The great thing about parodying Steve Miller’s “Take the Money and Run” is that it doesn’t give a crap about proper meter or rhyme, so you don’t have to either.

Here’s a story ’bout a new rabbit warren
The kind of place where the does aren’t
They sit around the down, laze, and chew their pellets
Here’s what happened when they decided to get zealous

They headed down to Nuthanger Farm
Saw a cat that might do them harm
They got the latch, they freed the hutch
Hazel-rah told the bunnies to run

Go on, take the bunny and run
Go on, take the bunny and run (Woo, woo, woo!)
Go on, take the bunny and run
Go on, take the bunny and run

Woundwort is the tyrant of Efrafa
Got a head that’s full of hraka
He’s not gonna let his does join Bigwig
They have to stay in his dystopia

Bigwig, whoa, whoa, he slipped away
With a bunch including Hyzenthlay
The white bird aided in their getaway
They reached a place where they were free to silflay

Go on, take the bunny and run
Go on, take the bunny and run
Go on, take the bunny and run
Go on, take the bunny and run…

Polynices: Well, that’s another story; the important thing here is you gotta ask me how I’m gonna get down to the shore.

Eteocles: Uh, how you gonna get down to the shore?

Polynices: Funny you should ask. I’ve got a monster now.

Eteocles: Oh wow, how’d you get a monster?

Polynices: Oh, my parents rode it here from the Cyclades.

Eteocles: You’re kidding!

Polynices: I must be, the Cyclades are islands. Okay, the important thing now is that you ask me what kind of monster I have.

Eteocles: Uh, what kinda monster do ya’ got?

Polynices: I’ve got a BITCHIN CHIMERA!



Lion, snake and goat


Three heads, but just one throat


My folks bought me a BITCHIN CHIMERA, and forgot to get it spayed;

So now every other month, it needs to get monstrously laid.

My chimera ate an old lady, last night at the Sophocles play

But I didn’t get arrested, ’cause the oracle said it’s OK.



Fewmets on your lawn


Homer’s rosy-fingered dawn


When I ride past the Trojans, they’re all real annoyed,

Because I’ve got a BITCHIN CHIMERA and they just get destroyed.

So you’d better get out of my way, when I ride past your pad;

Because I’ve got a BITCHIN CHIMERA, and Hermes is my Dad.



Hey, man, are you fartin’?


No, that’s just the Spartans!

Once upon there was a little lobster, and his name was Mushroom. Like all little lobsters, Mushroom wanted to create a massive shared movie universe franchise.

“But what shall I use for a basis?” he asked.

“What about all the flavors of Life Savers?” said his friend Barbed Wire.

But instead they decided to make the adventures of a full range of Burpee’s Seed packets. And the first phase of five movies were:

  • The Aubergine Game
  • The Turnip Game
  • Carrots Carrots Carrots
  • The Cabinet of Dr Caligari
  • The Jerusalem Artichoke Game

These movies were a great success, and enabled Mushroom and Barbed Wire to buy themselves shiny diamond rings, which they ate, and Cadillac Escalades, which they did not.

But Mushroom was troubled.

“Why are you troubled, Mushroom?” asked Barbed Wire.

“Our next film must be the big crossover number that unites the first five films and sets up Phase II. But I cannot think of a sufficiently evocative villain.”

Comprehending his friend’s plight, Barbed Wire was moved to tears. Then the pair went out to drag race their Cadillac Escalades up and down the Miracle Mile.

“Celery!” screamed Barbed Wire as he passed Mushroom on the right.

“No!” responded Mushroom.

“Bok Choy!” roared Barbed Wire as they almost rolled their vehicles going around a corner.

“No!” said Mushroom, waving his antennae in frustration.

They wrecked out in front of the Beachfront Casino. Crawling from the wreckage, Mushroom had an idea. “Perhaps the corrupt lumen space of this establishment will inspire me to find an antagonist!”

The security guard noted them as high rollers. As they stepped on the casino floor, waitresses competed to bring the pair Long Island Iced Teas. After so many drinks, they began to quarrel, and then argue, and then Barbed Wire picked up Mushroom and flung him across the room. The little lobster landed on the roulette table, on number 40.

“Forty!” announced the croupier.

Drunkenly, Mushroom crawled toward the croupier to collect his winnings—except he grabbed the wheel in the middle of its spin. The force flung the little lobster across the room, smack into a slot machine. One of his uropods sank into the coin slot, deep enough to activate it. His claws flailed, caught the machine’s arm. He rode the lever down as the machine sounded JACKPOT!

A silvery waterfall of coin poured over Mushroom’s carapace as lay prone beneath the slot.

“LEEKS!” he proclaimed.

This is a filk set to the tune of Sly and the Family Stone’s “M’Lady” about what some believe to be the single worst television series of all time “Pink Lady and Jeff.”

Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!

Two smiles of pleasure, beauties from Japan

One pretty face, two pretty face
Can’t speak the English tongue

See them when Jeff, hey
Gives ’em some attention
Then does Nixon now

Give ’em a show (show, show)

Give ’em a show (show, show)

Give ’em a show (show, show)


Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!

Yes yes yes no now,
Yes yes yes no now, yeah yeah yeah yeah!

Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!
Pink Lady!


2008: Movie studio Merry Christmas Pictures, having sold the film rights to their major intellectual properties Santa Claus and the Grinch, releases “Blitzen,” centering on a third-tier character. Former child star Danny Bonaduce, desperate to restart his career and willing to work for scale, stars. The film is an unexpected critical and commercial success, collecting $400 million at the box office.

2009: Buoyed by the success, Merry Christmas tries again, releasing “Hermey the Elf” with Peter Dinklage in his first lead role. Again, the film wows audiences and critics alike, taking home $450 million. Enthused by the response so far, MC screenwriters promise to give their next villain a name.

2009: In response to the burgeoning popularity of the Merry Christmas films, rival studio Delightful Christmas Pictures revives their Grinch franchise, which was allowed to lapse after the infamous Who-nipple failures of the late 90s. In a dramatic reimagining, “Grinch: In The Cave” is a dark window into obsession, hedonism, and cardiovascular giganticism. The movie performs well at the box office, but not quite as as well as the MC pictures.

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Frankly, I’m beginning to think the very idea of awards is obsolete, what with climate change and the way the Nikkei’s been acting lately. But if massive, Maoist-prairie-fire-like grassroots movements should arise and demand I be recognized, who am I to demure? The awards for which I am this year eligible are:

  • “Best of Boston,” Sidewalk Busker Drumming On Plastic Bucket category
  • GG Allin Memorial Blood Poisoning Prize
  • 2019 Toledo, Ohio Reading Society “Keeping the ‘Lit’ in ‘Literary'” Award

And my eligible works are as follows:

  • Finnegan’s Wake ‘n Bake, Sty Books: The marriage between James Joyce and stoner humor that we all secretly craved.
  • “Like Tears Down One’s Face Flowed the Wadi On the Hillside,” The New Yorker, 4/35/19 issue: The tale of a rebellious young Somaliland woman who disdains the groom chosen by her father in favor of a qat grower from an enemy subclan. Wacky hijinks ensue in this lighthearted, life-affirming romantic comedy.
  • “(#&*@{,” Asimov’s Science Fiction, March issue. The first ever story in the magazine’s history to be composed entirely of punctuation marks

As Messrs. Bartles and Jaymes did in a previous era, I thank you for your support.

“Whenever I stand on the back porch and hear those ‘la-la-lala-la-la’s, I know we’re in for it again.”

Mrs. Hortense Milksnake is surveying the destruction of her Dead Bird, Iowa farm. For as far as the eyes can see, crops have been reduced to stubble.

“I used to think Smurfs were harmless. Not no more.”

First brought to the United States as toys during a brief craze in the Eighties, smurfs have become, in the words of one scientist, “a developing ecological catastrophe.” Damage from the creatures this year is expected to top $1 billion in Iowa alone.

In contrast to the image in comics drawn by Belgian cartoonist Pierre Culliford—better known by his alias, “Peyo”–Smurfs are not cute, asexual little men. Experts say the female Smurf bears two litters a year of up to ten young each. Within a few generations, they form ravenous swarms.

“Don’t let their size fool you,” say local RV salesman Hal Spackle. “Being ‘three apples tall’ [six to eight inches] means they’re the perfect height to get under vehicles and burrow up through the floorboards. I’ve had customers open their camper doors and be engulfed in waves of the things.”

Smurf colonies have been detected across the Midwest and Northeast—anywhere they can find sufficient mushrooms. The creatures establish parasitic connections upon them, wiping out entire species.

“Smurfs destroy ecosystems at the base” said Tremontane University mycologist Andrea Hohenstaufen. “They are an abomination, ancient and cruel. How I long to annihilate them.”

In their native Belgium, Smurfs numbers are kept in check by predators such as the Great Pannonian Gargamel. Here in the United States, there are none. Attempts at aerial spraying have proved ineffective, though fun.

“My dog bit one and it done stuck in his teeth like kneaded eraser,” said Dead Bird retired logistics analyst Burt Mackinaw. “The vet had to carve him a set of dentures from an old PVC pipe.”

Perhaps the worst deception was in “Peyo”’s depiction of Smurfette. While there is indeed a single queen Smurf in every colony, they do not wear lace dresses and speak in high-pitched voices. In reality, Smurfettes have been described as “nature’s buzzsaw.” Reliable witnesses describe a Smurfette killing and gutting a full-grown steer in less than ten minutes.

“Imagine!” said Dr Hohenstaufen. “Rendering venomous dewlap spurs as a pair of high-heeled shoes!”

Attempts to secure Federal action have run into persistent notions of Smurf cuteness.

“A bunch of us went down to Washington to see Congress, and all they could talk about was “Oh, the Smurfs! I loved that cartoon!” said Mrs. Milksnake. “Well, what happened at Larry’s Bar & Grill was no cartoon. Some of those folks came out looking like fried dough at the fair.”

The outlook for the future remains grim.

“If those things come back to Dead Bird,” said Mrs. Milksnake, “I’m gonna smurf me a shotgun and smurf my smurfin’ head off.”

Ihara Saikaku’s This Scheming World is a classic of Edojidai Japanese literature. The book is a series of vignettes, all centered around New Year’s Day. In Tokugawa-era Japan, New Year’s Day was the major occasion for settling debts, much as Michaelmas traditionally was in England. Every story shows chonin, the urban merchant class, scrimping for money, begging for money, scamming for money. Saikaku lightly shows how the need for cash overcomes all else, twists every aspect of human life, causes people to lie to themselves and each other.

Wait a second-a witty, urbane voice with a decidedly cynical viewpoint? That reminds me of a band!

This Scheming World
(to the tune of The Smiths’s ‘This Charming Man‘)

Empty moneysleeve
And my future’s desolate
Will fortune make me beg for rice yet?

Poor in this scheming world
This scheming world

How can I thrive
When silk costs so much per half

I would go out tonight
but I haven’t got a
mon to spare
My landlord
is outside
He’s intent on getting his share

A broke-ass chonin boy
With a valuable
He says “I’ll hock the strings”
It costs too much to buy my things
It costs too much to buy my things

My paternal grandfather insisted that the reason Massachusetts drivers were so terrible was that Massachusetts was the first state in the nation to require liability auto insurance. Grandpa said deep in the heart of every Massachusetts driver is the ancestral urge that, having been forced to pay for this insurance, they’re damn well going to use it.

It seems like I need to post something funny on this blog, to balance out certain recent posts. So I share this joke I heard from my oldest child recently. She got it from the Internet someplace. And it is:

“Welcome to this meeting of Plastic Surgery Anonymous! I am happy to see so many new faces.”

(I chuckled.)