Dear Adoring Public,
Let's face it: Regular nursery rhymes are lame (just like my blonde typist--ha-ha!). They don't reference my life in any way. So I ask you: What's the point? (Note: That is a rhetorical question. Don't bother answering. Your response is as unnecessary as it is unneeded.) As usual, it is up to moi, Your Benevolent and Brilliant Ruler, to right this societal wrong. As a true Renaissance Royal, I have dabbled in poetry over the years, yet, because I am so humble and unassuming, I have never published under my own name. Until now, obviously.
Hey Diddle Diddle
Hey diddle diddle
Cats don't play fiddles.
The Clara jumped over the moon
But she's fat so she crashed
And the moon--it was smashed
And the world laughed at that buffoon.
--The True Nursery Rhymes, by Queen Nora
P.S. OMG. I am so horrified. Apparently a GOOSE is responsible for writing these rhymes!! A. Freaking. GOOSE!! Geese are mean and smelly and disgusting, and hang out in the WATER. That right there is a statement of their stupidity and irrelevance. They are not precious and cute and cuddly like kitty cats.
Private to M.G.: Calling yourself "Mother" does not, in any way, make you more appealing. Ever heard of Joan Crawford? RENOUNCE YOUR STORYTELLING PLATFORM AT ONCE, GOOSE, OR I SHALL BE FORCED TO TAKE SWIFT AND FAST ACTION TO BEHEAD AND/OR DECAPITATE YOU!
Fairbanks got into his head that he was going to pounce on a goose once. He hunkered down in the grass, chose the appropriate moment, and ran at the goose at top speed. The goose hissed and flapped its wings, and Fairbanks came to a screeching halt, scrambled backwards, turned, and raced back to the safety of the patio. He has never shown any interest in geese since.
ReplyDeleteHe still likes smaller birds, though.