The Desiccation of Wit

Monday, March 06, 2006

ten thousand spoons (B < PL)

You've all fallen down on the job. You are not spreading The Word. You are letting the terrorists win.

It occurs to us that perhaps you aren't spreading The Word because you are uncertain about how to employ it. Thus, in order to aid you in your mission, I bring you Lex's "Platshamic." To be sung to the tune of "Ironic," just without all of the grammatical errors.

It's when the friend you bring
the host has never met
asks when the baby's due
and she's not pregnant yet.

Isn't it platschamic? Don't you think?

It's when Joe's dealing cards
and Chris asks after Lynn,
and you shift in your seat
because Joe's single again

Isn't it platschamic? Don't you think?

It's watching your classmate
fail when he's called upon
(unless you don't like him,
then schadenfreude has won).

Isn't it platschamic? Don't you think?
A little too platschamic. And yeah, I really do think.


You have a duty (B). Spread the word, because the risk (PL) is very, very high. And if you do not do your duty, your very security is at stake.

1 Comments:

Blogger dw said...

And goddammit, people, comment to our blog! How the hell are we supposed to know how clever we are if you never tell us?

3:14 PM, March 06, 2006  

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