|
L Y D I A ,
T H E T A T T O O E D L A D Y
Music by Harold Arlen. Lyrics by E.Y. Harburg.
Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?
Lydia, the Tattooed Lady.
She has eyes that folks adore so,
And a torso even more so.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopedia.
Oh Lydia the queen of tattoo.
On her back is the Battle of Waterloo.
Beside it, the wreck of the Hesperus too.
And proudly above waves the red, white, and blue.
You can learn a lot from Lydia!
La-la-la...la-la-la.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
When her robe is unfurled, she will show you the world,
If you step up and tell her where.
For a dime you can see Kankakee or Paris,
Or Washington crossing The Delaware.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?
Lydia the Tattooed Lady.
When her muscles start relaxin',
Up the hill comes Andrew Jackson.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopedia.
Oh Lydia, the queen of them all.
For two bits she will do a mazurka in jazz,
With a view of Niagara that nobody has.
And on a clear day you can see Alcatraz.
You can learn a lot from Lydia!
La-la-la...la-la-la.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
Come along and see Buff’lo Bill with his lasso.
Just a little classic by Mendel Picasso.
Here is Captain Spaulding exploring the Amazon.
Here's Godiva, but with her pajamas on.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
Here is Grover Whelan unveilin' the Trilon.
Over on the west coast we have Treasure Islan’.
Here's Nijinsky a-doin' the rhumba.
Here's her social security numba.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
La-la-la...la-la-la.
Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclopedia.
Oh Lydia, the champ of them all.
She once swept an admiral clear off his feet.
The ships on her hips made his heart skip a beat.
And now the old boy's in command of the fleet,
For he went and married Lydia!
I said Lydia... (He said Lydia...)
They said Lydia... (We said Lydia…)
La la!
S T U F F IN G À L A
Y A N K E E P O T R O A S T
You will need:
One cup of butter, margarine, oleo, or artificial butter flavoring;
Two cups of chopped onion;
Two cups of chopped celery;
¼ cup of chopped parsley;
Two 8-ounce cans of sliced non-poisonous, non-hallucinogenic mushrooms, drained of water;
Twelve cups of bread, a day old and sliced into cubes;
One teaspoon of poultry seasoning;
Two eggs -- and beat the tar out of ’em;
One and ½ teaspoons of sage leaves, dried;
One teaspoon of dried thyme leaves;
½ teaspoon of crushed black pepper;
¼ teaspoon of powdered garlic;
Three and ½ cups of the broth of turkey broth;
Six beers.
And also:
A skillet;
An oven range or other heat source;
A large bowl;
A slow cooker or crockpot;
Some spoons, probably.
Place the butter in a skillet and the skillet on the oven range. Using a low heat, melt the butter or butter substitute. In alphabetical order, add the celery, the mushrooms, the onions, and the parsley. Drink a beer, occasionally stirring the buttery celery-’shroom-onion-parsley concoction. Align the cubes of bread in size order in a large bowl, largest on bottom and smallest at the top. Drink a beer while constructing the bread pyramid.
Pour the skillet’s cele-onio-parsleyshroom butter over the bread-cube tiers. Toss all the remaining spices and seasonings in and mush the colloidal mess up with a big wooden spoon. Your halfway done at this point, so drink a third beer.
Dump some turkey broth in. The eggs, too. Stir it all up, and then gently spoon the whole gloppy mess into a slow cooker or a crockpot. Cover it.
Drink those other three beers while the crockpot chills on the stove for six to eight hours. (Not “chills,” like, “cold” – “chills,” as in, “I’m just chillin’, here on the stove.”
Serves twelve.
Enjoy!
What?
Why?
Wow.
|
