Phillipe

*shimmy, shake*

WDED interrupts your regular programming during this commercial-free Halloween season marathon to present, by popular request, the stunning and thought-provoking classic tale by the good Doctor himself and his considerations about how he wants to die... That's DIE, as in DEATH, DIE, CHECK OUT, MORTE, SNUFF IT.... ...ahem...sorry...we here at WDED get excited about Death this time of year...BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! COMMERCIAL-FREE UNTIL NOVEMBER 1st!!! And now, without further interruption... ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ Dr. Seuss Considers His Death Everyone dies, so they say, without fail I just cannot wait to go beyond that vale My eyes will not see and my nose will not sniff When my poor old body is all cold and stiff By jumping off mountains or laying on track Overdosing on some Heroin or some Crack Insulting a guy far, far bigger than me Carry lead weights in my pockets at sea Take some prescriptions with gallons of booze That’ll make sure I don’t wake from my snooze Touch some high voltage – 440 or so - That’ll give me that oh-so-healthy glow Driving my car in the wrong lane at night Enter a biker bar and start a fight Hurl racial slurs in the ghetto by day Borrow from shylocks, then refuse to pay Ignoring the warning signs of a weak heart “Horrible chest pains? I just need to fart!” Dance in the midst of the Daytona race Put arsenic make-up all over my face Fall on my sword, hang myself from a beam, Should I go out with a whimper or scream? Listen to music so loud my ears burst Choke on a huge piece of warm liverwurst Fall down the shaft of an old elevator Offer my throat to a wild alligator Get shot by bullets, whether small or large Tie myself up to the front of a barge Jump off a bridge into waters so deep Stand in the road and get hit by a Jeep Fall from the Empire State Building’s top Pull a toy gun on a frustrated cop Don’t forget illness – I hope I get sick A nice dose of bubonic plague is the trick Or maybe something that would remove my smile Like fever I get from the African Nile Eat some old blowfish not cooked the right way Lie under elephants as they do sway Smack a big Rottie smack dab in his face Time to check out from this poor human race Now I lay down as the sun mounts the sky Time to retire, get off-stage and die No one will miss me, I’m quite sure of that Hey! Maybe I’ll go like that Cat in the Hat!

WDED - commercial-free through the Halloween season! *in Casey Kasem voice* This is a request that goes out to "Snuggles" in Kiss-and-Tell, Idaho, whose boyfriend had just left her last week after discovering she was in love with a Furby. Snuggles, keep on fighting the good fight and happiness will soon be at your side. But until then, have a listen to Universal Lite Beer Factory and their mega-huge-jumbo smash hit-a-roonee of 1934... ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Hotel ULC (sung to the tune of Hotel California - all apologies to The Eagles) On the Internet Highway, salt breeze found my hair Bad smell of religion, rising up through the air Up ahead in the distance, I saw a ULC site My fingers itched to write some funny stuff Instead of sleeping at night Murphy stood in the doorway; As stories Wilbur tells; And Dorian's thinking to himself, "My head is whirling and this could be Hell" Then Claire lit a candle and she showed me the way There were voices in the Admin room, I thought I heard them say... "Welcome to the Hotel ULC Such a loony place Such a funny place Plenty of room at the Hotel ULC Any time of year, you can find us here" Meredog's definitely twisted, at least the mail that he sends Elphaba's got some pretty toys, that she calls "friends" How they dance in the Forum, some perspire, some sweat Some dance without partners, some are just there to fret So I came to the Forum And I started my whine I said, "I haven't seen such weirdness here...since I met Divine!" And still those flame wars are calling from far away Writing parodies all through the night That's when I hear them say... "Welcome to the Hotel ULC Such a loony place Such a funny place We're livin' it up at the Hotel ULC Look up to the skies - bring your alibis Ed Crain's on the ceiling And Theresa could melt ice And I said, "This is all just fantasy here, but the words sure sound nice" And in the Off Topic Area They gathered for the feast They stroke it with their steely words And it rises just like yeast Last thing I remember, I was Typing on the floor I had to find the hot-link back To the thread I was before "Relax", said the Admin "There's no Communion to receive, You can logout any time you like, But you can never leave!"

And now WDED presents a sad, yet curiously satisfying tale of a how long-haired, motorcycle-riding hippy freak meets his end on a lonely highway... Happy Halloween Season, from all of us here at WDED! Remember - the commercial-free pumpkins are the reason for the season! __________________________________________________________________________________________ Release of the Renegade Renegade on the two-lane road, his hair loose in the wind Had left the small town late last night, right after he had sinned The moon above so full and blue, his leathers soft and warm He headed out of Hell that day into the welcome storm The storm he rode to had no rain, nor wind nor driving sleet It was a storm he’d weather soon, and in the end defeat For while the skies above him now were clear and full of stars He knew that soon that harvest moon would shine upon fresh scars He’d had his fill of pleasures ill, of drunken gropes and bar fights He’d seen the country on two wheels, by sunshine and neon lights For while he’d known many a girl and fought many a man He’d also known his time had flown, solely through his own hand So as he roared on down the lanes his mind was free and clear He’d known the pain of loneliness, the ecstasy of fear He’d shared embraces on the beach, got stoned and fought his fight He knew that what he witnessed now would be his last full night So living in the moment, as his kind is wont to do, He searched for his immortal soul, a path that would prove true But emptiness confronted him at each and every turn That’s when he knew his life was run, his soul would ever burn Whatever he did now would prove to be his final act He’d gone beyond hypothesis; he dealt now just in fact He saw no future down that strip of coiling quick-patched tar And as he looked within himself, he missed that wayward car Somewhere out in the desert where coyotes howl and play There drifts a soul so marred and old, but happy, in its way Release was won that fateful night through grace of Heaven’s hand His spirit soared above the moon while flesh lay in the sand

WDED digs deeeeeep into our classics vault and pulls out this vintage Fubert and the Man-Apes single about a man who is seriously depressed at Halloween, that most wondrous time of year, and how the solution to his problem suddenly appears... ...but not in the way he might have expected...bwahahahahahahahahahaha! Commercial-free until November 1st! Turn on, tune in and zone out! WDED - we're DED! ______________________________________________________________________ Return of the Baboon All lonely was I in my cramped little room Hearing voices of pain, depression, and gloom A knock on the door seemed to spell out my doom That’s when I witnessed the return of the baboon He entered my cell with a bounce and a grin I hollered, “Who the hell let YOU in?!?” Ignoring my question, he bounced off the bed And put three bananas on top of my head He then did a gainer onto my wood floor He made a weird sound – partly scream, partly snore Then he climbed up the curtains and tumbled with glee And ended up directly in front of me I knew this baboon from my past glory times He helped when I got stuck creating my rhymes A practical joker, the life of the room That’s what I now faced in this silly baboon He pulled a small tic from his yellow-brown fur Then begged for some food like a starving old cur He told me some jokes and did some pantomime No one could accuse him of being sublime He put his back legs into my pair of boots Then ate some bananas and let out some toots Just when I had thought he was acting too nice He went and drank my last bottle of Old Spice He burped and he laughed and he twirled in the air (That’s just like a baboon – he hasn’t a care) He showed me some pictures – what bad baboon smut! – Then circled behind me and chomped on my butt I finally got him to stop running ‘round And trapped that baboon with my arms on the ground At first he just struggled and flailed and hissed Then he puffed out his lips and he gave me a kiss Oh, somewhere a kitty is sleeping all sound And somewhere a puppy is saved from the pound They give their folks happiness, love, and friendship But me? I have baboon spit on my top lip!

Commercial-free until Halloween! No commercials at all! None! Nothing that would make you run away screaming in horror... ...well...not from the commercials, anyway... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Here's Phillipus and the Yard-Arms with their mega-Platinum hit about the man with no tongue... _______________________________________________________________________________ The Silent Sentinel He stood on the Aged oaken deck, Seagulls his only company For what had been taken, At such a great cost, Was ne’er given over for free He’d fought and he’d sang As he traveled the world, Brought children into this bleak sphere But after a while He had lost his great smile To a circumstance verily queer He’d never refrained From speaking his mind, A bon mot, or witty reply So what had occurred had Surpassed his best word As if he had been fixin’ to die His tongue had been silenced By ruffians many, His syllables cut off at birth The silence was thun’drous, Though his mind were won’drous, His words were indeed at a dearth His words, once so free, Had gained shackles at sea, All due to that horrible night And tho’ some may say That it’s better that way, It still is a wrong, not a right So now he stays dumb, Waiting for what will come, As the world goes about its foul ways His life is a shell, A sure-thing living Hell, As he sits and waits for his last days Phillipus Louigious Bellafontaine Copyright 2005 All rights reserved

Continuing with all the greatest hits, all the time, here's Count Von SeeFoo and the Horrorettes with... A REAL Bedtime Story Care Bears cavorting neath' bright morning sun Kitties and puppies all having their fun Flowers do sway to the music so nice Courtesy of the twelve fiddling mice Curtsy and bow as the dancers all do Trip the fantastic - a new waltz or two Rainbows appear in the cloudless blue sky Lions and lambs all together do lie "Thank you" and "Please" are the words of the day No one need tussle to get their own way Lollipops grow on the branches of trees When the snow falls, we seem never to freeze Every day's bright with its magical fill Everyone's healthy, no one can get ill Women are gorgeous, the men are all sleek Seven days loafing makes up our work week (*looks around...*) ...I think the youngsters have been lulled to sleep... Suddenly Hell came to rule once again Bringing back sorrow and worry and pain Eating the puppies and slaying the cats Throwing Care Bears into bubbling vats Stomping on flowers and poisoning mice Using the bones of the dancers as dice Polluting the rainbow and darkening sky Slaying the lions and lambs as they lie "No, Master, NO!!!" are the words that we love There'll be no salvation from Heaven above Lollipops sodden with toxic decays Snowflakes are plague-filled, just like the old days! Eternal darkness is what we do see I can't save you and you cannot save me Women are demons, the men are much worse Our work week is endless, our Satanic curse (*Oops - the kids are waking up...*) And so did the children live out their glad days Exploring the world and its wondrous ways It's lunch time, I think - have a hot dog or two You really love me, and I truly love you! Good night, boys and girls... ...wherever you are...

This is another Halloween blast from the past that we here at WDED are playing while our host Phildrich is traveling in Romania. Enjoy! __________________________________________________________________________________________ Dr. Seuss Gets Horror-ble One fish, two fish Live fish, dead fish I will not touch that severed hand I will not touch it, Sam-I-Am! The Cat in the Hat was soon boiled in the vat Hop on Pop until he drops! ____________________________________________ The Monster’s New Ball Was a regal affair So Mrs. Frankenstein Did up her tall hair And Frankie himself, That collection of parts, Was pegged to be host Of this Fair of Dead Arts Now Drac in the basement Was shining his fangs While Werewolf was upstairs Combing out his bangs The Creature, that guy who Lives in the lagoon Was practicing speeches To light up the room The Phantom was there With Christine at his side But the Terror of London Was out for a ride The Mummy was rapping And Jekyll was quiet His true alter ego, Hyde, started a riot Now these were the big names From Hollywood past Their murders and tortures Through all time would last But then came the new crop Of crazy nutcases, Of mass-murder players With gore-dripping faces Ol’ Freddie the Krueger That psycho supreme And Pin Head, that guy Who appears in your dream Now Jason hung out At the bar now and then While Dr. Lechter Had a snack in the den They all got together To talk of their jobs To tell of their victims And laugh at their sobs The party, it lasted ‘Til quarter to four That’s when Frankie saw them all Out the front door As they all went home In their custom-made hearses And muttered vile oaths And then laughed at their curses The Bride of Frankie Put her hand ‘round his waist “What about the kids, dear? Should I fry, boil, or baste?”

This is a welcome I wrote for a friend of mine who used the screen-name "Ghastly" when he joined the Pyrate forum I was in. He's a dedicated horror and monster fan, so I thought this appropriate to the Halloween "season". Enjoy! A Ghastly Welcome From a graveyard fairly foggy With a shrouded point of view With a shot of formaldehyde And a piercing shriek or two From the gallows on the sidebar And the chat room and the threads From the vampire-like poets And the shrunken native heads From the guillotine a-choppin’ And the rack a-stretchin’ wide To the hearse out in the driveway Waiting for your final ride Comes a ghastly welcome to you To this undead Pyrate Pub Now for the initiation - Christine – get the studded club! Hands will tear and rip your clothing Flesh will melt away from bone When your organs are all bleeding We sure hope you’ll call this home!

That's what all the girls say... Awww... But if he entered a race, he'd be dead last. *puts finger in mouth, looks up under eyelashes, digs toe into dirt*

Where? Where??? Oh... Thank you.

WARNING: For those with a squeamish constitution, you might want to skip this song parody as it makes reference to deceased people and unholy actions. It is meant only as entertainment during my favorite holiday of the year. For the rest of you, enjoy! "Necromancer" (sung to the tune of "Private Dancer" - apologies to the great Tina Turner) Well there's dead men in these places And the women are the same They don't have any faces And most of them, half a brain You can see they aren't human You can't stand their awful smell You keep your mind on the ritual So you don't end up in Hell [CHORUS] I'm a necromancer I raise dead for money They'll do what I tell them to do I'm a necromancer I raise dead for money And sometimes a demon or two I want to make a couple dollars I want to live near a cemetery Have a couple dozen demons In my unholy family All the dead men in these places And the women – "Ugh!" you say You can't look at their faces Decomposed and turning gray [CHORUS TWICE] Coffins of squalor A white burial dress will do nicely, thank you Let me loosen your shroud collar Tell me – do you want to see your Uncle Jimmy again? [CHORUS]

Yee-yeah! I'll get some eye hooks, rope and black paint...

Meh - not one of my better efforts, but thank you just the same.

My goal in life: to bring comfort to as many ladies as possible. Glad to oblige, my lady

Naw - having an audience is fun, and there's always the possibility we might get Home Depot gift cards as tips.

Ya know, I leave you two alone for a while, thinking "Oh, they'll do the female bonding thing", and what do I find when I come back??? Two gorgeous women who think I'm hot, now what am I supposed to do with ... ...umm...what am I.... *groan*

Yeah! Congratulations, sweetie!

Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!

Yes, Mis...um...dear.

New England Style Clam (Sung to the tune of "Good Lovin' Gone Bad" by Bad Comapny) If I hear you swimming 'cross the ocean floor Ain't no way that I'm gonna float to you. 'Cos swimming is a-one thing and floating is another And when I say it's over, that's it, I'm gonna squirt! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Now I ain't complaining, just tryin' to understand What makes a starfish do the things she does. One day she'll latch onto you, the next day she'll leave you Why can't we have it, just me, you and the sea? Why can't we have it baby? 'Cos I'm a clam, I got my pride Don't need no starfish attached to my side I need a mollusk, like any other; yeah So go on and leave me, leave me for a grouper! New England Style Clam, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah New England Style Clam, Clam, Clam New England Style Clam; yeah Baby I'm a bad clam, now, now Oh yes, yes indeed, indeed I am Oh oh oh oh yeah, gone bad. Oh oh oh oh. Now I'm a clam, I got my pride Don't need no starfish floating by my side I need a cove like any other 'cause I've got a couple thousand little sisters and brothers. New England Style Clam, it's gone I say New England Style Clam, now now now New England Style Clam, yeah yeah yeah And baby I'm a bivalve New England Style Clam That's what I want to say, Good covin' clam, good covin' New England Style Clam, Oh, baby I'm a bad clam New England Style Clam, New England Style Clam New England Style Clam, I'm a sad clam, Don't stand in my way 'Cause baby I'm a bad clam, Yeah, yeah, yeah.......

That's OK - I know the way by now...

Q, you know I'm just kidding around. I hope.

Stop! ...well, for a little while, anyway...

Despite any possible appearances, it really doesn't take all that long. This one, a little longer than usual, granted, but still well under 10 minutes. The usual process is that as I go about my daily chores, a song will either be playing on a radio or will just pop into my head for whatever reason. I then start playing with it, coming up with themes and possible word substitutions. By the time I sit down and commit it to electronic paper, it's already pretty much formed. Depending upon my mood and/or available time, I might tweak it a bit, but I'm not really swinging for the fence with these - just playing on the local sandlot.