You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch
You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Grinch.
You're a bad banana
With a greasy black peel.
You're a monster, Mr. Grinch.
Your heart's an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders,
You've got garlic in your soul.
Mr. Grinch.
I wouldn't touch you, with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.
You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch.
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile.
Mr. Grinch.
Given the choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crockodile.
You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
Mr. Grinch.
The three words that best describe you, are, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."
You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch.
You're the king of sinful sots.
Your heart's a dead tomato splot
With moldy purple spots,
Mr. Grinch.
Your soul is an apalling dump heap overflowing
with the most disgraceful assortment of
deplorable rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.
You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch.
With a nauseaus super-naus.
You're a crooked jerky jockey
And you drive a crooked horse.
Mr. Grinch.
You're a three decker saurkraut and toadstool
sandwichWith arsenic sauce.
Song Two
The 12 Days Of Christmas (For the politically correct)
On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my
Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to
me:
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,'
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of
members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in
their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),
TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal
ruling class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products
from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
(NOTE after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throwred paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge
have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid furtherAnimal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has beenrevised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs
THREE deconstructionist poets
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses
AND a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
P.S Merry Christmas to one and all (and all and all and all and.....)
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