by Roger White
Fellow time/space voyagers and other occasional devotees of “This Old Blouse,” I am more tickled than a coffee can full of dung beetles to announce the return of my dear friend, back-porch expectorational master, and legendary raconteur of the obsequious and purulent, Sir Archie Ferndoodle (applause, applause, applause).
As I’m sure you remember, the esteemed Dr. Ferndoodle holds an associate’s degree in postmodern comparative limerick studies from the University of Southern Panama’s Correspondence College and has been featured five times in the American Anthology of Poetry. Just a few of his classics include “Oh, Staff Sergeant, My Staff Sergeant!,” “Why Is the Man Always from Nantucket?,” and possibly his greatest epic, “The Squirrels Stopped Talking to Me Today.”
Sir Archie has a rare treat for us in this installment. In his inimitable style, the Fernman has taken several classic tunes from the songbook of popular culture and rendered them as his own, with updated, shall we say, acerbic lyrics so pertinent to today’s manic milieu. Or something.
Disclaimer: The Spouseman—and the newspaper/periodical/bathroom wall compendium in which this diatribe appears—doesn’t necessarily agree with the views and opinions of Sir Archie. He is his own woman, and we bear no responsibility or legal burden for his espousings. So there.
With this heartfelt caveat (and sincere attempt to head off legal action), I give you Sir Archie’s renderings. By the way, it’s important to keep the tune of Archie’s specific song choice in your head for these to make any sense whatsoever. If that is, indeed, possible. So. Archie’s first offering is called “Ivanka in the White House”:
Ivanka in the White House
(to the tune of “Drive My Car” by The Beatles)
(verse 1)
“I asked my girl where she wanted to be,
In New York City or in D.C.,
She said Daddy, I wanna be near you,
In the White House with Jared the Jew.”
(chorus)
“Ivanka, you can have the West Wing,
We’ll set you up with all of your bling,
You can sell your furs and your rings,
And Dad will tweet for you.”
(verse 2)
“Barron’s got a floor to himself,
With a team of counselors for his mental health,
But Melania and I aren’t sharin’ a bed,
So you could move in with me instead.”
(chorus)
“Ivanka, you can have the West Wing,
Or you-know-where, I won’t say a thing,
Damn, it’s so good to be the king,
And Putin, I owe you.”
“Tweet, tweet n tweet, tweet, yeah!”
Um, ok. For his second favoring, the Fernman has rendered this ditty entitled “Perry in Charge”:
Perry in Charge
(to the tune of Tom Jones’ “She’s a Lady”)
(verse 1)
“Well, I’m the Energy Top Dude,
And now solar power’s screwed ’cause oil’s my cash cow,
Yeah, I ran for president,
I told Donald to get bent, but that’s all past now.”
(chorus)
“I’m Rick Perry, woah, woah, woah,
I’m Rick Perry,
Those rumors are false, ’cause I’m no fairy,
And I’m towin’ the Trump line.”
(verse 2)
“Well, I’m not sure what I do,
But I think I make the rules on nukular weapons,
But this can’t be as hard
As Dancing with the Stars, man, I was steppin’,”
(chorus)
“I’m Rick Perry, woah, woah, woah,
I’m Rick Perry,
Renewable power’s our adversary,
Let’s build that pipeline.”
And last, and surely least, Ferndude gives us “Lysergic Wood,” which he says is his ode to psychedelic substances:
Lysergic Wood, An Ode to LSD
(to the tune of The Beatles’ “Norwegian Wood”)
(verse 1)
“I once ate a squirrel,
Or should I say the squirrel ate me,
He showed me his brain,
We baked it into a nice quiche lorraine.”
(chorus)
“We smoked purple crayons,
As the walls melted into the sea,
Then Timothy Leary appeared
And said why’d you take three?”
(verse 2)
“I played canasta with Jesus,
His Holiness beat me two games out of threezus,
Then me and the squirrel flew to Mars,
But squirrel wasn’t squirrel, he was Pat Benatar.”
(chorus)
“We smoked purple crayons
As robots made love to the cow,
Then Hunter S. Thompson said man you’re in big trouble now.”
(verse 3)
“And when I awoke,
I was in a cell with a large man named Mel.
He kept pinching my ass,
Dear God from now on, I’m sticking with grass.”
Roger White Sir Archie Ferndoodle holds an associate’s degree in comparative limerick studies from the University of Southern Panama’s Correspondence College. Sir Archie’s classics include “Oh, Staff Sergeant, My Staff Sergeant!,” “Why Is the Man Always from Nantucket?,” and perhaps his greatest epic, “The Squirrels Stopped Talking to Me Today,” For further adventures, visit oldspouse.wordpress.com.
Bigly, Bigly Shakeups in My Own Personal White House
1 Augby Roger White
DATELINE—THE WHITE HOUSE(HOLD), AUSTIN, TEXAS
In another abrupt move that has apparently become the modus operandi of the White House (that being the house in which ersatz columnist/pseudo-blogger/psoriasis counselor Roger White and family reside), Second-String Dog and Assistant Canine Communications Director Boney Scarapoochy has resigned his position just days after being assigned to the post. Scarapoochy declined comment on the sudden departure; however, when asked about the situation within the White House, Scarapoochy said only, “Rough.”
This latest WH shakeup comes only days after White House Chief of Yardwork Staff Rieeince Amoebus and Kitchen Press Secretary Shawn Slicer resigned their
positions under what some observers are calling “unsettled circumstances.” Several reports indicate that since his exit Slicer has been seen on occasion smoking cigarettes and talking to buildings on the grounds of Shoal Creek Clinic.
The White House comings and goings of late follow a familiar pattern that began in January, when Acting Family Attorney Allie Yates was fired when she made it clear that she would not defend the Whites’ sweeping insulation ban. White had called for a total ban on all attic insulation from particular countries and announced plans to construct an enormous wall along the home’s southern property line to keep out raccoons, possums, field mice, coyotes, and progressive liberals. On the heels of Yates’ departure came the swift exit of Domestic Security Adviser Michael Phlegm in February. Phlegm was ousted when it became clear he had misrepresented his dealings with ambassadors from the rival Circle C neighborhood.
The White House revolving door of staff shakeups continued in May with the firing of James Klomey, the home’s director of the FBI (Flatulence, Belching, & Incontinence) and in July with the resignation of Wally Shrub, director of the family’s Office of Neighborhood Ethics. Shrub left soon after stating that the family’s home and reputation are “close to a laughingstock” compared to other domiciles with similar personality-addled heads of household.
Despite the rash of firings, resignations, departures, and refusals to accept ap
pointments to high-level positions within the WH, family adviser Smellyanne Blondeway insists that the home is being run like a well-oiled machine. “The home is being run like a well-oiled machine,” Blondeway said, unblinking and immobile while apparently reading from a script. When asked to elaborate, Blondeway added, “The home is being run like a well-oiled machine.”
First Lady Susan White did note that newly hired White House Handyman and Overall Fix-it Technician G. Gordon Tiddy was “doing a wonderful job maintaining the interweb connections and things.” She went on to comment that not only are the house’s computers running better than ever but that the “interwebs” connections are so finely tuned currently that all internet activity in homes within a two-block radius of the White House are available for viewing in the home, as well.
The White House’s Mr. White emphasized that there is absolutely no chaos within the home, as “the failing Oak Hill Gazette and other liberal rags claim in their fake news.” White went on to say, for no apparent reason, that “I know words. I have the best words.” He added that he does not attend family financial meetings because, “You know, I’m like a smart person.”
Roger White is without a doubt the most brilliant, most unbelievably fantastic person with the name of White in the history of everything. Bigly. For further adventures, visit oldspouse.wordpress.com. Or not.
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