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I Know It When I See It
By Rob Wynne
Tune: "All About That Bass" by Meghan Trainor

Because I'm all about that text,
'Bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text...

You know it's pretty clear, this film ain't subtle
You know why you're here, there can be no rebuttal
'Cause we've got that boom boom that all the folks craved
All the right smut and it is quite depraved

I see the movie scenes working that misdirect
But I do not know why
They're all so circumspect
If you like sexy sexy, get what you want
Cause every scene is about sex
And we are very nonchalant

Yeah, Aunt Hortence, she told me don't worry about the plot
Because folks only watch this for one thing and you know what
You know it won't be PG rated, family-friendly fare
But if you want the good stuff
Then go ahead and take the dare

Because I'm all about that text,
'Bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text...

It's full of nudity
But only for the social comment'ry
No, I'm just playing, I know you think it's smut
But I'm here to tell you
Every scene is full of sex and we are very nonchalant

Yes, Aunt Hortence, she told me don't worry about the plot
Because folks only watch this for one thing and you know what
You know it won't be PG rated, family-friendly fare
But if you want the good stuff
Then go ahead and take the dare

Because I'm all about that text,
'Bout that text, no subtext
Because I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
Because I'm all about that text, 'bout that text, no subtext
I'm all about that text, 'bout that text...

Inspired by a comment made by Aahz Caller, as we discussed whether "Lesbian Farm Invaders" was the sort of film one watched for the subtext, which was itself in a thread about a recent news report that Rush Limbaugh was warning that federally paid lesbian farmers might soon invade your town, becuase boy howdy this year's news has been hella weird.
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Meet The Hipsters
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: "Theme From The Flintstones"

Hipsters, meet the Hipsters
They're a modern vintage family
From the streets of Brooklyn
They go on a thrift store shopping spree

Hear their...records (vinyl is preferred)
Bands of whom you'll never once have heard

When you're with the Hipsters
You'll have a before it was cool time
A real old school time
You'll have a new old time!


For the record, I have nothing against hipsters. But someone posted this photo, and this just...came out.


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Rhymes of Fashion
by Rob Wynne and Jeff Williams
TTTO: "We Will Rock You" by Queen

Buddy you're a hard shoe, cheap shoe,
Plastic on your feet so you stomp in the puddles, yeah
You got mud on your strap, you piece of crap
But you sell because you're cheaper than an iPhone app

We will, we will CROC YOU!(Wear it, uh...)
We will, we will CROC YOU!

Buddy you're an apron, draped on,
Hang down to your knees so you don't get the stain on you
You got paint in your hair, but you don't care
Cuz you know it won't get on your clothes under there

We will, we will SMOCK YOU
We will, we will SMOCK YOU

Buddy, you're a cheap robe, wardrobe
Fitting for a priest or a monk from the Middle Age
You got rope for a belt
Never look svelte
Even when you're made from furry animal pelts

We will, we will FROCK YOU
We will, we will FROCK YOU


This is the sort of thing that happens when Jeff Williams and I get bored in chat...
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He's Right Behind You
by Rob Wynne
(TTTO: "Theme From Spider-Man (1967)")

Slender man, Slender man
Faceless dude with a snow white tan
In the woods, late at night
Suddenly, you die of fright
Look out, here comes the slender man

Is he real? Listen guy
He's a thing, but we don't know why
Shadows lurk, noises sound
Once you're lost, you can't be found
Beware, here comes the slender man

When the moon is clear
And you're losing your mind
Like a ghost of fear
He appears close behind

Slender man, slender man
Creepy neighbourhood slender man
All your locks he's ignored
One thing's sure, you won't be bored

Look out! Life is a thing that's ending
Your psyche won't be mending
You met the slender maaaaaaaan

My brain. Sometimes I just don't know.  This popped into my head nearly completely formed shortly after listening to the episode of Tom Merritt and Molly Wood's excellent podcast 'It's A  Thing' which featured the Slender Man phenomenon.  
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Look Upon My Gear, Ye Mighty, And Repair
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: "Dust In The Wind" by Kansas

My warlock casts
Conjure up a demon from the fiery depths
The spell falls flat
My spec is gone, and everything I learned is wrong
Bits in the code
All we are is bits in the code

Once we strode
Like giants through the endgame, doing mighty deeds
But glory fades
Your grand achievements now just curiosities
Bits in the code
All we are is bits in the code

Game moves on
Level cap increases, once again we grind
New quests call
And all your epics won't another level buy
Bits in the code
All we are is bits in the code

This morning (28 December 2012) in the Tadpool, discussing the current WoW expansion and whether it was worth coming back to, Cory Latham made a comment about having too much time invested in his characters to roll new ones, and Christopher Dunn quipped that all that was meaningless, only the current expansion matters. And that got my filker brain working and this came out.

There have been two more World of Warcraft expansions that have come out since I wrote this, and it's still true, which hasn't always been true of my WoW filks :)

Undead Cat

Oct. 27th, 2016 04:38 pm
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Undead Cat
Lyrics by Rob Wynne
(TTTO: "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel)

Undead cat
It's not living now, and that is that
But somehow it still can move around
No you're never gonna keep it down

You'd better run from the undead cat
You won't win if you get in a spat
And if the sight of it should give you pause
You're gonna die by its undead claws
And drooling maw

And when you see where it is
It's too lay-ay-ate
And when you wake up
You make up its play-ay-ate

You'll see that you now are dead
Your poor sod
You've been fed to the undead cat
And your flesh has made it sleek and fat
And when it's tired of its catnip toys
It will go hunting for more girls and boys
Because they're moist

Undead cat
In Spanish, viviendo muerto gat-
O, maybe someday when you're on your own
Out in the woods, you hear a yowling moan
Won't make it home

And where it's stalking
You'll find you're its prey-ay-ay
There's no use talking
Unless it's to pray-ay-ay

You'll see that you now are dead
Your poor sod
You'd should've fled from the undead cat
You won't win if you get in a spat
And if the sight of it should give you pause
You're gonna die by its undead claws
And drooling maw

My brain and welcome to it.  (Sincere apologies to Billy Joel, and anyone with the slightest amount of taste)
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Sour Grapes
(or, Reflections on George Lucas's comments about the new Star Wars film)
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: "Send in the Clowns" by Stephen Sondheim

Doesn't it suck?
Don't you agree
This film that everyone's praising
Wasn't by me
Send in the clones.

Isn't it sick?
Isn't it sad?
Everyone loves this new Star Wars
It makes me mad.
Where are the clones?
Send in the clones

Just when I'd stopped
changing the score
Finally selling
the rights for billions more
Walking the carpet again
With my usual strut
Sure of my place
No one asks, but...

What have I wrought?
Jar Jar was panned
I thought that you'd want what I want
Sorry, my fans
But where are the clones?
Quick, send in the clones!
Don't bother, new plans

Aren't I rich?
Is that not enough?
Seeing that Abrams succeeded
where I failed is rough
And where are the clones?
There ought to be clones?
Well, maybe next film...
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Pass the Sage
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “Turn the Page” by Bob Seger

 


In a spacious TV studio, east of Tokyo
You can listen to the sous chefs as they scurry to and fro
And you wonder if tonight you’ll make an ice cream out of roe

And your thoughts will soon be focused on your culinary lore
When the chairman calls the challenger to step out on the floor
And you wonder if this night will be just like the nights before

Oh, here I am, stirring the wok again
There I am, watching the gauge
Here I go….racing the clock again
There I go…pass the sage

You walk into the stadium, and you stand upon the height
And you feel his eyes upon you, as he chooses you to fight
And another kitchen battle’s on; What will we cook tonight?

Sometimes you can’t hear ’em talk, other times you can
All those same old clichés: is that pudding, or a flan?
And you’re almost out of flour, but still you make it stand

Oh, here I am….Stirring the wok again
There I am, watching the gauge
Here I go….racing the clock again
There I go…pass the sage

From the moment that the grill is fired until the plates are served
All your skills and your talents are a legacy preserved
You cook to prove your iron reputation is deserved

Later, when the tastings done, and the compliments are shared
The chairman counts the ballot and the victor is declared
You know another challenge waits, and you will be prepared

Oh, here I am….Stirring the wok again
There I am, watching the gauge
Here I go….racing the clock again
There I go…there I go…

One new song debuted in my Orycon set in 2015. I actually wrote this a while ago, but decided not to post it until after I’d sung it in the wild somewhere, and that was the first time I had the chance.

Many people have written Iron Chef songs. This one is mine.
 

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The Shining Wit
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “Act Naturally” by Johnny Russell and Voni Morrison

I’m gonna get myself a girlfriend
I’m gonna go make all these women see
That I’m a man who knows how to explain things
And all I gotta says is “Well, actually…”

I promise you that I know all about it
I’m quite an expert, you can surely tell
Don’t worry your pretty head about it
'Cause I will make it simple as well

I know you’ll nod and see that I am right, here.
And jump into my arms and softly squee
You’ll fall for me the moment that I step up
To interrupt you, saying, “Well, actually…”

Yet somehow I wind sad and lonely
It makes me so mad; I just cannot see
I know that I did nothing to deserve this
The only thing I said was “Well, actually…”

I promise you that I know all about it
I’m quite an expert, you can surely tell
Don’t worry your pretty head about it
'Cause I will make it simple as well

I guess that she was just another hater
But I will get a girl eventually
She will not be able to resist me
When I interrupt her saying “Well, actually…”

Many thanks to Twitter user David Ballard (@dvdbllrd) for the inspiration for this.

autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

Do Ragna-wop
By Rob Wynne
TTTO:  ”The Lion Sleeps Tonight” by Solomon Linda

Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok

In the longboat, the freezing longboat
The Vikings sail tonight
Towards the tundra, the frozen tundra
The Vikings sail tonight

Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok

Against the giants, the mighty giants,
The Vikings fight tonight
For Odin’s glory, eternal glory
The Vikings fight tonight

Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok

In Valhalla, golden Valhalla
The Vikings drink tonight
‘Till the fighting, tomorrow’s fighting
The Vikings drink tonight

Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok
Ah Ragnarok, Ah ragnarok

Inspired by a USA Today article which proclaimed that according to the Viking calendar, the world was going to end on Saturday.  So tonight we’re going to party like it’s 799.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

Upon The Fields Of Catnip
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “Fields of Gold” by Sting

You’ll remember how I would always purr upon the fields of catnip
You’ll forget the spot where I used to sleep as we play with balls of yarn

So the time to go was a time I chose upon the fields of catnip
In her arms I slipped through the summer door to play with balls of yarn

“Won’t you stay with me? Must you leave so soon to roam the fields of catnip?
All these years you’ve gazed from your lofty perch and played with balls of yarn”

But the quiet calls and it’s time to go upon the fields of catnip.
Feel my body still as I slip away to play with balls of yarn

“I never sent you away lightly
and there have been times I regretted
But I thought you’d be there waiting to play with balls of yarn
We’ll play with balls of yarn”

Now a year has gone and I still run free upon the fields of catnip
Let a kitten romp through my favourite haunts and play with balls of yarn

You’ll remember how I would always purr upon the fields of catnip
I’ll be waiting here, ’till we meet again, and we’ll play with balls of yarn
We’ll play with balls of yarn
We’ll play with balls of yarn

It’s been a little over a year now since we lost Dayna.  Earlier today, I saw on Facebook that a friend’s beloved pet had crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and someone commented that he was “running around in fields of catnip now”, and this just poured out.  I still miss you, you weird furry little kitty.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

Foggy Duet

Dec. 23rd, 2013 02:01 pm
autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

Foggy Duet
by Rob Wynne
(TTTO: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” by Frank Loesser)

I really can’t stay
(But baby, there’s fog outside)
I’ve got to go away
(But baby, there’s fog outside)
This evening has been
(We should lock ourselves in)
So very nice
(I wish you would take my advice)
My mother will start to worry
(The visibility’s blurry)
And father will be pacing the floor
(Listen to the night creatures roar)
So I really should scurry
(They really seem to be in a fury)
But maybe half a drink more
(You grab a gun and I’ll bar the door)

The neighbours might think
(Baby, it’s mad out there)
Say, what’s in this drink?
(No hope to be had out there)
I wish I knew how
(Eyes shine in the darkness now)
To break this spell
(Sure, I wish I knew that as well)
I ought to say no, no, no, sir
(Fetch that gun from my holster)
At least I’m going to say that I tried
(In the morning, you’re sure to have died)
I really can’t stay
(No, baby, don’t go out)
Ah, but there’s fog outside (Baby, there’s fog outside)

I simply must go
(But baby, there’s fog outside)
The answer is no
(But baby, there’s fog outside)
This welcome has been
(It’s lucky that you dropped in)
So very warm
(Look out the window at that swarm)
My sister will be suspicious
(Those creatures probably think you’re delicious)
My brother will be at the door
(Eldritch creatures dripping with gore)
My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious
(I’m reasonably sure they’re malicious)
Well, maybe just a cigarette more
(That will kill you slower, I’m sure)

I’ve got to get home
(But you’ll catch your death out there)
Say, lend me your coat
(You’ll draw your last breath out there)
You’ve really been grand
(Need to take a stand)
But don’t you see?
(It’s best if you stay here with me)
There’s bound to be talk tomorrow
(There might not even be a tomorrow)
At least there will be plenty implied
(If everyone else hasn’t died)
I really can’t stay
(But I’ve got serious doubts)
Ah, but there’s fog outside (Baby, there’s fog outside)

Because, surely, Night Vale Community Radio plays seasonal music for the holidays.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

The Tacos of Shame
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” (16th century English carol)

I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I think I might die

Alone In my car
at the Office Bazaar
I ate six whole tacos
Now I think I might die

I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I think I might die

My throat it now burns
My stomach it churns
I ate six whole tacos
Now I think I might die

I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I think I might die

I’ve just me to blame
For my terrible shame
I ate six whole tacos
Now I think I might die

I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I wish I’d not had those tacos
I think I might die

I wish I’d not had those tacos
I think I might die

This is a bit of an inside joke for the Frogpants/Tadpool community.  I don’t think it requires a ton of context to understand what happened in this simple cautionary tale, though.  Merry Christmas, Mr. Johnson.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

A few months ago, we had a member of the group I hang out with on Facebook leave the group because he wanted to avoid spoilers1 for Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead.  Since the latter show just ended its half-season and is going on hiatus, he rejoined the group and announced he had returned.  I replied “Welcome back!” and then, as I reflexively do whenever I say those two words, appended “Your dreams were your ticket out.”  It’s just a thing I do.

Somehow, the juxtaposition of the theme from Welcome Back, Kotter and Breaking Bad stayed in my head, and a few minutes later I posted this:

For your consideration:

A 1970s era remake of “Breaking Bad” starring Gabe Kaplan and Ron Palillo.

One commenter noted that Ron Palillo sadly passed away not too long ago; I was aware of that, but somehow it was much funnier to me that our Jesse substitute was Horshack rather than any of the other Sweathogs.23 And, really, it might have ended there, but my friend Joey chimed in “With a theme by John Sebastian”.

At first, I tried to imagine how Sebastian might render Dave Porter’s brilliant Breaking Bad theme, but then I realised I was coming at it backwards.  The following just wrote itself:

Breaking Bad 
Your cancer was just an excuse
Breaking Bad
You always wanted to slip the noose

Well your dreams never were what you’d hoped they’d be
Now you’re out on the res in an old RV

Who’d have thought they’d come true
(Who’d have thought they’d come true)
Crystalised in ice blue
(Crystalised in ice blue)

Well, he’ll prob’ly wind up dead
‘Cause he’s in over his head
Breaking Bad
Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad

I really haven’t a clue what to do with this idea, but it’s continuing to entertain me.


  1. The longruning debate over when its okay to post spoilers into an open space continues to weary me, since, as I’ve posted about multiple times, it’s largely a question of manners

  2. I later decided that Vinnie and Epstein would be Badger and Skinny Pete, respectively.  Mr. Woodman is Gus Fring. Not sure there’s a good analogue in this scenario for Freddie. 

  3. ETA:  No, Boom-boom Washington is Skinny Pete.  Vinnie is Combo.  That works better. 

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (Dayna Larger)

The Ballad of The Swingman
by Rob Wynne and Jeff Williams
TTTO: “Wichita Lineman” by Jimmy Webb

I am a swing man for the Rockies
And I have no workflow
Waiting for the call
To enter and to throw
I see the batter and the catcher
I send a fastball, low inside
And the Cardinals first baseman
Hits it right down the line

I’d like this game to wrap up early
But it don’t look like rain
With extra innings our bullpen won’t ever take the strain
And we need more hits than strikeouts
And we strike out all the time
And the Cardinals first baseman
Hits it right down the line

And we need more hits than strikeouts
And we strike out all the time
And the Cardinals first baseman
Hits it right down the line

This is just a fun little insta that Jeff and I bantered in an IM conversation. (We have conversations like this all the time. Don’t you?)

The original song this is a parody of, “Wichita Lineman”, contains one of the greatest lyrics of any love song ever written. Click on the link above if you’ve never heard it.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (wait...what? - kitten)

Over in the Tadpool group on Facebook, there’s a thread on the topic of “What’s your favourite song to sing in the shower?”  One of the commenters wrote: “That’s a tough one I don’t know if I have a favorite… I will sing anything from Johnny Cash, Folsom Prisom1 Rainbow Connection.”

Being a filker, of course…and a filker fresh off a con where my creative brain is already in gear, the following just fell out of my head:

Why are there so many songs about prisons
And people who are inside?
I’m stuck in this one because once in Reno
I shot a man to watch him die
I guess, in hindsight, I kind of deserve it
It wasn’t a nice thing to do
But as that train rumbles past old Folsom Prison
I can’t help but cry, wouldn’t you?

I’m not sure there’s really a point in going further with it; the joke is complete at the end of the first verse.2 I really need to start a file just for little show-stoppers like this one.


  1. Quipped another:  ”Folsom Prism is my Johnny Cash ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ cover album.  I’d pay serious money for that album.  Serious money. 

  2. As Bill Sutton taught me:  ”Short is good.  Funny is good.  Short and funny is best. 

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

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Boba Fett Isn’t Dead
TTTO: “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” by Bauhaus

Red on green Mandalore armor
Back on the track

Boba Fett isn’t dead
The hunter left the sarlaac pit
The Jedi have all fled
Skywalker downs the sand skiff

Boba Fett isn’t dead
Boba Fett isn’t dead
Not dead! Not dead! Not dead!
Not dead! Not dead! Not dead!

The bounty hunters file past his tomb
Strewn with time’s lost contracts
Adrift in spacial slip
Alone on a darkened ship
The clone

Boba Fett isn’t dead
Boba Fett isn’t dead
Boba Fett isn’t dead
Not dead! Not dead! Not dead!
Not dead! Not dead! Not dead!
Not dead!

Oh Boba
Boba’s not dead
Oh Boba
Boba’s not dead

Boba’s not dead
Oh Boba
Boba’s not dead
Oh Boba

Boba Fett is an interesting character. He has about 20 minutes of screen time and five lines of dialogue in the original Star Wars trilogy, and still became one of its most enduring and popular characters. I can’t really think of anything else quite like it in popular culture.

If you’re like me and your Star Wars knowledge is primarily limited to the films, you may be unaware of the complex storyline that Boba Fett is at the centre of. In particular, you may not be aware that the character did not die in “Return of the Jedi”, but in fact escaped his fate and went on to have many more significant adventures in what is called the “Expanded Universe” of Star Wars lore.

I don’t recall with whom I was chatting about Star Wars (though I have a vague memory it was either Bryan Provost or Nigel Cox), but their reaction to my comment about Fett dying in RotJ was a forceful “Boba Fett isn’t dead!”, which managed to connect to the iconic refrain of this classic Bauhaus song. Not sure what to do with it, it sat in my unfinished songs folder for weeks, until the rest of it presented itself to me.

If you’re unfamiliar with the original tune and want to skip to the bit that has words in, jump to the 2:50 minute mark of the video linked above.

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

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Party of Four
by Rob Wynne and Jeffrey Williams
TTTO: “All Along The Watchtower” by Bob Dylan

I just don’t see a way into here
Said the cleric to the thief
This keep is too well defended
With its iron and stone motif
All these walls are much too high
The courtyard far too wide
Unless you’ve somehow learned how to fly
There is no way inside

No reason to get discouraged
The thief he softly spoke
There are many doors to pass through
And all these locks are but a joke
But you and I, we’ve fought the hordes
their treasure is our due
So let us not speak loudly now
It’s time to sneak on through

Down below the watchtower
There was a secret door
While the guardsmen paced and prowled
Inside slipped the four

Deep inside the cold dungeon
A wandering monster passed
The warrior pulled out his sword
And the mage began to cast

Another Dungeons and Dragons filk, this one started by Jeff with the opening lines, which he sent me in an instant message a few weeks ago.  While the song is by Dylan, the filk is most certainly of Jimi Hendrix’s iconic cover.  Now if only I could actually play it like that. :)

Mirrored from Home of the Autographed Cat.

autographedcat: (Default)
Inspired in small part by a conversation with Brooke. No actual children were fed inappropriate foods in the making of this song, though a sandwich may or may not have been misappropriated...

Don't Cry, My Dear, Have A Cracker
(Or, "I Always Swore I'd Never Be One Of Those Parents")
by Rob Wynne
TTTO: "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina" (Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Weber)

You are unhappy
I don't know why
And I try to work out how you feel
But you cannot speak words
You just sit there and cry
You don't believe me
When I say that
It will all be okay
Although you are fed, warm, and dry
I guess it's just that time of day

You threw aside your bottle
You've just been changed
Couldn't spend your whole day on my lap
Looking out of the window
Taking naps in the sun
So you chose screaming
Running around grabbing everything near
But nothing could calm you at all
And so my last resort is clear

Don't cry, my dear, have a cracker
It has cheese on, and some salami
It was an hors d'oeuvre
Made for a party
But you can eat one
There's no one looking

As for nutrition and all that jazz
At this point I really don't care
You can eat the whole tray
If that's what you desire
At least you're quiet
And if you remain still
And promise to nap
Then we can have ice cream for lunch
And soda and all of that crap

Don't cry, my dear, have a cracker
It has cheese on, and some salami
It was an hors d'oeuvre
made for a party
But you can eat them
There's no one looking

Have I done too much?
There's nothing left here, I can't feed you any more
But all you have to do
Is look at me and cry
And I'll run to the store...
autographedcat: (Default)
National Public Radio recently posted a poll to determine the 100 Best Thriller Novels of all time, based on recommendations from their listeners. Much to her surprise and delight, [livejournal.com profile] seananmcguire discovered that her book FEED had made the top 200 list and was eligible in the reader poll for the top 100.

Some people in the comments complained that they couldn't get the poll to come up properly, due to filtering software at their location. [livejournal.com profile] kyburg commented "I've refreshed so many times I'm the $#@%! Old Spice Man."

And my brain went click.

So here, for your enjoyment, is the Isaiah Mustafa Old Spice commercial I imagine for Mira Grant's novel, FEED:

"Hello, readers. Look at your book. Now back to me. Now back at your book. Now back to me. Sadly, you aren't me, but if you stopped reading trashy airport novels and switched to FEED by Mira Grant, you could be well-read like me. Look down, back up, where are you? You're on the beach with the person you could be as well read as. What's in your hand, back at me. I have it; it's an epidemiology textbook with an explanation of the science behind the Kellis-Amberlee virus. Look again, the textbook is now a DVD of the future Rosemary and Rue movie. Anything is possible when you read FEED by Mira Grant. I'm on a velociraptor."

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