Spaghetti? Ol’ Smokey?

I had the best evening in weeks! But I’ve learned to worry whenever I feel too happy… Things tend to backfire soon after. 😛

And after hours of re-acquainting myself with MySpace codes (which I hate), I finally fixed up my profile page (which I love now), and got rid of the pink-falling-petals layout (which I used to love) that had been there for centuries. I also wasted a lot of time deleting every single blog entry I made there one by one. Why? Because MySpace is too public and I sounded phenomenally stupid at 20. Not that I’m any better now three years later. But at least Blogger’s within my comfort zone. *pats*

Now if I can just figure out how to delete all the unwanted comments that some people posted on my page within the two years that I ignored it. For some reason, I keep on getting an error message when I click delete. Hmph.

I suddenly miss the original Vampire Princess Miyu blog layout that I used to have in MS. Maybe I can recreate that for here. But I’ll leave the coding for another day. I’m just so tired, and I still have to finish Areej’s cake. 🙂

~*~*~

I couldn’t resist posting this.

Cub Scout version:

On top of spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball,
When somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table,
And on to the floor,
And then my poor meatball,
Rolled out of the door.

It rolled in the garden,
And under a bush,
And then my poor meatball,
Was nothing but mush.

The mush was as tasty
As tasty could be,
And then the next summer,
It grew into a tree.

The tree was all covered,
All covered with moss,
And on it grew meatballs,
And tomato sauce.

So if you eat spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
Hold on to your meatball,
Whenever you sneeze.

Older version:

On top of Old Smokey,
All covered with snow,
I lost my true lover,
For courting too slow.

For courting’s a pleasure,
But parting is grief,
And a false-hearted lover,
Is worse than a thief.

A thief will just rob you,
And take what you have,
But a false-hearted lover,
Will lead you to your grave.

The grave will decay you,
And turn you to dust,
Not one boy in a hundred
A poor girl can trust.

They’ll hug you and kiss you,
And tell you more lies,
Than crossties on a railroad,
Or stars in the sky.

So come ye young maidens,
And listen to me,
Never place your affection
In a green willow tree.

For the leaves they will wither,
The roots they will die,
And you’ll be forsaken,
And never know why.

Dikkie’s College Student version:

On top of Old Smokey
all covered with blood,
I shot my poor teacher
With a 44 slug.

I killed her with honor,
I killed her with pride.
You wouldn’t have missed her,
she was 40 feet wide.

The next time I saw her
she wasn’t quite dead,
so I took a bazooka
and blew off her head.

I went to her funeral,
I went to her grave.
Some people threw flowers,
I threw a grenade.

[Verses courtesy of Jeremy and Denden. :-D]

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