Now here is a tale full of bathos, And more than a smidgeon of pathos, Concerning the sleaze Of three secret police: Called Aramis, Porthos and Athos.
These 3 little pigs travelled far, And stopped at about every bar, And duly kept tracks on This guy, Michael Jackson, Like Elvis they followed that star.
Questions they asked round the town, Like"What can you find that is brown, And in a kid's pants?"Would the answer, by chance, Be the hand of that M Jackson clown?
They're hunting him down like a dog. They even asked me, tiddy Ogg. "D'you know where he goes, When picking his nose?"... He gets them from some catalog.
To the video store they go, clad in Disguise, and as they softly pad in, They ask "What movie gent, Did that Jackson guy rent?" The answer: "He just got Aladdin."
| 'Bout Jackson I will not be mean. | His latest flick must sure be seen. | You just got to go, | It's a wonderful show... | They call it The African Queen.
To the king now their story they've spilled, How he likes to get kids' asses filled, Says the king to the cops "We'll soon put a stop To that, and has all of them killed.
| I'm plumbing the depths of bad taste, | And out of here I may be chased. | You may think it rotten, | That I'm touching bottom... | But it's too old for Mike Jackson's face.
So out to the country this crew Set off, find a shepherd,, say "You know what's come to pass? There's a fine piece of ass, In the stable, you'd better come too.
The shepherd says "yes, I came too, In Barbie, my favorite ewe. I regret my vacuity, Over that ambiguity, Alas, sires, I failed to construe."
And yes folks, I'm sorry to say, Though he fancied a roll in the hay, And acts very lewd, He again misconstrued, That ass had long ears and was grey.
| Now you know I've done sheep jokes galore, | And there really can't be many more, | Cept the blonde with dyed hair, | With a counting feat rare... ** | So I'd better get on with the stor-(y)
He comes then, without further urgin' And into the barn they're emerging. And there find a blonde Who fair tickles their wand, And sensually sings "Like A Virgin."
She yells: "Right, you freeloaders, scram. But you, hick, can give me that lamb." She bundles it in To a nearby feed bin, "The welfare I'll tell I'm its mam."
We leave thus this cunning young dame, Processing her benefit claim Our trio move out, And they each have no doubt, She'll ever be heard of again.
And so as they leave through the door, They keep with their "Zero points" score. To the desert they flee, You can take it from me, 'Twas *they* who were heard of no more.
* * *
Yes people, I hear you a-jeering, O'er long now you haven't been hearing About wacko Jacko - He's there in the sack-o, Researching a book on child-rearing.
They say God is black *and* he's white, He's gay *and* he's straight, see the light? She's female and male, Thus the point of this tale: Mike Jackson is god, mustg be right.
*** OK here's that last sheep joke...
A blonde who was hurt very deep By jokes, thought her secret she'd keep, She dyed her hair brown, Drove off out of town, Was stopped by a large flock of sheep.
She thought them so fluffy and sweet, That she said to the shepherd boy, Pete, "If their number I guess, That ought to impress, Will you give me just one as a treat?"
He said "Yes." she looked at them for A minute, "Three hundred and four." He looked in her eyes, With a show of surprise, "Go pick one out, dear, and it's yours."
She took from the edge of the pack, A beast, but our Pete says "Now slack- en off there, young maid. If I name the true shade Of your hair, can I have my dog back."
Last updated: Sun, 20 Feb 2000.