D is for Dirty, That's Good Enough for Me
Edited below! Lost passages from the verse-epic have been recovered!
So I had this crazy, dirty alphabet ditty all done up for you - inspired by you, you dirty dawgs - all nicely laid out on my Blogger screen with pictures and everything and then I go to save it and pfaff... "YOU ARE NOT LOGGED IN. PLEASE LOG IN AND TRY AGAIN."
And, just like that, it's gone. Apparently, my original post was created under conditions of intolerable subterfuge and Blogger - dear, sweet, protective Blogger, always looking out for me -took care to ensure that no HBM posts be created under false pretenses, and, so... zaaappp.
All that remains are those passages of verse that I was able to recall as I sat, fuming, for the duration of the bus-ride that is my long and lonely trip home from the suburban campus at which I have been sentenced to teach and scribbled what I could from memory. Much to the obvious discomfort of the older lady who was sitting next to me and reading over my shoulder... (p is for phallus that stands at attention!)
Herewith, then, all that is extant of the verse-epic, Now You Know Your ABCs...
A is for alphabet, propped against wall
B is for boob-sling, all crunched in a ball
C is for child, who puts bras on her head
D is for dirty, the things that you said
E is for eager, your stories to tell
F words were few, but that's just as well
G is for glee, as you dished out your smut
H is for hell, where we'll land on our butts
I's for the incident I had you describe
"Jumped out, did your boobs!" claimed many a scribe
"Knocked off your chest! The boob-sling did fly!"
"Liquored-up, you sure were - and don't try to lie!"
"Massages at noon - the real dirty kind!"
(Nooners, it seems, are much on your minds.)
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders got lots of mention
As did things starting with P, that stand at attention.
Q (is lost in the gaping maw of the Bloggerburator. I have no recollection of what I did with Q, which means that it was probably brilliant. Future scholars will write great tomes about the lost passages of the HBM alphabet, perhaps using iconography from the HBM blog-scrolls - extant notwithstanding the Great Blogger Implosion of 2040 - to construct a hypothetical alphabet that can be used to decode the Secrets of the Great Cult of the Virtual Mother...)
S is for sex - you all think I have lots
Truth is... um...
(Truth is what?! what's the truth? WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER DAMMIT?)
(Truth is... sex waits 'til I've washed all the pots? Sex makes me break out in spots? means connecting the dots? What what what was the truth about sex?)
Underwear in this house just gets tossed in the bin
Vampy bras see some action, but not very much sin
WonderBaby steals bras to wrap 'round her sweet head
X-rated undies are now chapeaux instead.
Yet shouldn't the bra be celebrated in play?
Z's pronounced ZED by Canadians, eh?
(OK, that last line was not in the original verse-epic but I am just too exhausted by my failure to remember the original couplet to do anything more than flame out in a blaze of total lameness.)
Yeah, that's right. Cover your ears. La Perla is best for muffling the sound of bad poetry.
Inspired by your comments, the Husband has come up with a plausible candidate for the missing Q/R couplet!Q is for quickie, of which there are few;
R is for romp, a nice word for screw.
This is a tremendous contribution to the fragmented verse-epic, and I thank you all for your contribution. But we're still missing the conclusion to the second line of the S/T couplet, and I will not sleep until it is recovered. (I will not sleep in any case, but that's beside the point.)
Labels: Being Bad