Prof Higgins, who studied semantics, linguistics, And dialectsfound from the Tyne to the Exe, (1) Had also a love of the vital statistics Of models, nude, pictured in mags about sex. He'd take out his dictaphone, heedless of strictures, Recording folk's voices wherever he went, And then in the evening would drool over pictures From camouflaged cameras in brothels in Brent. (2) One day he'd been tramping the back streets for hours, His dictaphone held, throbbing, firm in his mitt, When he sees this girl, age fourteen, selling flowers, And says to himself: "Boy I fancy that chit." He sweet-talks the girl to return to his mansion And tells her, "Eliza, I'll make you real rich I'll teach you to write verse, with strict rhyme and scansion Like old Tiddy Ogg." She believes him, dumb bitch. That shows how damn stupid was dippy Eliza, For none could write verses as brilliant as mine, With rhyme phoneme-perfect, And scansion as tight as A duck's ass, with line length absolutely spot on, each time. (4) Enough of this self-praise, 'tis recommendation For hell, or so my maiden aunt once decreed, And let us return to our gal's situation, Before in such waffle I make a whole screed. With lesbian housekeeper, Katie McLimpho They Lizzie's hair washed and then get her bathed. (3) And ere she can say "Garn yer pervs, I'm no nympho," She's licking Kate's pussy and riding Hal's shaft. Alas for our Henry Eliza's no poet, She's much more adept at tricks quoted above, Hal thus buys a camper van, then 'fore you know it He's touring,Liz selling professional love. He's got the van wired up for vision and audio, It's worked by a Merkin who's called Hank or Tex. He's made films and records of all events bawdy-o And wrote a book: "Regional Dialect In Sex." So he's made his fortune, and now has retired, To some warm tax shelter, like most of his ilk, And Liza by some halfwit blue-blood is squired, And she swans around in fine satin and silk The moral, young maidens, is learn you have powers, To catch millionaires, simply show what you've got, Make sure, as they pass, that you flash them your flowers, And soon you'll have one eating out of your twat.
(1) Rivers of north-east and south-west England., respectively.
(2) Not exactly the poshest part of London.
(3) with a soft "a" of course, remember we're talking accents/dialects here, and my old mother used to say it.
(4) For Merkins and the hard of thinking, that's irony.
They tell you that memory plays tricks, But *they* ar a bunch of dumb pricks. I saw My Fair Lady, With Lola... no, Sadie, Way back in about '66.
Eliza sold flowers in the street, Though dirty she looked rather sweet, Till old Henry Higgin Came, showed her his big 'un And swept the gal right off her feet.
Vack home, she gets thrown in the tub, His housekeeper gives her a scrub, While Henry keeps watch, His hand on his crotch, And giving hmself a good rub.
And next, in a manner unchivalrous, He takes her in manner lascivious, As does his friend, Charlie, Who roars like a Harley To her vain protestations oblivious.
He now tries to teach her to speak, In Portuguese, Spanish and Greek, And though she's half-killed With study, she's skilled Enough so that after a week...
...He sends her off down to the docks, To rent out her pussy to cocks To foreign ships' crews, Who'd ply her with booze, And roubles and doubloons... and pox.
So now, ere her face gets too pocky, He takes her away from the dock, he Takes her to the races, At Ascot, and places A bet she's the finest cock jockey.
Whereat Lizzie wins the Gold Cup, The tart all the studs want to tup, And now, total farce, For some silly arse Goes, weds her, the randy young pup.
For though he's the brain of a sieve, To strains of "The Street Where You Live", His troth it is plighted, But soon ain't delighted, At all the diseases she'll give.
Now folks, I admit, it has been A long time that's passed since I've seen That flick, but you'll note, That this that I've wrote is just what you'll see on the screen. Through details above you may sift, You'll see not a comma adrift, You see I'm endowed With a feature I'm proud Of, Memory perfect's my gift.
Last updated: Monday, November 07, 2005