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Submitted by RoadSong at 2013-10-17 15:28:43 EDT
Rating: 1.33 on 7 ratings (9 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

Surely this redeems me.

Our poor starving family was forced to live in a hollowed out pumpkin eating nothing but seeds for months on end. Of course once in a while a prince would come visiting trying to jam that damn glass slipper on the foot of one of our oinkish daughters. The pretty one had a fairy godmother with a magic...wand. The wand turned the rats into ponies and the pumpkin house into a carriage. We were glad when the bells chimed midnight and we could move back into our home sweet pumpkin home.

It was cold that night
She got to go to the ball
We had to stand in the hall

Happy Hallowed WEEN!


All Hallows Eve
Dias De Los Muertos

The Day of the Dead is by far the most interesting of these festivals for me. Did I ever tell you about the celebration down on the river when the ancestors did show up? No?

Enclosed please find a flaming Death Star Pumpkin and poetry from the Civil War.


When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and the gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin'; of the guineys and the cluckin' of the hens
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O it's then the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock

They's somethin kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here -
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny monring of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock -
When the frost is on the punkin and fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries - kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A preachin' sermons to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below - the clover overhead! -
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too!
I don't know how to tell it - but if sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me -
I'd want to 'commodate 'em - all the whole-indurin' flock -
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Fodder, in case people today do not know what it is, is food for the farm animals. The tall Indiana corn, when thoroughly dry, was gathered into "Shocks" of tentlike appearance tied at the top, and left in the fields to be used as needed. The countryside was very picturesque as one drove along the narrow, dusty roads, some not even graveled with the sight of the corn wigwams and huge pumpkins lying here and there in the fields.

It has almost been forgotten how useful the pumpkin was to the pioneer. It was so easy to grow - just a few seeds dropped into a small, shallow hole; then when mature, it had its own thick rind and would keep indefinitely. When all else failed the family could eat pumpkin flavored with carefully guarded spices.

~ James Whitcomb Riley ~

If it had been an asploding punkin filled with gummi-stormtroopers, THEN the poetry would've been sort-of okay...

It is a border on Nerdom, the title, but it corrects itself. Besides.

(Simply end any sentence with besides, and it looks more plauable/smarter/controvert.)

Jaysus, RoadSong. What HAVE you been drinking/smoking/snorting on this, my High Holy Day/Night?

Auto -2 for refusing to let me e-win an internet argument.

mine was better.

Yes, besides that it conveys the unspoken unbroken. woo


and so went the first choke slam in history. a long time ago in a galaxy far far away.

Sometimes you don't want what you get....






Review This Item




Submitted by RoadSong at 2013-10-30 17:37:44 EDT (#)

get high with a little help from my friends

Submitted by EyeInTheSky at 2013-10-30 16:27:28 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Do you get my last comment .

Submitted by EyeInTheSky at 2013-10-23 15:33:31 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Cool. Took your advice my friend. Hope your garden still as good as this one.

Submitted by orphelia at 2013-10-20 16:45:03 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by bart made me laugh at 2013-10-18 20:26:21 EDT (#)
Rating: -1

these gifs grow tiresome

Submitted by Shlongy at 2013-10-17 21:06:00 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

STFU oathmeal.

Submitted by skrapmetal at 2013-10-17 19:26:39 EDT (#)

Submitted by OathMeal at 2013-10-17 16:59:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

It's just not a Roadsong post without sparkly gifs.
He's right, you know.

Submitted by OathMeal at 2013-10-17 16:59:19 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

It's just not a Roadsong post without sparkly gifs.

Submitted by JonnyX at 2013-10-17 16:36:48 EDT (#)
Rating: 1


Marge: Homer, you're his father. You've got to reason with him.

Homer: Oh, that never works. He's a goner!

Bart the Daredevil