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Description
it's Pretty out There

"Twiddle Twaddle with a Cat
Cows do blunder in their fat
Suppertime's when we get high
Licking juices from my thigh
Twiddle Twaddle with a Cat
Cows do blunder in their fat"
"Grandpa!" screams the ignorant CHILD. "That's not how the song goes!"
"Don't Give me any of that malarky you ungreatful curr! You want me to go get my beatin' spoon boy? and bring it upside your sticky face? miserable little toad!"
the CHILD sticks his tongue out at the old MAN. the old MAN chooses not to notice: "If you want all that prattle about stars and their blasted location go to the goddanged observatory! i sing about what i know and twiddletwaddling cats is what i know! You can't just make like you know something and sing about it! That's how demons are released, and nary a soul who could put down something he brought up!" the old MAN burps. "Demons and other nasties await'n you my child if you continue to sing those heretical songs!"
the CHILD has never really considered this possibility before.
"Moral is: Sing only what your heart tells ya, little one. Words are mighty powerful magick." the old MAN tucks the CHILD into the bed and leaves. the CHILD decides to stick to humming as he drifts off to another place. maybe there's a star or two waiting.
or a fat cow...

Description
it's Pretty out There

"Twiddle Twaddle with a Cat
Cows do blunder in their fat
Suppertime's when we get high
Licking juices from my thigh
Twiddle Twaddle with a Cat
Cows do blunder in their fat"
"Grandpa!" screams the ignorant CHILD. "That's not how the song goes!"
"Don't Give me any of that malarky you ungreatful curr! You want me to go get my beatin' spoon boy? and bring it upside your sticky face? miserable little toad!"
the CHILD sticks his tongue out at the old MAN. the old MAN chooses not to notice: "If you want all that prattle about stars and their blasted location go to the goddanged observatory! i sing about what i know and twiddletwaddling cats is what i know! You can't just make like you know something and sing about it! That's how demons are released, and nary a soul who could put down something he brought up!" the old MAN burps. "Demons and other nasties await'n you my child if you continue to sing those heretical songs!"
the CHILD has never really considered this possibility before.
"Moral is: Sing only what your heart tells ya, little one. Words are mighty powerful magick." the old MAN tucks the CHILD into the bed and leaves. the CHILD decides to stick to humming as he drifts off to another place. maybe there's a star or two waiting.
or a fat cow...