Tag Archives: parodies

With apologies to Adam Mansbach

(Before you read this, my mother would like you to know she raised me right. It’s not her fault. ‘K? Thanks.)

STAY THE F@&$ AT HOME by Wendy Welch

(Parody of GO THE F$&@ TO SLEEP by Adam Mansbach)

The cats nestle close to their kittens,
The calves in the barn cease to roam
We are cozy and warm ‘round our hearth, here.
We will stay the f$&@ at home.

The windows are dark in the town, child.
No you cannot go to the shop
I’ll order your Easter basket online this year
You will stay the f$&@ home, so stop.

Screen time restrictions are out the window
Watch it all, watch it fast, watch it hard.
If you’ve got space out back, lucky you! Plan your garden.
Stay the f$&@ home can include your yard.

All the kids are home from school now
Bouncing on beds and screaming
Fuck no, they can’t go to a sleepover
Yes it’s tempting, but you’re still f$&@ing dreaming.

There were eagles who soared through Walmart and scored
The bleach wipes, the eggs, the tp
Chad has his whisky and Karen her wine.
So stay the f$&@ home, kids, and read.

Our parents fly forth from their houses.
From pharmacy to diner they roam
What part of my phone call was unclear, Dad?
I said, “STAY THE F$&@ AT HOME.”

COVID 19 doesn’t care who you voted for.
But when Trump speaks, the stock market crashes
Do please get the f$&@ out of THAT house, dude
Before we lose what’s left of our ass-uhm our assets.

Flowers doze low in the meadows
But the national parks are closed.
So let’s get online to share jokes by Zoom
And stay the f@&$ at home.

It sucks, but we’re up to this challenge.
We crochet, paint, write, and build things.
We stay the f$&@ home and make crafts from tp rolls.
And soon, like Italy, we will sing.

It’s okay, we’ll get through these strange times
With resilience, humor and pluck.
And when the coronials asked what we did in the crisis
We will answer “We stayed home to make you, dear.”

No photo description available.

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Filed under humor, Life reflections, post-apocalypse fiction, Uncategorized, Wendy Welch

Miss Missy Elocutes

Missy

Jack is busy finishing the paperwork for his town council run, so we appreciate Missy stepping in to write this week’s guest blog.

Good afternoon. My name is Missy and I am Foster Cat in Residence at Tales of the Lonesome Pine Used Books. They have invited me to live in their efficiency apartment while I sort my circumstances.

Nothing sordid, mind you, but I was living with a family of six cats and one human staff member up until November of last year, when our housekeeper’s big heart finally gave out. We were all very sad; she was such a good woman.

Of course we had no idea what was in store for us, but we were quickly split up and sent to stay with relations. My companion Smudge and I wound up here. I wouldn’t say a word against Smudge, but let me assure you, we shared nothing but the bills and housekeeping chores.

missy sittingSmudge was quickly adopted, but I’ve been here at the bookstore’s Hostel for Distressed Gentlecats about a month now. My time has not been idle. I’ve run up a pair of curtains for the windows and given the hardwood floor a good scrubbing. I’ve also improved the manners of the staff, and let me tell you, they needed some work. There seem to be four cats in permanent residence, and they had let things slide considerably. I even had to put up a fuss until a clean white towel was arranged under my food service area.

They are kind people, and I know they mean well, but the heart longs for a home of its own, does it not? I would like nothing more than to pack my (clean) ramekins and fluffy pillow, put on my good hat, and go out the door to a quieter, gentler place. While I don’t mind dogs as such, they do make quite a lot of noise. Really, I think it would be ideal for me to live in a home with a couple of younger cats. I could teach them deportment, and the finer points of life, like keeping one’s sleeping area clean, and how to brew a perfect cup of catnip tea. In the afternoon, as they dozed on the verandah, I could read them stories of a morally uplifting nature.

missy walkingAnd while a lady hesitates to discuss private matters, I am of a certain age (oh, all right, seven) and have been… {ahem} seen to down there.

So really, I’m only waiting for the right home to come along: quiet, calm, and with a housekeeper who is prepared to brush my fur at least twice a day. As I say, the people here are kind, but they do seem busy, and I really cannot abide missing a brushing. If you think you could provide these simple needs, do please stop by so we can discuss room requirements and mutual expectations. Thank you for this little chat, and I look forward to getting to know you better soon.

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Filed under animal rescue, bad writing, Big Stone Gap, bookstore management, Downton Abbey, humor, Life reflections, small town USA, Uncategorized, VA