ma'am.
Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my spunk for -
Ain't masturbatin',

Savin' all my jiz for -
Ain't masturbatin',
Savin' all my load for you.

Are Yinz From Pittsburgh
Are yinz from Pittsburgh?
I said from Pittsburgh
Where the emphysema rate is so high
Where streets are narrow
Like Mia Farrow
And flocks of pigeons shit in your eye

Are yinz from Baldwin or Monroeville or from Aspinwall?
Or do you come from South Side with your bowling ball?
Are yinz from Pittsburgh?
I said from Pittsburgh.
'Cause we're from Pittsburgh too.

We know our city

Is not so pretty
But so what if we've nothing unique
There's still Apollo
And Panther Hollow
And floods each year along Chartiers Creek.
When you die they put your name upon the voting list

And hashing is just fine if you're a masochist.
Are yinz from Pittsburgh?
I said from Pittsburgh.
'Cause we're from Pittsburgh too.

The Autohash Down-Down
by Whiff

The Beatles – Drive My Car

Baby, you can drive my car,
We're not going very far-
Only to the next bar.

So baby, it's down down…
Down-down, down-down, yeah!
Down-down, down-down, yeah!

Dahn Dahn
by Whiff and Moon

Petula Clark – Downtown

When you don't care
If there's beer in your hair,
You know that you've done–
a Down Down!

So much fun that
You keep on wearing your hat,
And do another one–
Down down!

It may be Miller Lite,
Honey Brown or Yuengling Porter.

Just don't take all night
'Cause our attention spans get shorter…
After a few.

So wait till we
Give you the sign,
'Cause you can't raise your glass

'Til we finish our rhyme…
And then–

Down Down!
Here in the circle where–
Down Down!
you can't come up for air.

Down Down!
If you do, you must wear your
Down down…down down….down down…

DEBAUCHERY TONIGHT
by Whiff

Melody: Comedy Tonight

Something for lunkheads,
Something for drunk heads,
Something for everyone –
Debauchery tonight!

Something that's kinky,
Something that's stinky,
Something for everyone –
Debauchery tonight!

Nothing for pimps,
Nothing for prudes.

Bring on the lushes,
Flashers and nudes!

Inebriation
And fornication,
This time we'll maybe get it right…
Sobriety tomorrow, debauchery tonight!

Plenty of hooters
And naval shooters.
Something for everyone –
Debauchery tonight!

Pussies and peckers
In triple deckers,

Something for everyone
Debauchery tonight!

Oceans of beer
Nothing too light.
This bacchinalia's
Rocking all night!

Some masturbation
And copulation,
An -ation for everybody's taste…

Chooches and wankers,
Nymphos with chancres,
Sex kits and goodies,

Fat boys with woodies!
Philanderers!
Manhandlers!,
Inebriants
And deviants!
Mistakes,

Fakes,
Mugs,
Chugs,
Nuzzlers,
Muzzlers,
Puzzlers,

Guzzlers!

Outrageous sex,
Beer by the quarts.
And there's a midnight
Nude run, of course!

What is the moral?

Something immoral –
Skippy the squirrel
Rules the night!

Sobriety tomorrow,
Debauchery,
Debauchery,

Debauchery,
Debauchery,
Debauchery…
Tonight!!!

Dope Ray Me
by Whiff

Melody: Do Re Mi, from The Sound of Music

Dope, some dope,
Some Mexican dope.
Re, the guy who sells me dope.

Mi, someone, who needs some dope.
Fa, a long long way from dope.
So, I think I'll smoke some dope.
La, la la la la la laaa.
Ti, Ray told me this was dope!
Which brings us back to dope, dope, dope…

HASHIN'
(To the Grateful Dead's "Truckin")
by Whiff

Hashin' – along the Conamaugh

Scratched up – till my legs are raw
Was that – a beer I just saw?
And is there any more . . . for me?

What in the world ever became of Big Beef?
You know, he hasn't hashed in a year and a half.

I heard some Eerie germ's been giving him big grief.
I guess that's why they named him "Chief of Staph".

Hashin' – over field and street,
Bimbos – suck their toes and feet

Fat boys – like to beat their meat
And everybody's beggin' for . . . more beer.

Ice The Bitch
Melody: Do Re Mi, from The Sound of Music

Ice the bitch, that G.M. bitch.
Numb, the price you have to pay
Sit, right there and down that beer
Yes, you pissed off the R.A.

Damn, your ass is getting red
And, your lips are turning blue

Place, that mug above your head
And prove you downed that brew.

The Americas Interhash '99 Welcum Song
(like the Beauty and the Beast show-stopper, by Whiff and
Moon)

Be our guests, you'll be blessed
With all the beer you can ingest.
While you're chugging, we'll keep lugging
Extra kegs for you to test.

On the runs when those buns
Clad in spandex make you cum,

The confection your erection
Spurts will make the bimbos hum.

Suck a teat or some meat,
Find your G-spot – ooo, how sweet!
Shoot some jism, Hedonism
Is the motto-of-the-week.

Let your juices splash
This year at Interhash!
And be our guests!
Be our guests!
Be our guests!

Be our guests – bare your breasts!

Everybody get undressed!
When you're naked, you can't fake it -
you leave nothing to be guessed.

Grab a beer. Have no fear
If you take it up the rear.
'Cause your rectums, we'll inspect 'em,

Making sure the way is clear.

Grab your crotch, be debauched.
We don't care – we like to watch!
Your libido is our credo,
Let us crrank it up a notch!

Let your juices splash!

Come to the Interhash
And be our guests!
Be our guests!
Be our guests!

I'VE ONLY HALF A BRAIN
Melody:If I Only Had a Brain (From the Wizard of Oz)
By Whiff; officially premiered at the Eerie (PA) H3 1st Anniversary Hash in July 1994

I could wile away the hours,
Searchin' hills for flour,

Across a wide terrain. (repeat)

I'd be chipper, and I'd be cheerful,
If my stomach had a beerful,
'Cause I've only half a brain. (repeat)

With my arms and legs akimbo,
I'll be chasing after bimbos,

Through mud, thorns, and rain. (repeat)

I'll be making lots of passes,
As I fondle all their asses,
'Cause I've only half a brain. (repeat)

Chorus: I'll do down-downs till the keg begins to spit,
Then I'll fire one up and take a little hit,

I'll impress the women with my charming wit,
As I shout out, "Show us your tits!"

Then my beer I will be sharing,
With them as their breast they're baring,
Our urges unrestrained. (repeat)

Oh, our language will be rude as,

We exchange bod-i-ly fluids,
'Cause we've only half a brain.

MOONDANCE
(Yes,that Moondance! )

by Whiff

Well, it's a marvelous night for a mooning
With the beer flowing out of your glass.
A fantabulous night for a moon, yeah,
INTERHASH sure is crawling with ass.

…Where all the beavers on the bimbos are calling
To the hundreds of boners that grow.
'Cause all the beavers and the boners like balling,
And the buns on the runs really show.

And the ni-i-ight's magic
Seems to quiver your bush,

And all the so-o-oft moonlight
Really shines (dah-dah-dah!)
On your tush! (dah-dah-dah!)

Can I just see your moon tonight,
Your sweet, precious butt?
Can I just have one more moon shot

From you, you slut?!

MY BOYFRIEND
(to tune of Oscar Meyer weiner, not sur eof author, but Stick it in my Socket taught me)

My boyfriend has a first name, it's P-E-T-E-R,

My boyfiend has a second name, its P-E-N-I-S,

I fuck my boyfriend everyday, and if you ask me why I'll say….

Cause Peter's Penis has a way, with my V-A-G-I-N-A

Oh You Wankers
(to tune of Oh Suzannah, by Bwana)

Well, we bushwhacked up from Pittsburgh,
'Cause we heard there's halfminds here.
And we won't get on the Interstate
Until we've kicked the beer.

We drank all night the day we left,
The brewskies made us high.
Now we're hashin' here in Eerie
And we're gonna suck you dry.

Oh, you wankers! Go fetch another beer,
'Cause we hashed up here from Pittsburgh

And we gotta have more beer.

(Men's Chorus)
I had a dream the other night–
The room began to spin.
I dreamed a horny bimbo came
And sat upon my chin.

Her buckwheat cake was in my face,
Her juice was in my eye.
I said, "I won't cum in your mouth."
I always fuckin' lie!

Oh, you wankers! Go fetch another beer,
'Cause we hashed up here from Pittsburgh

And we gotta have more beer.

S&M MAN verses
Who can take some dentures,
Sharpened with a file,

And bite your genitalia with a sabertooth smile?
The S &MMan…

(Chorus)

S &Mstrikes everyone he likes
With a blend of love and malice.

So don't you ever call him callous
As he hammers on your phallus.

Who can take a plunger,
Pack it full of shit
And clamp it on your mouth until he makes you vomit?
The S &MMan…

(Chorus)

S &Msquirts you every time he hurts you
With a half a quart of jism.
Overflowing with sadism,
He just needs your masochism.

SANTA CLAUSE IS CUMMING ON YOU
Melody:Santa Clause is Coming to Town
by Whiff

Oh, you better beware –
It could be your turn.

You better prepare
To be showered with sperm.

Santa Claus is cumming — on you!

He's got a trenchcoat,
'Cause he's wearing no pants.

He'll bugger you good
If you give him a chance.

Santa Claus is cumming — on you!

He'll sieze you when you're sleeping,
He'll fuck you wide awake.

He'll leave you wet and dripping,
So lock your door, for goodness sakes!

He's got a big fist
And jerking it twice.
He'll pop a big load —
That's his favorite vice.

Santa Claus is cumming — on you!

SKIPPY THE SQUIRREL
Melody: Frosty the Snowman
By Satan and Bwana; "Skippy" is based upon true events of Pittsburgh's 550th
Anniversary at the Lithuanian Club.

Skippy the Squirrel is a jolly happy soul,
With his smashed out brains and his broken nose,
And some gravel up his hole.

Skippy the Squirrel is a hasher's tale they say,
He was just too slow and the hashers know,
He was squished to death one day.

There must have been some magic,
In that old dead squirrel they found,
For when they tied him to the bus he began to fly around.

Oh, Skippy the Squirrel is as dead as he can be,
But the hashers say he can hash and play,
Just the same as you and me.

(happy whistle interlude)

Skippy the Squirrel knew the sun was hot that day,
So he said, "Lets run,
And we'll have some fun, before I rot away."

Down to the Apres, with a rope tied to his tail,
Flying here and there, all around the square,

Saying , "You'll go straight to hell."

He led them down the trail that day,
Right to a parking lot,
Where Monster Bator licked a girl,
Whose father called a cop.

Monster and Skippy had to hurry out of there,

But they waved good-bye,
Sayin ', "Don't you cry, we'll be back again next year."

Thumpety thump thump, thumpety thump thump,
Hear those squirrelies die,
Thumpety thump thump, thumpety thump thump,
Look at Skippy fly!

(I Can't Get No) Shiggy Traction
(Stones' tune, by Whiff)

I can't get no – shiggy traction
I can't get no – Nike action

'Cause I tried,
But I slide.
I just slide,
So I cried -

I can't get no -
Shiggy traction!

I was hashing just last week
When the "On-On" came from over the hill.
But I kept splashing in some creek
'Cause the bank was churned into muddy swill.

I was slippin' on the stones,

'Cause there was slimy algae everywhere.
I was lost and hashing alone,
Which is nothing new, but – I was the hare!

I can't get no -
I can't get no -
"Are you?" reaction…

No shiggy traction…

SWILLIGAN'S ISLAND
Melody:Gilligan's Island theme

By Whiff

Just sip yer brew and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a drunken hash.
That started with a keg of beer,
And everyone got trashed. (Repeat)

The first hare was a brainless cooch,

His co-hare was half as smart.
Two hundred some odd half-minds,
Took off in a cloud of farts. (Repeat)

The hills got steep, the shiggy deep,
The back checks had them fooled.
Then someone found the beer stop,

And everybody drooled. (Repeat)

The mud had sucked their sneakers off,
Their legs were ripped a lot.
But once they had their nectar,
The trail they soon forgot. (Repeat)

The moral is no matter how,

Much shiggy's on your trail,
A hashin' twit don't give a shit,
While he's swilling his ale.

THE HASH HOUSE HARRIERS
Melody: The Addams Family
by Whiff

Their drinking is compulsive,
Their running is convulsive,
They're morally repulsive-
The Hash House Harriers!

Their flatulance is rude an'
Their genitals protrude when
They're running in the nude in
The Hash House Harriers!

They're always shiggy-tracking
From constantly bushwhacking.

Intelligence they're lacking.
The Hash House Harriers!

Duh-duh-duh-duh-down-down
Duh-duh-duh-duh-down-down
Duh-duh-duh-duh
Duh-duh-duh-duh

Duh-duh-duh-duh-down-down!

THE PITTSTONES
Written by our own WHIFF, really!

Melody: The Flintstones (Duh!)

Hashers, Meet the Hashers,
We're the biggest drunks in history.

From the, town of Tittsburgh,
We're the leaders in debauchery.

Halfminds, trailing shiggy through the years.
Watch them as they down a lot of beer…

Down down
Down down down down,
Down down down down down down down down,
Down down down down down
Down down down down down doooown!

The ThunderChicken Song
(by Whiff)

When you're hashin' through the shiggy,
And you're gruntin' like a piggy,
'Cause your pussy's beggin' for a lickin' –

There is something you should know,
When there is no one else to ho' you,
Caaaall for Thunderchicken!

And if you think that
You can do it better,
He'll tell you go ahead and

Write the next newsletter.

He will drink another beer
Until he cumes upon your rear.
And he will leave your buttocks wet and stickin'.

There is one thing you should learn,
When there is no one else to sperm you,

Caaall for Thunderchicken!

Walking 'round In Women's Underwear
(Tune: Walking In a Winter Wonderland)

Lacy things the wife is missin'

Didn't ask for her premission
I'm wearin' her clothes, silk pantyhose
Walkin' round in woman's underwear

In the store there's a teddy
With little straps like spagetti
It hold me in tight, like handcuffs at night

Walkin' round in woman's underwear

In the office there's a guy named Melvin
He pretends that I am Murphy Brown
He'll sayare you ready, I'll say whoa man
Let's wait until the wife is out of town

Later on if you wanna

We can dress like Madonna
Put on some eyeshade and join the parade
Walkin' round in woman's underwear
Walkin' round in woman's underwear
Walkin' round in woman's underwear.

Sincerely,
Gargoyle

(A traditional HASH /RUGBY song


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,.gargoyle
Date: 12 Dec 13 - 09:05 PM

CLONES - please clean up the previous vomit (extra wool be added to your stockings)


Clean material
............................
Walking 'round In Women's Underwear
(Tune: Walking In a Winter Wonderland)

Lacy things the wife is missin'

Didn't ask for her premission
I'm wearin' her clothes, silk pantyhose
Walkin' round in woman's underwear

In the store there's a teddy
With little straps like spagetti
It hold me in tight, like handcuffs at night

Walkin' round in woman's underwear

In the office there's a guy named Melvin
He pretends that I am Murphy Brown
He'll sayare you ready, I'll say whoa man
Let's wait until the wife is out of town

Later on if you wanna

We can dress like Madonna
Put on some eyeshade and join the parade
Walkin' round in woman's underwear
Walkin' round in woman's underwear
Walkin' round in woman's underwear

Sincerely,
Gargoyle




via the Rugby/Hasher Song bookz


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: Nigel Parsons
Date: 13 Dec 13 - 10:49 AM

With a relative working for Tree Amigos we bought this year's tree from him.
I took pity on him standing in the cold all day (but rather him than me!) and wrote this little ditty:

TREE AMIGOS
ttto: Tannenbaum / Christmas tree / Maryland / The Red Flag

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree,
I'm sure you'll be the death of me.
Twelve hours a day I'm on the go,
In sunshine (rarely) Rain and Snow.
A Tree Amigos 'Happy' elf
I do the bleedin' work myself.
Each massive tree I have to hump,
Shove through the netter, trim the stump.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree,
There's one for ev'ry family.
Tra-dit-ion-al-ists may prefer
A tall (but thin) Norwegian Fir
But if you don't want needles loose,
I'd recommend the Nordman Spruce (spoken O.k. it's a little more expensive, but the quality is worth it!)
A five-foot Nordman in your Ka?
Okay, if you're not going far.

This Christmas job would be a breeze.
If it were not for all the trees.
At 4 a.m. I'm on the road,
Just to collect another load.
And I've just sold another tree.
Smile at the client, take the fee.
A Nine-foot in a mini van?
But, Can we fit it? – Yes we can! (Apologies to Bob the builder)




And now some quotes from our sponsors:

It is a fir fir better thing I do than I have ever done:
Charles Dickens, A tale of two cities

If at firs you don't succeed, try try again
Robert the Spruce


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,alien
Date: 19 Dec 13 - 09:37 AM

Santa Clause, Santa Clause
Santa Clause is dead, Rudolph took a 44 and shot him in the head, oh
Barbie doll, Barbie doll tried to save his life but "G""I"- Joe FROM MEXICO stabbed her with a knife


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,Eliza
Date: 19 Dec 13 - 10:30 AM

Fir and few, fir and few are the lands where the jumblies live...


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: PHJim
Date: 19 Dec 13 - 10:35 AM

From the Prairie Home Companion Songbook:

I'm screaming at a white sheepdog,
One who is sitting in my chair.
It's a thing I'm dreading,
The way he's shedding,
And covering everything with hair.
I'm screaming at a white sheepdog
And should he visit you some night,
May his bark be worse than his blight
And may all your furniture be white.


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,David Harley
Date: 25 Dec 13 - 04:41 AM

[Sometimes I just have too much time on my hands.]

I'm snoring in my chair
I think I've had too much to eat
And even if I tried
I couldn't leave my seat.

I'm getting very tight:
I didn't need those last two beers
And now that last mince pie
Has dribbled down my tie.

Somebody offered me another cup of tea
Turkey sandwich, more plum pudding, woe is me…

I'm sprawling on the stairs
I haven't got the strength to rise
And dear old Auntie Jill
Is in the bathroom still.

I've turned off the TV
The Queen's speech was keeping me awake
And one more Singing Nun
Is more than I can take

Uncle Dick is feeling sick, he's running for the loo
Heaving like a mighty monster from the zoo

I'm surfing in my lair
Looking for some online deals
To spend next Christmas Day
On a cruise ship far away…


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: davidharley
Date: 07 Jan 14 - 06:08 PM

The background to that parody of the snowman (and even a demo MP3) is here: Walking in the Air parody.


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: GUEST,Montreal88
Date: 23 Nov 15 - 01:17 PM

One of my favorites:

'Twas The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the
annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence,
kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this
potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus
musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the
wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through
their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head
coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness
when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended
such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity
from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source
thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing
this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance
without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian
itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to
behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight
diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule,
aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his
ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more
vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated
loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and
addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now
Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior
level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the
concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a
180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost
celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage. He
was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from
oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls
thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious
cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary
dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The
capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with
blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the
coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium,
or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so
much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment
appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive
of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was
high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region
undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical
container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund,
multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly
frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly
lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to
one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task,
he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in
lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium
forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his
egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then
propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a
musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the
antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a
movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions
of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible
immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of
visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to
that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously
beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and
dawn."


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Subject: RE: Your Xmas Parodies
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 23 Nov 15 - 02:46 PM

Those of us who grew up in the Puget Sound area had the pleasure of hearing the music of local television performer Stan Boreson. Yust Go Nuts at Christmas is a collection of original songs and parodies.


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