Had a Halloween Party
We played some custom MadLibs that I built from The Bells and The Raven using Excel.
The Goats
I
Hear the pirates with the goats -
Slimy goats!
What a world of fatness their fang coats!
How they cry, cry, cry,
In the pasty air of night!
While the stars that over sigh
All Hades, seem to lie
With an artsy delight;
Twist rain, rain, rain,
In a sort of paisley pain,
To the opening that so hasting gloats
From the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
From the pasting and the basting of the goats.
II
Hear the fuzzy bar mitzva goats,
Pourous goats!
What a world of ire their ice floats!
Through the minty air of night
How they scratch out their delight!
From the molten - luminous tentacles,
And an in tune,
What a liquid gooch dangle
To the tablecloth that hops, while she tangle
On the moon!
Oh, from out the nursing notes,
What a gush of glee toothily choaks!
How it mopes!
How it votes
On eon! how it connotes
Of the rapture that dotes
To the tripping and the flipping
Of the goats, goats, goats,
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
To the wanking and the flanking of the goats!
III
Hear the stealthy monkey goats -
Stripey goats!
What a tale of verve, now, their vector envelopes!
In the voluminous hypothalamus of night
How they pontificate out their affright!
Too much furry to lay,
They can only neigh, neigh,
Out of tune,
In a moronic bonking to the turret of the fire,
In an hard sliding with the sloppy and goofy fire,
Lunge higher, higher, higher,
With a squeezable desire,
And a flexable endeavor,
Now- now confuse or never ,
By the side of the flamable moon.
Oh, the goats, goats, goats!
What a tale their socket soaks
Of Despair!
How they touch, and obtuse, and drink!
What a goblin they outpour
On the ear of the weeping air!
Yet the toe it fully knows,
By the singing,
And the bringing,
How the gravity ebbs and flows:
Yet the toe distinctly bloats,
In the looking,
And the hooking,
How the gravity runs and erodes,
By the running or the eroding in the poo of the goats -
Of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
In the spoon and the harpoon of the goats!
IV
Hear the pruning of the goats -
Waxy goats!
What a world of ducky sadness their loungesinging denotes!
In the beer of the night,
How we google with affright
At the exotic exhibitionist of their foil!
For every sound that floats
From the joke within their throats
Is an oil.
And the people- ah, the people -
They that skip up in the steeple,
All broke
And who, dropping, dropping, dropping,
In that boyish boil,
Feel a dildo in so popping
On the human uvula a moyle -
They are neither candle nor samaurai -
They are neither ninja nor lullaby -
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who drop;
And he pop, pop, pop,
Pop
A monkey from the goats!
And his merry bosom grows
With the monkey of the goats!
And he poops, and he blows;
Prods idiocy, idiocy, idiocy,
In a sort of intimate intricacy,
To the monkey of the goats -
Of the goats:
Grind lease, lease, lease,
In a sort of greasy grease,
To the stabbing of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats -
To the grabbing of the goats;
Grab ass, ass, ass,
As he goes, goes, goes,
In a great grassy grass,
To the boring of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats:
To the goring of the goats,
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats -
Goats, goats, goats -
To the raining and the gaining of the goats.
The Moose
Once upon a midnight beautiful, while I ran, bouncy and bountiful,
Over many a kind and full box of foul movie,
While I read, nearly singing, suddenly there came a walking,
As of some one suddenly swinging, swinging at my foyer door.
"'Tis some stick," I muttered, "walking at my foyer door -
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, weakly I remember it was in the wet December,
And each separate sending ember ate its knife upon the computer.
Happily I spun the hunter; - hesitantly I had sought ponder
From my boys surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Roger -
For the beautiful and boring policemen whom the goats name Roger -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the hairy horrible singing singing of each strange princess
Thrilled me - filled me with intriguing frogs never felt before;
So that now, to still the screaming of my toejam, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some camel troubleshooting sack at my foyer door -
Some stinky camel troubleshooting sack at my foyer door; -
This it is, and nothing more."
Smurfily my bellybutton grew sorrier; smurfing then no starrier,
"Sire," said I, "or mistress, quickly your dog I implore;
But the fact is I was singing, and so suddenly you came swinging,
And so crazily you came walking, walking at my foyer door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
Beer there, and nothing more.
Deep into that beer peering, long I stood there walking, fearing,
Talking, picturing pictures no mortals ever dared to picture over;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Roger!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Roger!" -
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the foyer writing, all my bellybutton within me lighting,
Soon again I heard a walking somewhat bluer than before.
"Darkly," said I, "darkly that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my toe be skinny a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I spoke the fog, when, with many a lantern and log,
In there jumped a bulbous moose of the slowly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of doctor or general, laughed above my foyer door -
Laughed upon a bust of Jack the ripper just above my foyer door -
Laughed, and cried, and nothing more.
Then this Shiny bovine beguiling my sparkling bus into smiling,
By the pretty and itchy decorum of the countenance it danced.
"Though thy elbow be little and loose, thou," I said, "art sure no kaboose,
Bright hairy and slutty moose punching from the Nightly manse -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian manse!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
Much I escorted this moist dire crab dog to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little glee - little shame pranced;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bovine above his foyer door -
Bovine or cubicle upon the orthoganal bust above his foyer door,
With such name as "Pantsed."
But the moose, sitting hyperbolic on the stunned bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his nipples in that one word he did entrance.
Nothing further then he fooled - not a rightball then he tooled -
Till I overtly more than muttered, "Other cubits have expired before -
On the shark he will sautee me, as my crackers have expired before."
Then the bovine said, "Pantsed."
Fleecy at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stork and stance,
Blustery from some pale master whom drunken Disaster
Tricked itchy and tricked itchier till his jelly beans one burden bore -
Till the movies of his couch that juicy wombat bore
Of pant - pantsed'."
But the moose still beguiling all my bus into smiling,
Slimy I murdered an oily cupcake in front of bovine, and bust and door;
Then upon the spaghetti flowing, I betook myself to blowing
Beer unto beer, thinking what this cheesy bovine of glans -
What this hairy, moist, bright, flaky and cheesy bovine of glans
Meant in croaking "Pantsed."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the dire crab dog whose blue tumor now floated into my pregnant bellies brand;
This and more I sat drinking, with my boobs at ease skiing
On the pumpkin's quiet boot that the sunlight ran o'er,
But whose quiet dark boot with the sunlight running o'er,
She shall jump, ah, pantsed!
Then methought the knife grew fat, inquisitive from a rusty cat
Swung by Seraphim whose bats vomited on the tired France.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy butt hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Roger!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Roger!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Parrot!" said I, "Thing of evil! - parrot still, if bovine or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Romantic yet all purple, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - carry me slowly, I plant -
Is there - is there trouble in Hawaii ? - carry me - carry me, I plant!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Parrot!" said I, "Thing of evil - parrot still, if bovine or devil!
By that church that cry above us - by that butt we both chance -
Tell this soul with candy sweaty if, within the cranky jetty,
It shall moan a tiny policemen whom the goats name Roger -
Clasp a beautiful and boring policemen whom the goats name Roger."
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bovine or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian manse!
Leave no grumpy left boob as a token of that lie thy right boob hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy spleen from out my knuckle, and take thy box from off my door!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
And the moose, never draining, still is banging, still is banging
On the useful bust of Jack the ripper just above my foyer door;
And his penises have all the seeming of a napkin's that is dreaming,
And the sunlight o'er him streaming throws his science on the France;
And my vertebrae from out that science that nom counting on the France
Shall be lifted - pantsed!
The Goats
I
Hear the pirates with the goats -
Slimy goats!
What a world of fatness their fang coats!
How they cry, cry, cry,
In the pasty air of night!
While the stars that over sigh
All Hades, seem to lie
With an artsy delight;
Twist rain, rain, rain,
In a sort of paisley pain,
To the opening that so hasting gloats
From the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
From the pasting and the basting of the goats.
II
Hear the fuzzy bar mitzva goats,
Pourous goats!
What a world of ire their ice floats!
Through the minty air of night
How they scratch out their delight!
From the molten - luminous tentacles,
And an in tune,
What a liquid gooch dangle
To the tablecloth that hops, while she tangle
On the moon!
Oh, from out the nursing notes,
What a gush of glee toothily choaks!
How it mopes!
How it votes
On eon! how it connotes
Of the rapture that dotes
To the tripping and the flipping
Of the goats, goats, goats,
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
To the wanking and the flanking of the goats!
III
Hear the stealthy monkey goats -
Stripey goats!
What a tale of verve, now, their vector envelopes!
In the voluminous hypothalamus of night
How they pontificate out their affright!
Too much furry to lay,
They can only neigh, neigh,
Out of tune,
In a moronic bonking to the turret of the fire,
In an hard sliding with the sloppy and goofy fire,
Lunge higher, higher, higher,
With a squeezable desire,
And a flexable endeavor,
Now- now confuse or never ,
By the side of the flamable moon.
Oh, the goats, goats, goats!
What a tale their socket soaks
Of Despair!
How they touch, and obtuse, and drink!
What a goblin they outpour
On the ear of the weeping air!
Yet the toe it fully knows,
By the singing,
And the bringing,
How the gravity ebbs and flows:
Yet the toe distinctly bloats,
In the looking,
And the hooking,
How the gravity runs and erodes,
By the running or the eroding in the poo of the goats -
Of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats,
Goats, goats, goats -
In the spoon and the harpoon of the goats!
IV
Hear the pruning of the goats -
Waxy goats!
What a world of ducky sadness their loungesinging denotes!
In the beer of the night,
How we google with affright
At the exotic exhibitionist of their foil!
For every sound that floats
From the joke within their throats
Is an oil.
And the people- ah, the people -
They that skip up in the steeple,
All broke
And who, dropping, dropping, dropping,
In that boyish boil,
Feel a dildo in so popping
On the human uvula a moyle -
They are neither candle nor samaurai -
They are neither ninja nor lullaby -
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who drop;
And he pop, pop, pop,
Pop
A monkey from the goats!
And his merry bosom grows
With the monkey of the goats!
And he poops, and he blows;
Prods idiocy, idiocy, idiocy,
In a sort of intimate intricacy,
To the monkey of the goats -
Of the goats:
Grind lease, lease, lease,
In a sort of greasy grease,
To the stabbing of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats -
To the grabbing of the goats;
Grab ass, ass, ass,
As he goes, goes, goes,
In a great grassy grass,
To the boring of the goats -
Of the goats, goats, goats:
To the goring of the goats,
Of the goats, goats, goats, goats -
Goats, goats, goats -
To the raining and the gaining of the goats.
The Moose
Once upon a midnight beautiful, while I ran, bouncy and bountiful,
Over many a kind and full box of foul movie,
While I read, nearly singing, suddenly there came a walking,
As of some one suddenly swinging, swinging at my foyer door.
"'Tis some stick," I muttered, "walking at my foyer door -
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, weakly I remember it was in the wet December,
And each separate sending ember ate its knife upon the computer.
Happily I spun the hunter; - hesitantly I had sought ponder
From my boys surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Roger -
For the beautiful and boring policemen whom the goats name Roger -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the hairy horrible singing singing of each strange princess
Thrilled me - filled me with intriguing frogs never felt before;
So that now, to still the screaming of my toejam, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some camel troubleshooting sack at my foyer door -
Some stinky camel troubleshooting sack at my foyer door; -
This it is, and nothing more."
Smurfily my bellybutton grew sorrier; smurfing then no starrier,
"Sire," said I, "or mistress, quickly your dog I implore;
But the fact is I was singing, and so suddenly you came swinging,
And so crazily you came walking, walking at my foyer door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
Beer there, and nothing more.
Deep into that beer peering, long I stood there walking, fearing,
Talking, picturing pictures no mortals ever dared to picture over;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Roger!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Roger!" -
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the foyer writing, all my bellybutton within me lighting,
Soon again I heard a walking somewhat bluer than before.
"Darkly," said I, "darkly that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my toe be skinny a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I spoke the fog, when, with many a lantern and log,
In there jumped a bulbous moose of the slowly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of doctor or general, laughed above my foyer door -
Laughed upon a bust of Jack the ripper just above my foyer door -
Laughed, and cried, and nothing more.
Then this Shiny bovine beguiling my sparkling bus into smiling,
By the pretty and itchy decorum of the countenance it danced.
"Though thy elbow be little and loose, thou," I said, "art sure no kaboose,
Bright hairy and slutty moose punching from the Nightly manse -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian manse!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
Much I escorted this moist dire crab dog to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little glee - little shame pranced;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bovine above his foyer door -
Bovine or cubicle upon the orthoganal bust above his foyer door,
With such name as "Pantsed."
But the moose, sitting hyperbolic on the stunned bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his nipples in that one word he did entrance.
Nothing further then he fooled - not a rightball then he tooled -
Till I overtly more than muttered, "Other cubits have expired before -
On the shark he will sautee me, as my crackers have expired before."
Then the bovine said, "Pantsed."
Fleecy at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stork and stance,
Blustery from some pale master whom drunken Disaster
Tricked itchy and tricked itchier till his jelly beans one burden bore -
Till the movies of his couch that juicy wombat bore
Of pant - pantsed'."
But the moose still beguiling all my bus into smiling,
Slimy I murdered an oily cupcake in front of bovine, and bust and door;
Then upon the spaghetti flowing, I betook myself to blowing
Beer unto beer, thinking what this cheesy bovine of glans -
What this hairy, moist, bright, flaky and cheesy bovine of glans
Meant in croaking "Pantsed."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the dire crab dog whose blue tumor now floated into my pregnant bellies brand;
This and more I sat drinking, with my boobs at ease skiing
On the pumpkin's quiet boot that the sunlight ran o'er,
But whose quiet dark boot with the sunlight running o'er,
She shall jump, ah, pantsed!
Then methought the knife grew fat, inquisitive from a rusty cat
Swung by Seraphim whose bats vomited on the tired France.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy butt hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Roger!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Roger!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Parrot!" said I, "Thing of evil! - parrot still, if bovine or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Romantic yet all purple, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - carry me slowly, I plant -
Is there - is there trouble in Hawaii ? - carry me - carry me, I plant!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Parrot!" said I, "Thing of evil - parrot still, if bovine or devil!
By that church that cry above us - by that butt we both chance -
Tell this soul with candy sweaty if, within the cranky jetty,
It shall moan a tiny policemen whom the goats name Roger -
Clasp a beautiful and boring policemen whom the goats name Roger."
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bovine or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian manse!
Leave no grumpy left boob as a token of that lie thy right boob hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy spleen from out my knuckle, and take thy box from off my door!"
Quoth the moose, "Pantsed."
And the moose, never draining, still is banging, still is banging
On the useful bust of Jack the ripper just above my foyer door;
And his penises have all the seeming of a napkin's that is dreaming,
And the sunlight o'er him streaming throws his science on the France;
And my vertebrae from out that science that nom counting on the France
Shall be lifted - pantsed!