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I'm Your Fetus, I'm Your Fire

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kinch

kinch

Wash me
This post is primarily about a flaming, tart fetus. But please allow me to introduce how we arrive to this fetus. About one hour ago I found myself in a bad place. I was in my apartment, and I was completely without toilet paper. I, responsibly, an adverb rarely pertinent to my actions, went to the local bodega to get more TP. One song looped on the speakers while I was there. This song's chorus, if I recall correctly, sang, "I'm your Venus, I'm your fire-- your desire."

For whatever reason, I was only able to hear these lyrics as, "I'm your fetus, I'm your fire-- your desire." This was troubling at the outset and, with time, has grown terrifying.

The song is stuck in my head. The fetus remix.

As we all know, obsessing about a song stuck in one's head tends to make the imprint that much stronger and the possibility of the removal of the song from one's brain that much more remote. It can also conjure images, I am now aware.

Images of, for instance, a burning fetus. "I'm your fetus, I'm your fire." Twenty minutes with the song stuck in my mind, and the fetus was now in flames. I was beginning to have an awful hour.

Of course, twenty minutes later, and twenty minutes ago, as the phrase "your desire" began to wrench its way into my mental palette, my hour worsened considerably. Luckily, or perhaps not, my conscience (or is it my subconscious?) had no appropriate image for a desirable fetus. I was left to be haunted by a fetus with lipstick and and evil cherubic face-- a type of demon really, a pre-natal succubus of sorts.

I have to share this as I feel it may help in preventing my rapidly approaching insanity. As I write this, the flaming fetus is doing unspeakable things to the desirable (not so) one. Okay, it really isn't, but now my mind ACK ARGHH. Okay, now it is.

I need help.
 
maybe this will help...

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale
a tale of a fetus trip,
that started from this tropic port,
aboard this tiny ship.
The mate was a mighty sailin' man,
the Skipper brave and sure,
five passengers set sail that day,
for a three hour tour,
a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,
the tiny ship was tossed.
If not for the courage of the fetus crew
the Minnow would be lost.
The Minnow would be lost.

The ship aground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle
with Gilligan,
the Skipper too.
A millionaire and his wife,
a movie star,
the proffessor and Mary Ann,
here on Gilligan's Isle.

(Ending verse)

So this is the tale of our castaways,
there here for a long long time.
They'll have to make the best of things,
it's an uphill climb.
The first mate and his Skipper too
will do their very best,
to make the others comf'terble
in their tropic island nest.
No phone ,no lights, no motor car,
not a single luxury
like Robinson Crusoe
it's primitive as can be.
So join us here each week my fetus,
you're sure to get a smile,
from seven stranded castaways
here on Gilligan's Isle!
 
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or maybe this...

A fetus wakes up one morning only to realize he's in the process of being aborted. The fetus looks at the doctor and asks, "What the hell are you doing?" The doctor turns to the patient and says, "Don't worry, not all of them are this stupid."

or this...

So Barbara Boxer, Ted Kennedy, Hillary Clinton and a fetus are playing golf.
Clinton puts the fetus on top of the tee, grabs a driver and goes
into her backswing.
"Hold it," says Boxer. "You need a three-wood!"

and finally...

Barbara Boxer, Ted Kennedy, Hillary Clinton and a fetus go to heaven
and meet St Peter at the gates.
They each give their names, except the fetus, who just says, "Fetus."
St Peter checks his paperwork. "You're not human," he says. So Boxer
goes to hell.
 
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kinch;885150; said:
Ah, the song gone, a day later, and I can laugh at fetus jokes again.

Heh.

Fetuses are funny.

Ha!
Click to expand...

I find this thread shocking and it leaves me blue to read of such silliness. :shake:

On a somewhat (sort of, maybe?) related note, I listened to a particular Simon & Garfunkel album repeatedly while studying for an exam that, in part, covered the handling of dissolution of partnerships. Now everytime I hear the song So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright, I hear the lyrics as "Partnerships may come....partnerships may go....".

It ruined a perfectly good song for me.

EDIT - wow....what kind of pathetic loser am I? Even my fake lyrics are nerdy and lame. :smash:
 
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205_nurse_outmaface.gif


"Conjoined Fetus Woman -The Dedication Song"

 You got the strength,
You got the courage,
Even with a dead fetus on yo' head,
You carry on,
You fight for tomorrow,
A dead fetus know,
You never let go,
You're my conjoined twin--dead thing hanging off yo' head woman.


(One of the more disturbing episodes of South Park!)
 
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This is the greatest thing about BuckeyePlanet. No matter how twisted I think I am in "real" life, I can be comforted by the fact that, here, I am just another normal citizen.

An illustration:

Real Life scale:

(more normal)|------------|------[me]----|(more twisted)

BP scale:

(more normal)|-----[me]-------|----------|(more twisted)
 
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