Eddie The Snowden

Eddie the Snowden
Was a jolly CIA
With a corn cob grin, warnin’ of Top’s sin
An in exile way down south

Eddie the Snowden
Said, “Beware of what you sayyy”
He made his way from the office, hey
And he’s gone now you can see

He flew to Moscow, eating borst
And he had no plane to hop
Uncle Sam they said to Russia
Bring us Ed and stop!

Wellll…

Eddie the Snowden
Made the childen cry, “no fair”
He’s in Argentia or someplace
Saying “catch me if you cannn!”

Thumpitty thump thump
Government cover up
Look at Eddie go
He’ll be back… a-gain… someday!!

Come back someday, Mr. Snowden
To play!

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Dance Magic Dance

I am a little blue bird
Who cannot sing
With gimpy wing
What fo’ I do? Hoo doo!

Dance, magic dance
Like a soldier in pink camo
Marshmallow for ammo
Shoot Pootin in da face

Dance magic, dance
Like a mean gorrila
Bananer sasparilla
Swig-a-roo

I once was a pilot droppin’ balms
Of healing on the infidel

Dance magic- dance
On fire, my flamer pants
Dancing 3.2 GPA thru hi school
Dancin’ like a fool.

Marshmallow missles
Candy corn warheads
Diabetes type I and two
I wear sneakers, not boots- a shoe

Intermission

(Intermission over! Start mandolin ballad:)

If I was a rich boy
Doo dee doo diddle deedle whiddy dum
If I was a rich rich boy
On a carrier, bubblegum herrier

If I was a richy boy

Strummin’ away
On a tiny 8 string
No one can’t silence
My dance magic strings

If I was a boy
A very rich boy
If I was a rich
Rich boy

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Gaff I

In da end o
Two thouw an’
three-ten
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I suppose
An expandation
Of understooditude
Helps…
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My new yeahz rezolut-shun
Is hazy at bess

So whah? Uh? Eh? Whaddevah.
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Rabbits hike it up

So
I up da ante…
I declare that time
No longer goes on.

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It must take a sharp turn.
Then evbody who wan
Da erf to die can peetend
And us we all go sideways.
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Sirius me

Thats me gift, yo
To go to December 32nd.
Never end 2013
Just go Dec 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38…
(Just a sec…)… •cough• pardon,
39, December 40th, 2013. And ON…

This will stop all the national debt.
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Trillions. Our counrty will be declared insane. The Russian in the middle 20th century had a calender of 5 and 6 week days.
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They
put a man at the bottom of the ocean.
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The USA baptised
a badguy permnit
-Did they get a
permanent for
They are world
Scare dressers.
(If you are too
scary, they lean you
back hoping the
truth will be set free.

TRUTH is, the Truth you shall know and truth will setcha free. The Good Book contains violence but you do not hafta.
NAFTA? Maybe.
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I say we refuse to reconize our foreign debt in USA AND give $500,000 to everybody, stock up on red bull, red box and stay away from reds who shred our crdit ability- put it all on the US govts bank of China card.

We’ll teach them for cyber espionage!
Its totally “not not not not not” that easy!!
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Happy 2013… the year that keeps giving!!

S.s

Life After Watership Down…

We at Syntax Press conducted a short
interview with a rabbit named, “Thomas”, whose father’s fell in the Great War. We asked simply, “What do you DO now?”.

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Thomas of The Treehorns:

“We play a lot of football. We found the balance of our biochemistry and aggression best funneled in competitive synergy, fare and… yeah.

     Screw that rabbit of death. We like the Trix rabbit. I gotta go. I’m up. I kick.”

   Well, there you have it. “Watership Afloat” I suppose.

S.s

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Solitaire Chess

“Everybody is playing, but nobody’s home.”

   If you send your pawns out in solitaire chess… you are screwed. If you keep them in, it hurts. You are damned if you do or if you don’t.

   In solitaire chess if your s pawns, pardon- pawns cross ova, I mean over to the other side… the far side? They will get bigger. Normally in chess, its awesome. You get a queen terminator.

  But in this game started by a German Philanderor who gave a lot of money to one orphange ONLY, Alister Komenzie- this game is called “Halbe Konig” or “Half of the King”. It took half of the king to fill up the orphanage… if ya know what I mean.

   Then when der kinder said “who is my daddy?”, one of 12 maids would hand a child the mysterious Halbe Konig to explain the birds and the bees. The German child would say, “Oh so Alister is my papa, the man who owns the chocolate factory? HE is a polygamist? Should we call Politzei?? Polygamy is zer illegal!”

     “Shush, shush,” says Mama 11. “Alister is a billionaire with memory problems, son. He is your daddy, and he is fun. But if you do not shut up, you will not get you share of €100,000,000 and its all for nothing.

    So once all the kids learn this, they form a gang. The Milka Millionaire Club.
If you play chess halfway, what that means… is not open for interpretation.
If you would please move along, I’d appreciatiate. I can’t stand someone reading my shtick for too long or else they might waste their time. Don’t read on global warming though. Bleeding heart, aw fergit that. Watch a you tube cat smack into a window.

     Stupid cats. I love them, but my fish know not to walk into glass. People do it too. It feels so offending. Like what the fuh-hoo-hah… were you here first, glass? One time I was mad, decided I would Starksky & Hutch punch my car windshield, piece of shit car anyway.
I hit my windshield full force… it must have reverberated but didn’t break.

     I friggin assaulted myself at 18. I’m 39 now- it wasn’t ME, it was him-me, back then. Shidd head. Memory doesn’t hurt. My hand went 100% dead numb. I thought I KILLED MY HAND FOREVER. Oh!! Whoa!! That hurt SO choice. I felt like an open hear surgery under a blue sky. Looking for Anasthasia. Desperately seeking a sweet girl named Anasthetia to kiss my mitt boo-boo bye-bye. Tweedle-dumb. I think it was my hand’s way of saying, “You STUPID motherflogger. I am shutting off all my nerves. I am not EVEN GOING to TALK to you.

   Well, after all I said… in seri seri seriousness… if your kid is like your right hand, treat them as good as you do yourself. Maybe better. Maybe sacrifice. Don’t crucify your kids. By the way, some parents put their kid on a mission- if you a christian, bible says Jesus said, Father I will do what you ask.

    If you try to force your kids, dont. You already lost. Back up. Be a good loser. Learn how to win another way. With all that that Ive said, thats just me peeling a layer off my angst and burnin it, blowing smoke off my weeds to get you high.

And thats all I am.
Man spam.
In a bod can.

|S| Syntaxation… … flat rate apllies

I Do And Don’t Worry About The Future

Do you know what I mean by making that philosophical statement??

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          My “pope meets jockey English Guard impression. No one understands my impresions.

      Well, they do. But I kinda car-crash things. Concepts. Floobum-lids. Cow-chunk-hoppers. Quasilibrobiopsies…

Oh. Making up words. I thought this was “Pop Up Post” time. No. Proceeding…

Dairy-dailliance… flirting with the milk maid? Sweet.

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Friend-befiendery… being a terrible Facebook friend.

Tom-a-schuck…      shucking corn…
                                with a Sioux… ax

Taletailing…           …adding shit to
                someone else’s story, then
                 its yours

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Rabbinicarodapfeffier…  …one who
                                         declares rabbits
                                           kosher

Parthorhine…              …one who has a
                                  a farmer’s
                           handkerchief habit

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Dealstick…             …a pointed
                                 protuberance
                                 mean to be used
                                with skill, sparingly

(Or to spar)

That’s it.

Galeroofer
Kaleleaflet
Rudimentrimint
Goopfest

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First-ish
Fresherest
Linghamfroster
Yaleprincer           …basturds. Kidn. 🙂
Felltowered
Flimsyflam

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Flamflamer
Flamingoss
Gossinghilden
Holdingsworth
Ryecatcher         …holdenhero
Yulebanger
Topnotcher

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                        ( sim etern)

Openheimmer

Hi-er  (a person who says, “hi” twice all
               the time.)
Buttspankovich…    heavy metal band
                                     name
Oilate…    to make technically “oily”
                 Some people slather in on
                  their body. We who “oilate”
                 are servicing our Nascars.

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Joininglessness…  …an “in-your-face”
                                   Way to express
                                         s o l i t u d e

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                         (A kickcurb)

Eschatologated…     …done

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The Meetinlator

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I’m here to meet yor needs
Don’t be scared and run
From my antimatternuclear bomb strapped to the suprachaismatic nucleus in my brain- my SCN

         This is the Meetinlator. The “meet your needs terminator”. All he wants to do
*smash table sitting on it 3000lb man* 
                               is talk.

      He says,

      “I am the T-2014 Space Modulator Monkey Boy and I wear ledderhosen for good posture.”

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I play with children well.

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I make your diet… right. Right now.
Come with me if you want to live. (I say that because it pisses off Arnold. He is just a governator. I am real. I won’t be back. You die. Just kidding. See. I am funnier than Austrian rich pool boy in his pool of California cash. Austriacisised from soceity. A liitle. For
Having a boy?

    I call Arnold’s maid’s son “cool”. Why do these things happen? I don’t know. He has lean genes man. I hope the boy gets a blessing and some padre time.
I think more of that boy than I do of Arnold. And so should Arnold.

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