Long afar and go away, when I was but a wee prat, an English teacher had the class work on some creative writing by penning Thanksgiving lyrics to common Christmas carol tunes. The one I’ve never forgotten:
To the melody ‘Silver Bells’:
Turkey’s roasting,
Tommy’s boasting
he can eat the whole thing,
even though it’s a sixteen pound turkey.
Grandma’s knitting,
Mother’s hitting
Tommy over the head.
He must learn that the turkey’s for all.
So c’mon faithful Dopers, get your creative juices simmering!
I would like to add that turkeys are the most foul smelling critters I’ve had the displeasure of coming across. Since my wife has been raising them, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another one ever again.
We’re talkin’ “knock a buzzard off a Chuck-wagon” funk here. Renders nearly a quarter-acre uninhabitable. Even filthier than the all-time filthy-animal-to-date, the disgusting ferret.
It will be a difficult Thanksgiving this year. I’m eating beef jerky.
*For all of us the turkey’s carved
All for us
The buns are buttered
All for us
The spuds are mashed
For all of us the turkey’s ca-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-r-ved
All for us the turkey’s carved
All for us the the spuds are mash-ed
And the casserole, the casserole of green beans is made ready!
And our plates will be filled with
CRAN-BERRIES!
PUMPKIN PIE!
THE CANDIED YAMS!
THE GIBLET-CHESNUT DRESSING!
THE BUTTERED PEAS!*
Adam Sandler also wondered a while ago, why so few Thanksgiving carols:
*"Thanksgiving is a special night
Jimmy Walker used to say Dynomite
That’s right
Turkey with gravy and cranberry
Can’t believe the Mets traded Darryl Strawberry
Turkey for you and
Turkey for me
Can’t believe Tyson
Gave that girl V.D.
White meat, dark meat
You just can’t lose
I fell off my moped
And I got a bruise
Turkey in the oven
And the buns in the toaster
I’ll never take down
My Cheryl Tiegs poster
Wrap the turkey up
In aluminum foil
My brother likes to masturbate
With baby oil
Turkey and sweet potato pie
Sammy Davis Jr.
Only had one eye!"*
part of “The Thanksgiving Song”
Here is my carol, To the tune of Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow:
*Oh the stuffing inside is frightful
But the gravy is so delightful
And since it has no place to go…
Tummy Grows! Tummy Grows! Tummy Grows!
It doesn’t show signs of stopping
And there is room for corn for popping
My gut is going way down low
Let It grow! Let It grow! Let It grow!*
kaylasdad, I know Handel, but for some reason am coming up blank on which oratorio you were making a parody of. I know I’ll do a :smack: whe it’s pointed out to me though.
On the 12th hour of Thanksgiving, I ate for all to see:
12 cranberry sauces
11 green bean casseroles
10 mashed potatoes
9 yams with marshmellows
8 cups of eggnog
7 apple ciders
6 types of olives
5 pumpkin pies
4 types of stuffing
3 cups of gravy
2 Alka-Seltzers
And one big golden turkey.
*Go roast ye all turkey that we’ll eat Thanksgiving Day
and please deep fry a couple more, let naught stand in your way,
we must ensure this holiday’s a gluttonous display
of excess and gastronomic joy, tummy says, “Oy!”
spare nothing for our gastronomic joy.
Thanksgiving comes but once a year, so have a second plate,
make sure to try the cornbread, too, and boy, this ham is great!
But save room for the apple pie on top of what you ate,
with one scoop of ice cream, maybe two, tummy cries, “OOO!”
have another scoop of ice cream, make it two.
Forget ye not the side dishes with which we stuff our guts,
the candied yams, the casseroles, the pies all topped with nuts,
then gaze we in the mirror at our huge expanding butts,
with tidings of remorse and dismay, diet today!
with tidings of remorse and dismay. *
