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 Post Posted: Thu Nov 07, 2002 3:35 am 
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Major Looney

Joined: Fri Oct 11, 2002 2:21 am
Posts: 616
Donald, Where's Your Trousers?

Melody -


I just got in frae the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by
"Donald where's your trousers?"
Chorus:
Let the winds blow high,
Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go
And all the ladies say "Hello
Donald where's your trousers?"
2. A lady took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I might fall
'Cause I had nae on me trousers!
Chorus:
3. They'd like to wed me everyone
Just let them catch me if they can
You canna put the breeks on a highland man
Who doesn't like wearing trousers.
Chorus:
4. To wear the kilt is my delight,
It isn't wrong, I know it's right.
The highlanders would get afright
If they saw me in trousers.
Chorus:

5. Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw
I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow,
Now you can't do that with trousers.
Chorus:



Farewell To Ballochmyle

Melody - "Miss Forbe's farewell to Banff"

Robert Burns, 1785

The Catrine woods were yellow seen,
The flowers decay'd on Catrine lee,
Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green,
But nature sicken'd on the e'e.
Thro' faded groves Maria sang,
Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while;
And aye the wild-wood ehoes rang,
Fareweel the braes o' Ballochmyle! 2. Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in with'ring bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air.
But here, alas! for me nae mair
Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile;
Fareweel the bonie banks of Ayr,
Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle!


The Lady of Kenmure

Melody -


From John O' Groats to Maidenkirk
You'll never find a truer
For loyal faith and dauntless deeds,
Than the Lady of Kenmure.
2. Though Whigs like rats infest the land,
And faithful hearts grow fewer,
Let Scotland never call in vain,
For a Gordon of Kenmure!

3. 'Ill news, ill news, my lady dear,
King James his foes must fly,
And Lord Kenmure in London Tower
This week is judged to die!
4. King George he answered never a word,
Nor raised her from her place,
But up she rose and proudly stood,
And looked him in the face.
5. Since you have not the royal heart
To grant this little thing,
I ask for grace from a graceless race
'Tis mercy crowns a King.

6. Haven't you not worked your will enough
On royal Stuart's line?
Now Scotland runs with noble blood,
And London runs with wine?



She's Fair And Fause

Melody -

Robert Burns, 1789

She's fair and fause that causes my smart,
I lo'ed her meikle and lang;
She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart,
And I may e'en gae hang.
A coof cam in wi' routh o' gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear;
But Woman is but warld's gear,
Sae let the bonie lass gang. 2. Whae'er ye be that woman love,
To this be never blind;
Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she prove,
A woman has't by kind.
O Woman lovely, Woman fair!
An angel form's faun to thy share,
'Twad been o'er meikle to gi'en thee mair
I mean an angel mind.


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 Post Posted: Wed Nov 20, 2002 7:48 pm 
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Starting Loony

Joined: Wed Nov 20, 2002 7:24 pm
Posts: 6
Mr. Praline: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.

(The owner does not respond.)

Mr. Praline: 'Ello, Miss?



Owner: What do you mean "miss"?

Mr. Praline: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!

Owner: We're closin' for lunch.

Mr. Praline: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

Owner: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?

Mr. Praline: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's wrong with it!

Owner: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.

Mr. Praline: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.



Owner: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!

Mr. Praline: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.

Owner: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!

Mr. Praline: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) 'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if you show...

(owner hits the cage)



Owner: There, he moved!

Mr. Praline: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!

Owner: I never!!

Mr. Praline: Yes, you did!

Owner: I never, never did anything...

Mr. Praline: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!

(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)

Mr. Praline: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.

Owner: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!



Mr. Praline: STUNNED?!?

Owner: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues stun easily, major.

Mr. Praline: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein' tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.

Owner: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.

Mr. Praline: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?

Owner: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit, squire? Lovely plumage!

Mr. Praline: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.



(pause)

Owner: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!

Mr. Praline: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!



Owner: No no! 'E's pining!

Mr. Praline: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!



(pause)

Owner: Well, I'd better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of parrots.

Mr. Praline: I see. I see, I get the picture.



Owner: I got a slug.

(pause)

Mr. Praline: Pray, does it talk?

Owner: Nnnnot really.

Mr. Praline: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?

Owner: Look, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton, he'll replace the parrot for you.

Mr. Praline: Bolton, eh? Very well.

(The customer leaves.)

(The customer enters the same pet shop. The owner is putting on a false moustache.)



Mr. Praline: This is Bolton, is it?

Owner: (with a fake mustache) No, it's Ipswitch.

Mr. Praline: (looking at the camera) That's inter-city rail for you.

(Mr Praine goes to the train station. He addresses a man standing behind a desk marked "Complaints".)

Mr. Praline: I wish to complain, British-Railways Person.

Attendant: I DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS JOB, YOU KNOW!!!

Mr. Praline: I beg your pardon...?

Attendant: I'm a qualified brain surgeon! I only do this job because I like being my own boss!

Mr. Praline: Excuse me, this is irrelevant, isn't it?

Attendant: Yeah, well it's not easy to pad these python files out to 150 lines, you know.

Mr. Praline: Well, I wish to complain. I got on the Bolton train and found myself deposited here in Ipswitch.

Attendant: No, this is Bolton.

Mr. Praline: (to the camera) The pet shop man's brother was lying!!

Attendant: Can't blame British Rail for that.

Mr. Praline: In that case, I shall return to the pet shop!

He does.

Mr. Praline: I understand this IS Bolton.



Owner: (still with the fake mustache) Yes?

Mr. Praline: You told me it was Ipswitch!

Owner: ...It was a pun.

Mr. Praline: (pause) A PUN?!?

Owner: No, no...not a pun...What's that thing that spells the same backwards as forwards?

Mr. Praline: (Long pause) A palindrome...?

Owner: Yeah, that's it!

Mr. Praline: It's not a palindrome! The palindrome of "Bolton" would be "Notlob"!! It don't work!!

Owner: Well, what do you want?

Mr. Praline: I'm not prepared to pursue my line of inquiry any longer as I think this is getting too silly!

Sergeant-Major: Quite agree, quite agree, too silly, far too silly...


AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETLY DIFFERENT....The Lumberjack Song!

BARBER:
I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night. I work all day.


MOUNTIES:
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.


MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea.

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.


BARBER:
I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!

He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Mama.

BARBER and MOUNTIES:
I (He) cut(s) down trees. I (He) wear(s) high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!
BARBER:
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Mama!

BURMA!
Why'd you say 'burma'?
.....
I panicked.


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 Post Posted: Wed Nov 20, 2002 11:18 pm 
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Major Looney

Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 6:13 am
Posts: 884
Landlady: Hello, Mr and Mrs Johnson?

Mr Johnson: Yes, that's right. Yes.

Landlady: Oh, come on in. Excuse me not shaking hands, I've just been putting a bit of lard on the cat's boils. (Door closes)

Johnson: Thank you.

Landlady: Oh, you must be tired. It's a long way from Coventry, isn't it?

Johnson: Well, we usually reckon on five and a half hours and it took us six hours and 53 minutes, with the 25 minute stop at Frampton Cottrell to stretch our legs; and we had to wait half an hour to get onto the M5 at Droitwich.

Landlady: Really?

Johnson: Then there was a three mile queue just before Bridgewater on the A38. We usually come round on the B3339, you see, just before Bridgewater.

Landlady: Yeah. Really?

Johnson: We decided to risk it 'cause they always say they're going to widen it there. Yes, well just by the intersection there where the A372 joins up. There's plenty of room to widen it there, there's only grass verges. They could get another six feet, knock down that hospital. Then we took the coast road through Williton - we got all the Taunton traffic on the A358 from Crowcombe and Stogumber.

Landlady: Well you must be dying for a cup of tea.

Johnson: Well, wouldn't say no, long as it's warm and wet.

Landlady: Well come on in the lounge, I'm just going to serve afternoon tea.

Johnson: Very nice.

Landlady: Come on in, Mr and Mrs Johnson and meet Mr and Mrs Phillips.

Mr Phillips: Good afternoon.

Johnson: Good afternoon.

Landlady: It's their third time here; we can't keep you away, can we? And over there is Mr Hilter.

(In the corner are three German generals in full Nazi uniform, poring over a map.)

Hilter: Ach. Ha! Gut time, er, gut afternoon.

Landlady: Oho, planning a little excursion, eh, Mr Hilter?

Hilter: Ja, ja, ve haff a little... (to Bimmler) was ist Abweise bewegen?

Bimmler: Hiking.

Hilter: Ah yes, ve make a little *hike* for Bideford.

Johnson: Ah yes. Well, you'll want the A39. Oh, no, you've got the wrong map there. This is Stalingrad. You want the Ilfracombe and Barnstaple section.

Hilter: Ah! Stalingrad! Ha ha ha, Heinri...Reginald, you have the wrong map here you silly old leg-before-vicket English person.

Bimmler: I'm sorry mein Fuhrer, mein (cough) mein Dickie old chum.

Landlady: Oh, lucky Mr Johnson pointed that out. You wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you? Ha ha. (stony silence) I said, you wouldn't have had much fun in Stalingrad, would you?

Hilter: Not much fun in Stalingrad, no.

Landlady: Oh I'm sorry. I didn't introduce you. This is Ron. Ron Vibbentrop.

Johnson: Oh, not Ron Vibbentrop, eh?

Vibbentrop: Nein! Nein! Oh. Ha ha. Different other chap. I in Somerset am being born. Ron Vibbentrop is born Gotterdammerstrasse 46, Dusseldorf Vest 8.....so they say!

Landlady: And this is the quiet one, Heinrich Bimmler.

Bimmler: Pleased to meet you, squire. I also am not of Minehead being born but I in your Peterborough Lincolnshire was given birth to. But am staying in Peterborough Lincolnshire house all time during vor, due to jolly old running sores, and vos unable to go in the streets or to go visit football matches or go to Nuremburg. Ha ha. Am retired vindow cleaner and pacifist, without doing war crimes. Oh...and am glad England vin Vorld Cup. Bobby Charlton. Martin Peters. And eating I am lots of chips and fish and hole in the toads and Dundee cakes on Piccadilly Line, don't you know old chap, vot! And I vos head of Gestapo for ten years.(Hilter elbows him in the ribs) Ah! Five years! (Hilter elbows him again, harder) Nein! No! Oh. NOT head of Gestapo AT ALL! I was not, I make joke! (laughs)

Landlady: Oh, Mr Bimmler. You do have us on! (Telephone rings) Oh excuse me. I'd better get that.

Johnson: How long are you down here for, Mr Hilter, just the fortnight?

Hilter: Vot you ask that for, are you a spy? Get on against the wall, Britischer Pig, you are going to die!

Bimmler: Take it easy, Dickie old chum!

Vibbentrop: He's a bit on edge, Mr Johnson, he hasn't slept since 1945.

Hilter: Shut your cake-hole, you Nazi!

Vibbentrop: Cool it, Fuhrer cat!

Bimmler: Ha ha, the fun we have!

Johnson: Haven't I seen you on the television?

Hilter, Vibbentrop, & Bimmler: (hastily) Nicht. Nein. No.

Johnson: Simon Dee show, or was it Frosty?

Hilter, Vibbentrop, & Bimmler: Nein. No.

Landlady: Telephone, Mr Hilter. It's Mr McGoering from the Bell and Compasses. He says he's found a place where you can hire bombers by the hour...?

Hilter: If he opens his big mouth again, it's Lapschig time!

Bimmler: Shut up! Ha ha, hire bombers! He's a joker, that Scottish person.

Vibbentrop: Good old Norman!

Landlady: (to Johnson) He's on the phone the whole time now.

Johnson: In business, is he?

Bimmler: Soon, baby!

Landlady: Of course it's his big day Thursday. They've been planning it for months.

Johnson: What's happening Thursday then?

Landlady: Well it's the North Minehead bye-election. Mr Hilter's standing as the National Bocialist. He's got wonderful plans for Minehead!

Johnson: Like what?

Landlady: Well, for a start he wants to annex Poland.

Johnson: North Minehead's Conservative, isn't it?

Landlady: Well, yes, he gets a lot of people at his rallies.

(Short scene cut: huge crowds outside going "Sieg Heil. Sieg Heil. Sieg Heil.")

Hilter: I am not a racialist, but...and dis is a big but...the National Bocialist party says that das (stream of German).

Bimmler: Mr Hilter (Hilter slaps him) ...Hilter says historically Taunton is a part of Minehead already!

Hilter: Und der Minehead ist nicht die letze (stream of German)...in die Welt!

Crowd: Sieg Heil.

( Cut to interviews on the street: )

Yokel: Oi don't loike the sound of these 'ere Boncentration Bamps.

Woman: Well, I gave him my baby to kiss, and he bit it in the head!

Upper class: Well, I think he'd do a lot of good to the Stock Exchange.

Gumby: I THINK HE'S GOT BEAUTIFUL LEGS!

Conservative: (droning) Well... well... as the Conservative candidate I just drone on and on and on and on without letting anyone else get a word in edgeways, until I start to froth at the mouth and fall over backwards. Ooo-aaahhh. (THUD)

Lemon Curry?


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2002 3:44 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Fri Oct 11, 2002 2:21 am
Posts: 616


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 Post Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2002 4:19 pm 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Sat Jun 15, 2002 3:20 pm
Posts: 512
i saw that sketch! it was quite funny. anyway....


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2002 12:40 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 6:13 am
Posts: 884
Yes, but it's not as funny as the Spanish Inquisition.

Lemon Curry?


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2002 3:31 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Fri Oct 11, 2002 2:21 am
Posts: 616
Tis not as funny as the one legged man auditioning for the role of Tarzan neither


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2002 9:26 pm 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 6:13 am
Posts: 884
Yes that would be very funny.

Lemon Curry?


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:32 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Fri Oct 11, 2002 2:21 am
Posts: 616
BEYONFD THE FRINGE


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Wed Nov 27, 2002 2:30 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 6:13 am
Posts: 884
Have you gone back to your liking of the caps lock key eolan?

Lemon Curry?


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Wed Nov 27, 2002 4:22 am 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Fri Oct 11, 2002 2:21 am
Posts: 616
ACTually, I fEEl LIke A litTle Mixing Would Be VERY nicE


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 Post subject:
 Post Posted: Wed Nov 27, 2002 9:21 pm 
Offline
Major Looney

Joined: Sat Sep 07, 2002 6:13 am
Posts: 884
Oh yes it's very nice indeed.

Lemon Curry?


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