Dirty songs! Yea!!
Okay, so I'm sure everyone is going to possibly think I am even more insane that you already do (quiet in the peanut gallery)...but as I mentioned yesterday, I found a delightful book of songs in the resource center called Roll Me Over yesterday. Immediately, my curiosity was piqued.
I cannot possibly summarize the book better than the author's forward, from which I will paraphrase:
"This is primarily a collection of dirty songs...The songs are not great literature, and if they can be defended, it must be on other grounds. Most of the songs here are funny. It is hard to find a ribald song that is not humorous. Some of these songs are straight wish-fulfillment. Some are incredibly nasty and disgust even the relatively shock-proof editors. But there is also a goodly number of sprightly, good-humored, tuneful, and (we believe) funny songs, some of them fit for the most maidenly ear. This is a singer's collection."
And so folks, I leave you with at least a few verses from some of the more entertaining songs. :)
I tried to find a humorous and not to long song from the Elizabethan age, but I was unsuccessful. Possibly one of my favorite songs in the book is the ORIGINAL version of one of the Robert Burns poems that I am familiar with - Green Grow the Rashes. As far as I was concerned, the poem went like this:
Green grow the rashes, oh/green grow the rashes, oh/The sweetest hour that ever I spent/Was spent among the lasses oh/Lasses oh!
However, according to the lovely book in front of me...that is not quite how the original poem went:
Green grow the rashes, oh/green grow the rashes, oh/The sweetest bed I ever had was/was the bellies of the lasses, oh/Lasses, oh!
Green grow the rashes, oh/green grow the rashes oh/The maidens they have luscious lips/The widows they have gashes oh/Gashes oh!
There's a pious lass in town/Godly Lizzie Lundy oh/She mounts the peak throughout the week/But fingers it on Sunday oh/Sunday oh!
Lizzie is of large dimension/There is not a doubt of it/The soccer team went in last night/And non has yet come out of it...
Um...yeah, it continues, but I'm going to spare typing it out, because there is oh-so-much-more to write about.
Moving right along...
This next one is described as a "gentle explanation of sex manag[ing] to avoid any reference to the birds and the bees." Nevertheless funny.
When the good Lord made Father Adam, they say he laughed and sang/Sewed him up the belly with a little piece of wang/But when he'd got it finished, I guess he measured wrong/For the piec ehe'd sewed him up with was very much too long.
"It's but eight inches long," said he, "I guess I'll let it hang,"/And he left on Adam's belly that little piece of wang/But when he made Mother Eve, I bet it made him start/For the piece he sewed her up with was very much too short.
"It leaves an awful crack," said he, "but I don't give a dang/She can fight it out with Adam for that little piece of wang"/And ever since that ancient day when human life began.There's been a constant wage of strife between a woman and a man/For the woman swears to have that piece that on his belly hang/To fill that awful crack that's left when the Lord ran out of wang.
So let us not be selfish, boys, wit that the women lack/But keep them busy on the wang to fill that crack.For the good Lord never intended that it should idle hang/When he placed on Adam's belly that little piece of wang.
(So that's where everybody wang chung tonight comes from?)
Next!
The delightful tune "Clementine" provides us with another delightful song...
Sing a love song, sing a paean/Sing of pleasures, yours and mine/But in all your happy verses/Don't forget old sixty-nine.
It's immoral, it's indecent/It's repulsive - but sublime!/Though they tell me it's perversion/Still I like to sixty-nine.
Hint it subtly, don't appall her/She might feel it's less than fine/Making love, but quite inversely/She might not take to sixty-nine.
Sneak up on her, do not startle/Let your kisses flow like wine/But descend, ah, gently, gently/As you sink to sixty-nine.
(There are four more verses here, but I'm done.)
Ummm...so the next one talks about the sex lives of camels!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
This song is call Mush, Mush, Mush Touraliady...but I'm just going to include verses 2 and 3, because they are somewhat intriguing...
The sexual life of the camel/Is greater than anyone thinks/In moments of amorous passion/He often makes love to the Sphinx.
Now the Sphinx's posterior organs/Are blocked by the sands of the Nile/Which accounts for the hump on the camel/And the Sphinx's inscrutable smile.
(Right, that explains EVERYTHING).
And now! This explains the Nazi party...
Hitler has only got one ball.
Goering's are awfully small.
Himmler's are similar
And Goebbels has no balls at all.

Umm...yeah. I'm done for the day. Some day, I'll tell you all about Christopher Columbus. But not today.
- posted by L. @ 7:09 PM