Saint Karl, I beseech thee to grant me the strength to smite the enemies of Socialism and the Proletarian Struggle, and to bring the Revolution to The Worker's Paradise of the People's Democratic Republic of America.
O Thou that in the Heavens does dwell, Wha, as it pleases best Thysel, Sends wan tae Heaven, an ten tae Hell, A' for Thy glory, And no for onie guid or ill They've done afore Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might, When thousands Thou has left in night, That I am here before Thy sight, For gifts an grace A burning and a shining light To a' this place.
What was I, or my generation, That I should get sic exaltation? I, wha deserv'd most just damnation For broken laws, Sax thousand years ere my creation, Thro Adam's cause!
When from my mither's womb I fell, Thou might hae plung'd me deep in Hell, Tae gnash my gooms, and weep and wail, In burning lakes, Whaur damned devils roar and yell, Chain'd tae their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample, Tae show Thy grace is great and ample: I'm here a pillar o Thy temple, Strong as a rock, A guide, a buckler, and example, Tae a' Thy flock!
But yet, O Lord! confess I must, At times I'm fash'd wi fleshy lust; An sometimes, tae, in warldly trust, Vile self gets in; But Thou remembers we are dust, Defil'd wi sin.
O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi Meg Thy pardon I sincerely beg O, may't ne'er be a livin plague Tae my dishonour! An I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg Again upon her.
Besides, I farther maun avow, Wi Leezie's lass, three times I trow But, Lord, that Friday I was fou, When I cam near her, Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true Wad never steer her.
Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn, Lest he owre proud and high should turn, That he's sae gifted: If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne, Until Thou lift it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place, For here Thou has a chosen race! But God confound their stubborn face, An blast their name, Wha bring Thy elders tae disgrace An open shame.
Lord, mind Gav'n Hamilton's deserts: He drinks, an swears, an plays at cartes, Yet has sae monie takin airts, Wi great and sma', Fae God's ain Priest the people's hearts He steals awa.
And when we chasten'd him therefore, Thou kens how he bred sic a splore, And set the warld in a roar O laughin at us; Curse Thou his basket and his store, Kail an potatoes!
Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r, Against that Presbyt'ry o Ayr! Thy strong right hand, Lord, mak it bare Upo' their heids! Lord, visit them, an dinna spare, For their misdeeds!
O Lord, my God! that glib-tongu'd Aiken, My vera heart and flesh are quakin, Tae think how we stood sweatin, shakin, An pish'd wi dreid, While he, wi hingin lip, an snakin, Held up his heid.
Lord, in Thy day o vengeance try him! Lord, visit them wha did employ him! And pass no in Thy mercy by them, Nor hear their pray'r, But for Thy people's sake destroy them, An dinna spare.
But, Lord, remember me and mine Wi mercies temporal and divine, That I for grace an gear may shine, Excell'd by nane, And a' the glory shall be Thine Amen, Amen!
Epitaph on Holy Willie
Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay Taks up its last abode; His soul has ta'en some other way I fear, the left-hand road.
Stop! there he is as sure's a gun! Poor, silly body, see him! Nae wonder he's as black's the grun Observe wha's standing wi him!
Your brunstane Devilship, I see Has got him there before ye! But haud your nine-tail cat a wee, Till wance you've heard my story.
Your pity I will not implore, For pity ye have nane, Justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er, And mercy's day is gane.
But hear me, Sir, Deil as ye are, Look something tae your credit: A cuif like him wad stain your name, If it were kent ye did it!
Oh Lord Obama, please sprinkle your magic around so that I can push this through the Senate and still win re-election. In Thy Name, I pray. Mmm mmm mmm!
Oh God, take mercy on my soul for deceiving your flock on so many issues. I know exactly what I do, but can not help myself, as I am but a mindless liberal.
Jeez, Scunny... I haven't even had my first espresso this morning and you hit me with Robbie. At this time of day let me start up slowly with a little monosyllabic Rod McKuen and then work my way up.
I am praying to my favorite political philosopher Mao to intercede and force these dissenters who believe in freedom, to be hypnotized, march in line, follow my command, and say YES to supporting Obamacare.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."
ReplyDelete(Clicks heels three times)
ReplyDelete"There's no place like home!"
"Here is the the House.
ReplyDeleteHere is the steeple.
Shove through the bill
and screw all the people."
"Lord, I know it's been a while. Who? It's me, Harry. Harry Reid. (No answer). You know, Democrat from Nevada ... God, are you still there?"
ReplyDeleteSaint Karl, I beseech thee to grant me the strength to smite the enemies of Socialism and the Proletarian Struggle, and to bring the Revolution to The Worker's Paradise of the People's Democratic Republic of America.
ReplyDeleteDang, that glue I got on my hands is stronger than I thought.
ReplyDeletelol...oiy!..be back with a pithy comment!
ReplyDeleteDear Lord, please don't let Joe Lieberman embarass me again.
ReplyDeleteDear God make me a bird so I can fly far. Far away from here.
ReplyDelete"Lord, please keep Pelosi from asking me to scratch her hard-to-reach places..."
ReplyDeleteSaint Karl ... LOL, Steve.
ReplyDeleteDid some one say "oye" and try to slip it in the punchbowl by misspelling it?
This is good fun with Harry, but look ahead to 2010, when he goes down. (Cue KC & the Sunshine Band).
Okay, how about another ...
"Rahm ... Rahm, is that you, Rahm?"
We assume those are Reid's hands.
ReplyDeleteDear kind and gracious lord Berry, please grant me the strength to look at myself in the mirror. It has been so long, and the shame is so great.
ReplyDeleteI tried to come up with a caption and instead got distracted by how unbelievably ancient he looks, sorry.
ReplyDeleteAn atheist will try anything to pass health care ...
ReplyDeletePlease, allah, don't let this tingle I feel up my leg be a stroke.
ReplyDeleteNow I lay me down to sleep
ReplyDeleteAfraid Obama's agenda doth reek,
If it should die before New Year's Day
I pray for a way that I can save face.
"There's no place like Wash DC, there's no place like Wash DC...or crap, am I still on OZ...where's that fu--ing wicked witch..???? "
ReplyDeleteI'm hoping it's "Please God, Take Me Now!"
ReplyDeleteIt seemed to work in karate kid, now where to find 6 blocks of ice.
ReplyDeleteTough crowd. Not very bipartisan. Excellent.
ReplyDeleteO Thou that in the Heavens does dwell,
ReplyDeleteWha, as it pleases best Thysel,
Sends wan tae Heaven, an ten tae Hell,
A' for Thy glory,
And no for onie guid or ill
They've done afore Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou has left in night,
That I am here before Thy sight,
For gifts an grace
A burning and a shining light
To a' this place.
What was I, or my generation,
That I should get sic exaltation?
I, wha deserv'd most just damnation
For broken laws,
Sax thousand years ere my creation,
Thro Adam's cause!
When from my mither's womb I fell,
Thou might hae plung'd me deep in Hell,
Tae gnash my gooms, and weep and wail,
In burning lakes,
Whaur damned devils roar and yell,
Chain'd tae their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample,
Tae show Thy grace is great and ample:
I'm here a pillar o Thy temple,
Strong as a rock,
A guide, a buckler, and example,
Tae a' Thy flock!
But yet, O Lord! confess I must,
At times I'm fash'd wi fleshy lust;
An sometimes, tae, in warldly trust,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defil'd wi sin.
O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi Meg
Thy pardon I sincerely beg
O, may't ne'er be a livin plague
Tae my dishonour!
An I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg
Again upon her.
Besides, I farther maun avow,
Wi Leezie's lass, three times I trow
But, Lord, that Friday I was fou,
When I cam near her,
Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true
Wad never steer her.
Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn,
Lest he owre proud and high should turn,
That he's sae gifted:
If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne,
Until Thou lift it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,
For here Thou has a chosen race!
But God confound their stubborn face,
An blast their name,
Wha bring Thy elders tae disgrace
An open shame.
Lord, mind Gav'n Hamilton's deserts:
He drinks, an swears, an plays at cartes,
Yet has sae monie takin airts,
Wi great and sma',
Fae God's ain Priest the people's hearts
He steals awa.
And when we chasten'd him therefore,
Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,
And set the warld in a roar
O laughin at us;
Curse Thou his basket and his store,
Kail an potatoes!
Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r,
Against that Presbyt'ry o Ayr!
Thy strong right hand, Lord, mak it bare
Upo' their heids!
Lord, visit them, an dinna spare,
For their misdeeds!
O Lord, my God! that glib-tongu'd Aiken,
My vera heart and flesh are quakin,
Tae think how we stood sweatin, shakin,
An pish'd wi dreid,
While he, wi hingin lip, an snakin,
Held up his heid.
Lord, in Thy day o vengeance try him!
Lord, visit them wha did employ him!
And pass no in Thy mercy by them,
Nor hear their pray'r,
But for Thy people's sake destroy them,
An dinna spare.
But, Lord, remember me and mine
Wi mercies temporal and divine,
That I for grace an gear may shine,
Excell'd by nane,
And a' the glory shall be Thine
Amen, Amen!
Epitaph on Holy Willie
Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay
Taks up its last abode;
His soul has ta'en some other way
I fear, the left-hand road.
Stop! there he is as sure's a gun!
Poor, silly body, see him!
Nae wonder he's as black's the grun
Observe wha's standing wi him!
Your brunstane Devilship, I see
Has got him there before ye!
But haud your nine-tail cat a wee,
Till wance you've heard my story.
Your pity I will not implore,
For pity ye have nane,
Justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er,
And mercy's day is gane.
But hear me, Sir, Deil as ye are,
Look something tae your credit:
A cuif like him wad stain your name,
If it were kent ye did it!
Oh Lord Obama, please sprinkle your magic around so that I can push this through the Senate and still win re-election. In Thy Name, I pray. Mmm mmm mmm!
ReplyDeleteI like me, I´m so grand, I stand up here just to hold my hand.
ReplyDeleteOh God, take mercy on my soul for deceiving your flock on so many issues. I know exactly what I do, but can not help myself, as I am but a mindless liberal.
ReplyDeleteSig 94: That's not right!...but it is funny as hell!
ReplyDeleteJeez, Scunny... I haven't even had my first espresso this morning and you hit me with Robbie. At this time of day let me start up slowly with a little monosyllabic Rod McKuen and then work my way up.
ReplyDeleteAt least he didn't treat us to a dramatic reading of the Raven. Nevermore. Note to self: Never mention poetry around Brits.
ReplyDeleteRobbie? I thought it was Ogden Nash.
ReplyDeleteSwoon. Rod McKuen.
I am praying to my favorite political philosopher Mao to intercede and force these dissenters who believe in freedom, to be hypnotized, march in line, follow my command, and say YES to supporting Obamacare.
ReplyDeleteMousie Dung was my favorite political philosopher, Teresa.
ReplyDeleteGod, please, please, please, make sure Myrick remembers to bring the Preparation H. OOOUUUCCCHHH!
ReplyDelete