Is there a rule that says you can no longer write new Christmas songs? you can remake the old ones but you cannot write new ones.
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What else is there to write about tho? Really this holiday has been plumbed out so much there isn't a whole lot left to say. "Oh it's cold as balls/my face is red/I look like I am drunk/which is cool/because I am/cuz winter fucking sucks/the roads are icy/my tires are bald/it's scarier the Gary Busey/I'd rather drag my balls in broken glass then see snow ever again/fuck Frosty that magical abortion/him and his hat/rather melt him with a hair dryer then sing that song again/oh hear him scream/hear him scream/what a joyous sound/next on my list/boy he makes me pissed/is that little drummer boy/that flaming queer needs to stop that shit/its drilling into my brain/I'll return the favor/with my Black and Decker/then wear his face like a mask/take a swig from my flask/and curse the heavens one last time/for here comes the final crime/Santa that fatty/he's last to go/with his fucking ho ho ho/wobbly as hell/and oh man the smell/when his belly started frying/the elves started crying/I bust out the shotty/because boy I've been naughty/and do what I do best/fuck me, winter sucks time for rest"
Posted by: Danish
105 days ago
Holy, Shit. I can only imagine the music that goes with these lyrics. Good luck at the Grammy's.
Posted by: GeneralsBitch
105 days ago
I have my acceptance speech prepared already.
Posted by: Danish
105 days ago
And, it will go down in history. Quoted for years. Memorized by school kids.
Posted by: GeneralsBitch
105 days ago
"Daddy why are you crying? Was it something that strange man said?" "Yes son, on day you will understand, and you too will weep at the sheer mad brilliance of it all."
Posted by: Danish
105 days ago
I'm bored so I wrote another Christmas song. It's called Super Spam the Christmas Ham. "Ooooh super spam/ the Christmas ham/ is soft and pink and white/ to see him playing in the snow is a joyous sight/ he's a friendly little feller/ better then that fucker Ol' Yeller/ he won't get rabies/ can't give you scabies/ and constantly smells like bacon/ now Super Spam has lots of pals/ his twisted penis popular with the gals/ he was king of the world, the thought/ completely unaware of a dastardly plot/ a thing so heinous/ worse then Rosie O'Donnell's anus/ that would send poor Spam to his doom/ it was Christmas day, all sunny and bright/ Super Spam left his house unaware of his plight/ he began to trot/ to his sacred spot/ right in the middle of town/ for the town has a feast each year/ where the villagers eat and drink beer/ some incest is had/ but it's not all bad/ when your grandpa is also your dad/ each year, you see they enjoy a roast/ and the roast they enjoy the most/ why it's ham/ little Super Spam/ that they eat every year/ but something was wrong this year/ nobody was out drinking beer/ folks ran at his sight/ began quivering in fright/ doors were bolted/ chickens molted/ but still Super Spam continued/ when he go to his spot/ he heard a loud shot/ and saw the villagers in a mob/ they had death in their eyes/ he looked up to the skies/ he sat still as a stone/ all small and alone/ till the chief of the village came/ he asked why all this hate/ wasn't pork great/ his reply came swift and true/ it's not you/ it's Swine Flu"
Posted by: Danish
104 days ago
This is a great tune - I think you're ready for Broadway - or at least, the Radio City Music Hall Christmas show!
Posted by: GeneralsBitch
103 days ago
this is more than b'kissed. this is a gourmet unto itself.
Posted by: jillbean
104 days ago
All my Ruminations get denied for some reason. I'll never figure it out, like a bra clasp.
Posted by: Danish
104 days ago
You can sample in "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas" and the Cops theme
Posted by: guitarjim
104 days ago
hahaha fantastic!
Posted by: paolosangeles
105 days ago
-When I was a teenager growing up in the suburbs, if we couldn’t find a house to drink in we’d simply kick back beers in the park until the cops inevitably came and chased us through the woods. We were young and stupid and it was fucking awesome. More than a decade later, that exhilarating sensation borne of adrenaline infused with alcohol comes much more infrequently. Which is why since college I have endeavored to take a foreign adventure with the boys at least once every eighteen months or so. Much to my dismay, however, this year’s trip was difficult to organize, because married guys are not allowed and the ranks of the unmarried have dwindled precipitously. Thus when me and three friends – two from high school (Matt and Triplet #2), and one from college (Danny) – embarked for Argentina and Uruguay three weeks ago, there was an unspoken air of finality about the proceedings. This would be the last bachelor party.
-Upon arriving in Buenos Aires, I quickly discovered that, when absolutely hammered, I am fluent in Spanish. Though I haven’t studied or spoken it since high school, when I get a few drinks in me I become like one of those head trauma victims who mysteriously speak French flawlessly. At one point, Matt and I were spitting Spanish so well that a few locals asked us to produce our driver’s licenses to prove we were American. Unfortunately, I look so fat and he looks so young that they just didn’t believe they were our IDs.
-Twentysomething Argentines eat dinner at 11pm, hit the clubs at 2am, and stay out until 8am. It’s like living in a bizarro world. After five straight nights of that I had no idea what day of the week it was or if my next meal should be breakfast or dinner. I once tried to go to a bank but the sign said they don’t open – open!! – until 4pm. I just don’t understand how they live like that year-round. I’m sorry, but it’s not healthy for Happy Hour to be at midnight.
-Argentina is super cheap. We went out every night and made it rain but never even came close to dropping $100 US in a restaurant or bar. They’re also not big tippers. If Argentines tip at all it’s max 10%. It’s funny how the American brain is so hardwired. We physically could not bring ourselves to tip less than we usually do. As a result every cab driver and waitress from Palermo Viejo to Plaza Serrano loved us. Forget Obama – me and my boys single-handedly brought international goodwill back to America.
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