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.
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
Subdi-fridge-ons
Clinging to the walls
Stinking beef meat balls
No way to be cast out
Subdi-fridge-ons
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Out of date sauce jars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
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.
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
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
Sub-decisions
Swiss, or mozzarell'?
This sub, I can tell
Will my hunger cast out
Sub-decisions
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
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...
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 ---
po-ta-toe!
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
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]
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!
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
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
SLOW AOL FREEZE
pardon while I snore
SLOW AOL FREEZE
sufing's become a chore
SLOW AOL FREEZE
I'm considering foul play
SLOW AOL FREEZE
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!
SLOW AOL FREEZE
I hate your tech support
SLOW AOL FREEZE
you cut my email short
SLOW AOL FREEZE
there go the second hands
SLOW AOL FREEZE
what is with all this spam???
SLOW AOL FREEZE
SLOW AOL FREEZE
I'll sue your ass in court
SLOW AOL FREEZE
This is the last resort
SLOW AOL FREEZE
I'll revenge myself some day
SLOW AOL FREEZE
You'll be exhibit A
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
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
economy
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!
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.
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