Comic interpretations.

Subdi-fridge-ons  A comic take on Subdivisions. By Phaedrus and Matt

Presto  Homo-erotic version of Presto by rush_gay_pride

TV Sitcoms  Another Subdivisions Parody by Jonathan Schafer

Sub-Decisions  Another Subdivisions Parody by Mike Smith.

Some Liasons Another Subdivisions Parody (a rude one) by Dark.

Dan Quayle A Tom Sawyer Parody by emarie2112

The Enema Within  by Starless and Bible Black

Eggs Like France's  A Circumstances parody by emarie2112

Livinhell  Rivendell parody by Michael Lyons

Slow AOL  A Show don't Tell vesion by emarie2112

Between One and Two  by Michael Lyons

Cinderella Man  Not comedy, but an excellent version of this song, about Communism

Anti DT parody AMR Chatroomies unite against Dream Theater

Mystic Shitting  Qenny and his favourite subject again.

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Subdi-fridge-ons by Matt and Phaedrus.

Sprawling in the fridges of the city

A dark, dank place of slaughter

A moldy dark disorder

In between the sausage

And a small furry unknown

Growing mold it seems so uninviting

Gas masks aren't provided

Cleaning not decided

Deformed and self derided

In this mass destruction zone

Nowhere is the lettuce, or fresh carrots so alone


Clinging to the walls

Stinking beef meat balls

No way to be cast out


Living candy bars

Out of date sauce jars

Why can't it be cast out?

Any cleaner won't help to kill

The unattractive goo.

But a nuclear bomb will have to do

To clean your fridge for you.

The inside of your fridge, it isn't pretty,

A cockroaches attraction,

Oozing putrefaction

My food attracts the local flies

Just to drink 6 month old sprite

Some will eat cold pizza, not from my fridge,

Now cheese will hunts the rats

Amidst the stinking crap

Now eggs turn into chickens

And begin their endless flight

Somewhere far from the memory of this blighted fridge with it's broken light

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Presto by rush_gay_pride   (a troll if ever there was one)

I am made for the fun of gay bars,

and a craving flows in my veins.

Here I hide in the heart of the city,

Asking "is my coming out in vain"

The evening comes, I rise up from the barstool,

Over to a guy on my right,

I buy him a beer, then a few more rounds,

And I ask him where he's sleeping tonight.

I'm not one to believe in magic,

But I believe in gay love at first sight.

I'm not one to go wearing my high heels,

When my preference changes overnight.

I had a dream of a man in leather,

a midnight rendezvous

Huddled and sweaty in the public toilets,

what a fool I was for you.

I had a dream of an open zipper,

I was reaching down for a peek,

So shocked when I reached the bottom,

It was so long it went into next week

If I could wave my magic wand,

I'd come out of the closet free.

I'm not one to go singing old show-tunes,

In a blond wig and a pair of tights,

But I am one to go probing with fingers,

When you come and turn off all the lights.

Don't ask me,

I'm just socializing,

in the corridors of my gay pride.

Can't you see my temperature's rising

Every time you stroke both my thighs

Don't ask me,

I'm just realizing,

My illusions of being straight

Can't you see that my gay pride is rising,

I can't turn back now, it's far too late.

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TV Sitcoms by Jonathan Schafer (sung to Subdivisions)

TV Sitcoms

They sprawl on the wasteland

Known as television

Laugh-tracks must be added

Because the jokes are so bad

Seinfeld's gone I'm so mad

Now I'm left with 10 Friends clones

Growing up it really wasn't better

Happy Days gave me gas

Which I could never pass

Because Laverne and Shirley made

Me pucker up my ass

No safe place to hide-out

From the gas that I amassed

(TV Sitcoms)

Where has Seinfeld gone

Becker is just wrong

Jesse's on so I pass out

(TV Sitcoms)

Flying Circus rules

The Single Guy just blew

I'm going insane there is no doubt

Nowhere to run I can't escape

The god awful truth

That these sitcoms are as boring as

Working in a toll booth

Producers bring out retreads like Ted Danson

But Cheers was a hit so long ago

What they're thinking I don't know

I only wish that he would go

To the far unlit unknown

Freeks and Geeks is on I took a chance

Now I need an ambulance

It only took a glance

Will someone please Just Shoot Me quick

And end this misery

When are the Three Stooges on

But if it's one with Shemp begone

(TV Sitcoms)

Where has Seinfeld gone

Becker is just wrong

Jesse's on so I pass out

(TV Sitcoms)

Flying Circus rules

The Single Guy just blew

I'm going insane there is no doubt

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Sub-Decisions by Mike Smith

Sprawling on the local deli counter

Some roast beef and pastrami

Proscuitto and salami

A cappicola, and me

Still deciding what to eat

Growing up, we all remember eating

Some Subway, or some Blimpie

But those are kind of skimpy

To get a real good hero you must

Stay away from chains

Local shops are better

The franchises are too plain


Swiss, or mozzarell'?

This sub, I can tell

Will my hunger cast out


Peppers sweet, or hot?

Either way, a lot

To make my ass blast out

Some mayonnaise might help to smooth

Those peppers, it's the truth

But the onions must be raw to soothe

The restless tastes of youth

Drawn like moths, we drift into the deli

A big hunger reaction

To score some sandwich action

Hoagies, subs and grinders fly

Into hungry gaping maws

Well, some will sell their kidneys for a cheese-steak

Or lose their place in line

And, hungry, start to cry

And stop to dream of heroes past

With baked ham and Swiss cheese

Turkey, salt, and mayonnaise

A real treat, worty of praise

Repeat chorus

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Some Liasons.   A rude one by Dark.

Sprawled out on the edges of the bedroom

In geocentric order

With insulated borders

Hiding from the bright lights

In the far unlit unknown

Growing now it all seems so one-sided

Errections all provided

His future pre-decided

Pleasured and multiplying

In a mass orgasmic zone

Nowhere is the reamer

Or the mescal so adored

Some Liaisons -

Within the bedroom walls

Outside the shopping malls

Perform of be cast out

Some Liaisons -

On the basement bars

In the backs of cars

No fools are without

All my efforts might help remove

Those interfering clothes

But the suburbs have no stores to soothe

The restless needs of youth

Run like mobs deep into the city

With condoms and attraction

Cruising for the action

Straight up like the fireman

Just to feel the living thigh

I will pay with dreams of great desires

To see the men perform

And hope that none inform

The cops who dream of somewhere

To relax their straining might

Somewhere out of a memory

Of darkened streets with sordid nights...

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Dan Quayle (to the tune of Tom Sawyer) by Ellen (emarie2112)

A syntax destroyer

lean lean mind

Today's Dan Quayle

keen keen guy?

Though his mind is so vacant

and he's probably impotent

His reserve, a fruitless defense

Trying to figure out the day's events ---


What do you say about his policy?

What would it do to our society?

--- Catch the nonsense--- It's not a myth

--- Catch the clueless--- a mind adrift

The world would the world would

be a stinking heap

if indeed George Bush had died.

Today's Dan Quayle

Is without a clue

and the space he invades

as an astronaut is too.

<during guitar solo, a recording of Dan's speech to Nasa is in background,

"Welcome to President Bush, Mrs. Bush, and my fellow astronauts.">

Yes, his mind so vacant

and his eyes are on government

Always hopeful, yet incompetent

He wanted to be the president ---

Glad he quit!

What do you say about his policy?

What would it do to our society?

--- Catch the witless --- Lack of wit

--- Catch the clueless --- full of s***

The world would the world would

be a stinking heap

if indeed George Bush had died

Exit to hell

Today's Dan Quayle

He gets by on fumes

but with the friends he's made

he'll get right on to

the policies of the day

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The Enema Within by Starless and Bible Black

[Note: The end of every second measure should be punctuated with a toilet flush

sound effect]

Beans crawl in my bowels

3 day old potato skins

Puckerings of the rectum

The fruit of gastro-intestinal sins

Pounding on the bathroom door

"For the love of God please let me in!"

Every muscle tensed

To fence

the brown enemy within

I'm not giving in

To hershey squirts under pressure

I'm not holding out

It's a ba-ba-booey adventure

I'm not giving up

My pepperoni dreams

Stain removal to extremes

And the rush of chocolate steams.....

Suspicious looking taco

Restaurant owner hides a knowing grin

Burning sensation in your bowels

Will you do more than break wind?

Every breath a beef laden fart

Like 3 week old pudding skin

Steely eyed outside to hide

The fact that you just lost

to the brown enemy within.

To you- is it movement or an imagined reaction

You know that BMs give ultimate satisfaction

And you- constipation or just sphincter resistance?

Is it moving or just Tyree's existence?

Yeah you, it takes a little more bowel persistence

To not let it run down that leg distance......

[Note: each line in that last stanza to be punctuated with nasty sound FX]

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Eggs Like France's (to the tune of Circumstances) by Ellen (emarie2112)

An egg alone, I must condone

and the scrambled thing is so overblown

The choice of eggs that one consumes

is easier than one presumes.

For the egg and cheese infusion

In the lovely omelette union

The appearance of this dish from France

Makes me want to dance with glee!

Always the same

Why take the chances?

all of the time

I want eggs like France's!

J'aime manger

omelette de fromage

On my kitchen range

I'll always make the same.

Now I've gained some understanding

Of other ways to make these

Onions, peppers and mushrooms

Can be used instead of cheese

Still the taste that overwhelms me

and the only one to please

Eggs and cheese with nothing more

Is the only way to make eggies!

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Livinhell by Michael Lyons.

Sunlight scorches all the leaves

No wind stirs the dying trees

Walk in ultraviolet -

Feel the burn upon your face

Elvis' thongs and boogie nights

A mime and Posh, and Scary Spice

Time has up and left you

In this godforsaken place

I've traveled now through many ruts

To kick Zac Hanson in the nuts

And steal his prized possession -

His only five Pokemon cards

Between the golden arches every mile

And the bypass and the plastic smile

We'll beckon a new season

And a change of pace

You hear there's something calling you -

You're wanting to return

To Geddy's jamming basslines

And Alex's chops that burn

A sound that helps escape the world

Where Ricky's never heard

Brittany's just a sparkle and

The Backstreet Boys're absurd

You feel the coming of a new day

And hope for a bone to be rolled your way

But time must do some healing

Then he'll come out, come out and play

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"SLOW AOL" (to the tune of SHOW DON'T TELL) By Ellen (emarie2112)

I've been putting up with this bulls**t

it goes on all day long

every time I try anything

this network does me wrong

Sign on later

I'm sure Steve Case would believe

that AOL is safe

from people leaving (along with their friends)

leaving AOL to it's fate

Catch you later

Slow AOL


pardon while I snore


sufing's become a chore


I'm considering foul play


You can take you new additions

and turn them into fudge

You can praise your standards

I will be the judge

and the jury

If we had an online election

what would be your defense?

Giving subscribers direction?

Based on what evidence?

Hear my fury!


I hate your tech support


you cut my email short


there go the second hands


what is with all this spam???



I'll sue your ass in court


This is the last resort


I'll revenge myself some day


You'll be exhibit A

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Between One and Two by Michael Lyons

There is a space between one and two

That far too many know about

In the pool between dribble and spout

The place that is wonder and doubt

This is a fine place

Lip-smacking face to face

Those dimly lit bulbs

In the recess of thought

A meaningful word

That's so long after sought

oh no to no oh no to no

after one what's after one

There is a fine line between wit and illusion

A place to investigate

The gulf between quality and crap

The time between button and flap

This is a fine place

Cackling face to face

Those dimly lit bulbs

In the recess of thought

The point between

Shouldn't and ought

Some need to pray to the god of cartoons

Need to swim with the midsummer loons

Unwittingly capsized in a puddle of waste

They just take a dive in the quicksand of haste

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Cinderella Man by Giovanni

Although this one is not Comic, it deserved a place on the website.

A morbid man from Moscow

had no ounce of pity

he had a need to discover

a use for his newly found creed

because he was russian

because he was ruthless

because he was Stalin

they called him the boss.

delusions of grandeur

no visions, no splendour

mad and oppresive

we'd call him insane

cells were open

intellect was eloping

many died untimely

communistic man

surviving if you can

I don't understand

what you did

communistic man

and your 5 year plans


went down the drain that way

in the late eighties you awakened

to face a lot of harsh realities

and a look in the eyes of Gorbatchov

awakened you to what you could do

you shrugged off the party

you let eastern europe go

purpose full notions

when once so insane

but now it's the future

what are you gonna do

no longer depressive

I hope you will gain

ex-communist man

doing what you can

I hope you understand

what it means

freedom in the land

paradise at hand

try with all your might

to fulfill your dreams, do it right!

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Anti-Dream Theater Parody.

Sung to "Spirit of Radio"

Written in the AMR chatroom by...

Paul, Jon Schafer, Roxanna and Matt

with moral support from LIW and Limbo

Begin the day with a Pro-Plus tab

obsfucation so obstrusive

play that song that's convoluted

too many notes just destroys all the groove

Up on the drums you've got Mike Portnoy

So damned mech-a-nic-al

Snare, hi-hat abd double bass,

must fit them all into this little space

Apreggio chord strums, crackling tube amps,

High pitched vocals, wants to be like Geddy Lee

Unemotional feedback OTT axe solos

Rip off 6 notes when you should have stuck to 3

We try to be Rush when we're making our music

then we add 10 more notes

Our music sheets aren't charted

It's really just a question of philosophy, yeah, pholosophy

We like to believe that we know what we're doing

but 20 minute songs and endless compositions

shatter the illusion of a Rush copy

And the words of the prophets were

written so that they didn't quite fit on the line

he sang it fine

But it echoes with the sound...

Of crazed men

..of crazed men.

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Mystic Shitting     by Qenny

So many things I think about

When I sit on the john

Things I ate

Things I shat out

Tasty food that's gone

The more I think I want to eat

The more I want to shit

I passed so many solids

My arse feels like it's split

Mystic shitting

In my colon, and passing through my bowels

Unnatural, for shit to sound like vowels

Mystic shitting

In a public loo, or the privacy of home

I love to shit no matter where I may roam

I sometimes eat a curry

Which turns my arse to mush

(Here's the required mention)

I have an anal RUSH

More poo than I dreamed about

Unseen but bad of smell

Use the toilet after me

And catch a scent of hell

Mystic Shitting

Pass through my cheeks, and plop into the bowl

Sometimes it's green, and sometimes black as coal

Mystic Shitting

With tomato skins, and a smattering of corn

My bowels open and I feel like I'm reborn

Mystic Shitting

Shoot like a train, at amazing speed

Won't apologise for a basic human need

Mystic Shitting

Braced across the bowl

Like a big boomerang

Take a deep breath and feel the fruity tang

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