-> "Vox Stylin' (for Agrimorfee)"
Original Song Title:
Parody Song Title:
"Vox Stylin' (for Agrimorfee)"
1st Linguist: Cash for to advertise, cash for to hoodwink.
3rd Linguist: Cache, where the con man's hid, cache for his records.
1st Linguist: Cash to get Nancy's vote.
2nd Linguist: Cask cracked his noggin, because he used to swig firkins.
3rd Linguist: Cash from the dickheads, cant from the Dummy John. Cash from the crackers and the hicks who can't read a paper.
4th Linguist: Look, howdayatalk? Howdayatalk? Howdayatalk? Howdayatalk? Howdayatalk?
5th Linguist: Alliteration.
4th Linguist: Howdayatalk?
1st Linguist: When ya talk, when ya talk, it's allit'rative when ya talk; allit'rative when ya talk. It sounds dilettantish, it does.
Chomsky: Yeah, it does, yeah, it does; but we're trying to teach the Terror Tory.
Sybillant [sic] Serpent (Cheney): Ssssssssssssssssssss.
3rd Linguist: Why it's the whole-language horde made the trouble. Made the poor kid not know, wanta phonet up, phone it in, not know if there's seven, eight, nine, ten twelve, fourteen, twenty-six letters in the alpabete.
1st Linguist: What, sir? What, sir?
3rd Linguist: Has to be patronized; a little-bitty, 'bout 84, was his IQ score.
4th Linguist: Howdoeshetalk? Howdoeshetalk?
5th Linguist: Like he's from Texas.
3rd Linguist: Fawns, fawns, fawns. Fawns on the godhead—tapped the Dummy John. Fawns to the crackers, beer-lulled—pickled Darryls. Brain pan—gone though the Shrub went to Yale, where he cheered.
2nd Linguist: We're going to have to give the fellow some drills?
3rd Linguist: Drills?
4th Linguist: Drills?
5th Linguist: Drills?
4th Linguist: We'll have to give him practice and drill.
2nd Linguist: So what does he know, the Terror Tory?
1st Linguist: Some call him the "Error Tory."
3rd Linguist: Make him say some lines?
2nd Linguist: It'll take much more than lines.
1st Linguist: Would help if he had a mind.
2nd Linguist: It's a bad noggin. He cannot keep the beat, tells something, words fall, talks slow, redneck rappin', slips up things, every time a bullshit salesman. That is him upon the Hill, upon the Hill.
3rd Linguist: That's what you opine?
5th Linguist: All opine.
Chomsky: He can't make talk, and he's a bumbling Terror Tory.
4th Linguist: He can't talk? Can't talk the talk? Can he walk the walk? Cakewalk in Iraq?
2nd Linguist: He's aphasic, man.
1st Linguist: He can't talk?
3rd Linguist: He can't talk?
2nd Linguist: Near-aphasic man. He can't spell, either, yet—like a kid who's the clown who gives a big groan when the SAT comes—dumbass, dumbass, dumbass. And he picks his nose, he picks his nose. Wore a uniform, too. Whiny—a silver spoon in his mouth. And a yellow stripe runnin'. . . .
1st Linguist: Well, I do believe he's a scam, but you know we're here to be givin' him bons mots, yes sir. Mandibles tricked, perhaps, is why he doesn't sound smart.
2nd Linguist: No cerebellum's been banged, big-banged. I know he is a dull wit, but he lives like a king with no allies. And he dithers; he f*cks up, and whines. And he took some chances, certainly. Ploys. What else? He'll pay the piper. Yes sirs, yes sirs, yes sirs, yes sirs. We'll take our chances. Blurtingly, noise. . .we'll make him pipe up so folks understand him. Yes, sirs!
Chomsky: But he doesn't know sh*t. . .Error Tory!
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|How Funny: ||4.2|
|Overall Rating: ||4.2|
|Total Votes: ||5|
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