[First appeared in Points in Case — August 2020]
During the first 97 minutes of the latest Syfy mutant monster movie — Ferretcuda — you’ve laughed at me as I’ve (mostly metaphorically) soiled my pants every time the wind blew.
You howled in act one when I was hanging out with my friends — star quarterback Brad, his cheerleader girlfriend Candi, and cute-nerdy-girl-I’ve-had-a-crush-on-since-third-grade-though-I’ve-been-too-petrified-for-the-past-eight-years-to-tell-her Nicole — and Brad’s pet ferret jumped in my lap and I shrieked, spit out my joint, spilled Mountain Dew on myself, and ran and locked myself in the bathroom, only to run shrieking right back out when its furry brother chittered up at me from the sink. And why wouldn’t you? I’m the cowardly comic relief. …
The third in my unplanned trilogy of holiday parodies. I promise I’m done. For now. Probably. Follow along to the original with the link at the end.
(I suggest some vigorous vocal exercises and maybe a bit of light stretching before tackling the fourth verse)
Oh I must face I’ve grown for the holidays
Now I can’t fit in any pants I own
Doin’ fine, felt in my prime, well past Labor Day
Come the holidays, my gut’s shaped like a dome
Since sneaking Kit Kats meant for Halloween
I don’t eat, I gorge. What’s this mania? I must stop — hey, is that pie?
Could fill a stadium with the stuffin’ and the turkey I devoured
Tons of hors d’eouvres made me quite sick, gee, I think I ate the…
(Follow along to the slightly more festive original with the link below. Merry Coughmas!)
It’s the most Covidful time of the year
We’re all stuck in our dwellings
Avoiding expellings from coughs that we fear
It’s the most hoard Purell time of the year
For the crap-crappiest reason of all
There was no trick-or-treating
Nor Thanksgiving eating
It screwed up our fall
It’s a fun-handicapped season for all
So with gov’nors imposing
Our bodies away from germed souls
Quarantine can be boring
What’s this Netflix warning? Oh
Seems that I’ve watched every show
It’s the most Covidful time of the year
There is much we’re foregoing
Frustration is growing
Can’t pet no reindeer
It’s a mall-Santa-free time of the…
Taking a song about the true meaning of Christmas and turning it into a song about the TRUE meaning of Christmas. Follow along to the original with the link below.
I come to ye Paypal
Shopping while recumbent
So comfy, so comfy, while I buy a ham
Cash, I’m not holding
Pocketfuls of change won’t
End up in jars ignore-ed
Coin wrapping, what a chore — bleh
Won’t come inside your store, friend
Can’t stand the hordes
Col-lect my data
Pinpoint my location
Email me incentives to join shopper clubs
But my VISA cards—
You will not have access
There’s nothing you want more than
Those digits stored in your hands
But I have made other plans
TV viewers are going quite mad
Often pointing and yelling, “Egad!” *
‘Cause while watching a show
They’re interrupted, you know
By another political ad.
Just one week till it’s over, we pray
When the scariest of ghouls goes away
A thing in the night that goes bump?
No, much worse — Donald Trump
Screw Halloween, let’s get past Election Day.
Sure, a vampire will give you a fright
Biting necks just ain’t cool, amirite?
But I’ll take the undead
Over a map that’s gone red
When the voting comes in Tuesday night.
*These are, of course, tv viewers who have time traveled from the late-1600’s.
(This story first appeared in Robot Butt in June, 2020. Why you didn’t read it then is a mystery.)
8:00 — 10:00: Stranger Things — Dad parks himself on a downtown bench and yells things at strangers.
10:00 — 11:00: Game of Thrones — Contestants must guess how long Dad will be in the bathroom based on the reading material he takes with him and whether he had tacos for lunch. Technically, the winner is the one to guess closest without going over, but nobody ever goes over.
8:00 — 9:00: Doctor Who — Dad loudly denounces medical experts he doesn’t agree with on the grounds that he’s never heard of them. …
(This was previously published in Points in Case in December 2019. It’s appearing here now because it’s been brought to my attention that, bizarrely, some of you don’t scour the internet with the sole intention of discovering stuff I’ve written.)
Where does my girlfriend Amy get off breaking up with me for “not having a personality” without even taking the time to read my 137 novelty t-shirts?
Look, I get it. Sometimes people don’t click. Even if the physical relationship is rocking, which I bet it would have had we gotten that far. (Hey, can you return an unopened bottle of Bedroom Blaster supplements?) But no personality? That’s crazy! I have personality out the wazoo! Out 137 wazoos, to be exact! …
Major League Baseball’s naively ambitious 60-game season looks like it could fizzle out in a week and a half — so let’s sing along seventh-inning-stretch-style with this ditty set to John Fogerty’s Centerfield.
(You’re probably wondering: didn’t he already do a baseball parody based on John Fogerty’s Centerfield? The one abou— hahaha, no, of course you aren’t wondering that! Why would you remember that? Jeez, ego much, Mike?)
You say I’m dumb, the risks were known
But still I went and played
Damn the spread — got my ass on the field
Thought it was GERD, but what did I know? …
(Follow along with Huey and the boys via the video below)
I’ll miss five-dollar lemonades
That wash the corn dogs down
But crazy food embellishments? I live to scarf them down!
Now they’re saying I gotta wait — no deep-fried french eclairs!
Covid is to blame, we
Miss out on cool weird fare
“No burgers on a donut, son —
There ain’t no state fair.”
They nixed the state fair!
Can’t get my hands on wacky foods?
Like twice-deep-fried Twinkies?
Miss forking out a whole week’s pay for things I shouldn’t eat
A puddinged funnel cake or three (it’s good to have a spare)
Tot nachos with gravy
Fried ice cream everywhere
Damn virus is denying…