Surely dido was thinking of the celebrated jumping frog of Calaveras County, as e.g. at http://members.cox.net/deleyd/religion/solarmyth/frog.html?
To Lila's selection I add: #9 Raqre'f Tnzr. And also, regarding the same one (let the reader understand!) the number 241.
I bow before your superior knowledge. Or your superior willingness to bother asking Google, of course. :-)
Show-off! But I wonder how many *other* lines you can remember from it. (I think the lines I can remember are precisely the first one -- same as in CLD's parody -- and the last two, which you quoted. I have a hazy recollection of a few bits in the middle, but when I try to remember specific words the "interference" from the parody is too strong.)
Hardly necessary to say, but Glenn's latest is a takeoff of Dodgson's[1] "You are old, Father William", which in turn is a takeoff of Southey's "The old man's comforts, and how he gained them". (You can tell it's the former rather than the latter because it has 8 verses rather than 6. And also because everyone knows the former and no one knows the latter.)
[1] Oh, all right. Carroll's.
Hmm. After having the Tyger, I suppose we'd better also have ...
Little spam, who made thee?
No one knows who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee breed
In countless spambots without heed;
Bearing promise of delight
(Take this pill and **** all night!);
Promising new mortgage choice,
Webcams, or a new Rolls-Royce.
Little spam, who made thee?
No one knows who made thee.
Little spam, I'll tell thee,
Little spam, I'll tell thee:
He is called by no name,
Hides away to send his spam.
He is meek and loves to hide,
Lest the Feds put him inside.
I am getting so much spam,
All I say is: damn, damn, damn.
Little spam, God damn thee!
Little spam, God damn thee!
Not very good; perhaps someone else can do better.
TexAnne: Actually, I beat you to it :-).
Mopping up a few currently unidentified, latest first:
Maggie, 3.43: A A Milne, Disobedience.
Jonathan Edelstein, 12.48: Shelley, Ozymandias, again :-).
candle, 11.33: e e cummings, next to of course god i.
Oh, and no one's mentioned yet that Dave Luckett's little masterpiece beginning "Mari spammed me where I sat" and ending "No-one scammed me" is from Leigh Hunt's "Jenny kissed me". So I shall.
I was going to go to bed (3am local time). But I'm addicted.
I read an e-mail from an Afric land,
Which said: My vast unlaundered cash reserves
Languish sequestered. Now, please understand,
If you can help me get them out I'll halve
The proceeds with you. Please give me a hand:
Send me your passport, banking details, all
Those trifling matters needful to arrange
My money's transfer, your lovely cash windfall.
I do implore you, help me get this done,
For love of Jesus Christ, the King of Kings --
I swear by God Almighty, God the Son,
No further work remains. All you need do
Is send a little cash. Then, won't it be fun?
Half my ill-gotten gains will go to you.
Hmm, didn't work as well as I'd hoped from the first line. Definitely time for sleep.
A couple of tweaks to mine (too hastily written) beginning "Abacha the Nigerian":
(1) "Seeing his kingdom fall" is metrically wrong, and rhymes with "Saul" rather than half-rhyming. And it's probably wrong for those to be so close to "fell". So, scrap those lines. Instead,
"The victim trembled as the sudden truth
Entered him and took root."
which is closer to the original in several ways.
(2) The rhythm is wrong at the end. (Ugly as well as unnecessarily different from the original.) Replace the last line with
Beware of Abacha, who is just *dying* to deal with you.
though I don't like that much either.
(From a porn spammer named, let's say, Younge.)
Will you observe those men, very well hung,
Which are my men, in thongs and nothing more?
Will you observe those girls, so firm and young,
And younger still, my Teenage Asian Whores?
My trap is sprung -- I have you stung --
But wait, there's more.
Will you observe that webcam which I strung
High in the room of sweet Miss Jones next door?
Will you observe that webcam placed among
The local tarts, to watch them by the score?
My trap is sprung -- I have you stung --
But wait, there's more.
I have a lady here, who with her tongue
Can do things that the pious would deplore;
And if you pay her, she will cover you with dung,
Or piss on you, or whip you till you're sore;
But when you've paid me, you've been stung --
You'll get no more.
Abacha the Nigerian a fortnight dead,
His widow seeks out gulls, and the dupes as well,
And her profit their loss.
A current bank account
Stripped, leaves just a pittance. As the balance fell
The victim trembled, he resembled Saul
Seeing his kingdom fall.
Gentile or Jew
O you who read your mail and dream of windfalls,
Beware of Abacha, who would love gleefully to deal with you.
My bank account has nothing like those sums;
Mrs Abacha's rich, I'm less rich:
If heirs be princes, my family are bums;
If lucre's filthy, filth just makes me itch.
I have seen wealthy scoundrels distribute their gains,
But no such generosity is mine;
And from some other heiress flows perchance a rain
Of ill-got gains -- such never will be thine.
I'd love to let you share but, well, you know,
I'd rather keep my money for myself.
They say I'd make more if I let some go,
But, having got it, why give up my pelf?
And yet I think I'm doing you more good
Than all those others, "giving" what they would.
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| 2008 | 3 |
| 2005 | 10 |
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