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History Guy
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Reads too many books...
Oct 2001
time: 23:24
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While passing through the marketplace I heard a bunch of drunks singing this. Though a bit peeved by their obvious lies about my hair, I wrote it down, for inspection.
Hernan de History Guy Calamari the Younger
(ooc) Hope you guys like this. It's revised from something else I wrote many Christmases ago for another bunch of guys where it was very well received. Just tweaked it around. Hope everyone likes it. It's not meant seriously at all obviously, and not meant to offend, but merely to be enjoyable. Feel free to add more verses if you like. Merry Christmas. (/ooc)
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A Traditional Iberian Wassailing Carol
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
Wassail, Wassail all o’er the town,
Our toast is it white, and our ale it is brown!
Our bowl ‘tis made of the white maple tree,
And with the Wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
A toast to God King! (Whose stomach is sick
From eating too much of squid-on-a-stick!)
He’ll have to take off one more week
Before he can fix the chamber pot’s leak!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
Gastronome’s smart, he’s got a big brain,
It’s the size of a house, although he’s insane…
Although he’s insane, He was born in Spain
Which means he ain’t that much of a pain!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
And here’s to Spamish, and to his thin squid,
For which he makes very little quid,
Because of his squid, the disease has spread
The disease that renders our workers dead!!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
And here’s to the Watcher, he’s got a brown-nose,
He tripped down the stairs, and tore up his clothes!
He tore up his clothes, and smeared off that grin,
He may ne’er kiss up to the Despot ag’in!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
And here’s to Hernan, and his profusion of hair,
Which contrary to rumor is simply not there!
His profusion of hair that used to be big
Is now relegated to being a wig!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
Here’s to Pikesfan, Who ran to the door,
And flipped back the latch, and let us all in
He flipped back that latch, he flipped back that latch
To let us all into Madrid’s booby hatch!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
Wassail, Wassail, Wassail, Wassail!
Wassail, Wassail all o’er the town,
Our toast is it white, and our ale it is brown!
Our bowl ‘tis made of the white maple tree,
And with the Wassailing bowl we’ll drink to thee!
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23-12-2002 21:40
why don't we bloody Americans have pub songs like this one? 
Er, pay no attention to that; when I have partaken of the hallucenogenic cactus, I sometimes think I am not Spanish 
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