Sipsey Street Irregulars: And now for something completely different. . .

Saturday, March 27, 2010

And now for something completely different. . .

Words fail.

However, this is a song I taught my son and daughters when they were quite young:

Dead Skunk
by Loudon Wainright III

Crossin' the highway late last night
He shoulda looked left and he shoulda looked right
He didn't see the station wagon car
The skunk got squashed and there you are!

You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

Take a whiff on me, that ain't no rose!
Roll up yer window and hold yer nose
You don't have to look and you don't have to see
'Cause you can feel it in your olfactory

You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

Yeah you got yer dead cat and you got yer dead dog
On a moonlight night you got yer dead toad frog
Got yer dead rabbit and yer dead raccoon
The blood and the guts they're gonna make you swoon!
You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!

C'mon stink!

You got it!
It's dead, it's in the middle
Dead skunk in the middle!
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high heaven!
All over the road, technicolor man!
Oh, you got pollution
It's dead, it's in the middle
And it's stinkin' to high, high Heaven

10 comments:

Anonymous said...: LOL this made my day! I too was taught that song by my father!

One more reason not to drink...; March 27, 2010 at 1:25 PM
Anonymous said...: Always one of my favorites on Dr. Demento's show.; March 27, 2010 at 1:32 PM
Anonymous said...: HA HA -- I remember that song! When I was a little kid, back in the seventies, My brother-in-law would play it in 'Ol Blue (his 50's era ford pick-up)- We sang it all the time while driving around small town, Texas ... including while hunting cottontails in his pasture. Fun times...great memories!; March 27, 2010 at 2:23 PM
Fred Mangels said...: Except that's a possum, not a skunk.; March 27, 2010 at 2:32 PM
pdxr13 said...: That's a dead 'possum.

Possums are some of the toughest critters I have ever taken care of.

The pelts of late-winter possums are thick and warm when made into gloves.

There are some people who like to eat possums (even garbage-fed urban possums!). I just want them to not die in my crawlspace, bother the domestic cats, or eat the chickens.

Cheers.; March 27, 2010 at 2:37 PM
drdave said...: Every time I smell or see a skunk in the middle of the road, that song pops into my head. Never knew where I had heard it first, but probably was my dad, too.; March 27, 2010 at 2:49 PM
Spence said...: Well this is interesting. Apparently the Reid 'rent a mob" get "violent" go figure

http://www.foundingbloggers.com/wordpress/2010/03/harry-reid-supporters-threaten-violence-against-breitbart-at-tea-party-protest/; March 27, 2010 at 3:35 PM
Happy D said...: Always liked that song.; March 29, 2010 at 2:18 AM
Anonymous said...: Mike,
I guess with one dead & the other dead-drunk, the living one can't smell the dead one.
But *****!! I shudder! Now I gots'ta go wash out my mouth with soap or Listerine. . . . . (eaccchhh - pfft-pfft)

B Woodman
III-per; March 29, 2010 at 8:08 AM
Anonymous said...: "But this government of ours is a democracy." Correction - This government of ours is a Republic. There is a difference - look it up.

As for "attacking the Constitution".... the Obama Administration is doing the attacking. You follow their orders - you are attacking it as well.

You make me sick.

MelTX; March 31, 2010 at 6:09 AM

"Progress made under the shadow of the policeman's club is false progress."

I believe that liberty is the only genuinely valuable thing that men have invented, at least in the field of government, in a thousand years. I believe that it is better to be free than to be not free, even when the former is dangerous and the latter safe. I believe that the finest qualities of man can flourish only in free air – that progress made under the shadow of the policeman's club is false progress, and of no permanent value. I believe that any man who takes the liberty of another into his keeping is bound to become a tyrant, and that any man who yields up his liberty, in however slight the measure, is bound to become a slave. -- H.L. Mencken

"The Fate of Unborn Millions. . ."

"The time is now near at hand which must probably determine, whether Americans are to be, Freemen, or Slaves; whether they are to have any property they can call their own; whether their Houses, and Farms, are to be pillaged and destroyed, and they consigned to a State of Wretchedness from which no human efforts will probably deliver them. The fate of unborn Millions will now depend, under God, on the Courage and Conduct of this army-Our cruel and unrelenting Enemy leaves us no choice but a brave resistance, or the most abject submission; that is all we can expect-We have therefore to resolve to conquer or die." -- George Washington to his troops before the Battle of Long Island.

"We will not go gently . . ."

This is no small thing, to restore a republic after it has fallen into corruption. I have studied history for years and I cannot recall it ever happening. It may be that our task is impossible. Yet, if we do not try then how will we know it can't be done? And if we do not try, it most certainly won't be done. The Founders' Republic, and the larger war for western civilization, will be lost.

But I tell you this: We will not go gently into that bloody collectivist good night. Indeed, we will make with our defiance such a sound as ALL history from that day forward will be forced to note, even if they despise us in the writing of it.

And when we are gone, the scattered, free survivors hiding in the ruins of our once-great republic will sing of our deeds in forbidden songs, tending the flickering flame of individual liberty until it bursts forth again, as it must, generations later. We will live forever, like the Spartans at Thermopylae, in sacred memory.

-- Mike Vanderboegh, The Lessons of Mumbai:Death Cults, the "Socialism of Imbeciles" and Refusing to Submit, 1 December 2008

"A common language of resistance . . ."

"Colonial rebellions throughout the modern world have been acts of shared political imagination. Unless unhappy people develop the capacity to trust other unhappy people, protest remains a local affair easily silenced by traditional authority. Usually, however, a moment arrives when large numbers of men and women realize for the first time that they enjoy the support of strangers, ordinary people much like themselves who happen to live in distant places and whom under normal circumstances they would never meet. It is an intoxicating discovery. A common language of resistance suddenly opens to those who are most vulnerable to painful retribution the possibility of creating a new community. As the conviction of solidarity grows, parochial issues and aspirations merge imperceptibly with a compelling national agenda which only a short time before may have been the dream of only a few. For many Americans colonists this moment occurred late in the spring of 1774." -- T.H. Breen, The Marketplace of Revolution: How Consumer Politics Shaped American Independence, Oxford University Press, 2004, p.1.

Sipsey Street Irregulars

Saturday, March 27, 2010

And now for something completely different. . .

10 comments:

Blog Archive

Followers