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[personal profile] brandywine28
Alright, so. Last summer? When my mother was still pretty much bedbound and we were stuck doing the bedpan thing? I was stressed and loopy from lack of sleep and she was stressed and loopy from too much sleep -- and also extremely embarrassed at having to piss in a plastic tray -- so I started doing this...thing. To make her laugh.

Semi-relatedly, does anyone know the Boar's Head Carol? It's a Tudor-era madrigal about boar-eating, but also, somehow, Christmas? Very officious, very majestical, and -- here, I'll just show you:



Now, I know what you're all thinking. "Jess, you absolutely rewrote this song and made it about bedpans, didn't you? Didn't you??" And to that, I say: you guys know me so well. That's exactly what I did. And every time she needed to pee -- every single time -- I did a little ceremonial march into the room, holding the bedpan high over my head with both hands, singing it in the closest thing to a baritone my voice will allow.

It never stopped being funny. An evergreen bit.

My lyrics were vulgar, but not terrible! I came up with a successful rhyme for "piss bucket" -- and not even the one you'd think! Anyway, I hadn't thought about that in months, and then I remembered it just now and almost choked on my own tongue. Still funny.

*

Oh!! Oh, my God! Speaking of seasonal musical atrocities...has anyone here ever heard of Dominick the Donkey? I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess no, because even though this thing was ubiquitous throughout my childhood (they played it on Adult FM radio, for Christ's sake!) I discovered four or five years ago that it is apparently HIGHLY regional. I was shocked! But it's true; if you didn't grow up in New Jersey, the NYC Metro area, or, I guess, the more commuter-y parts of Connecticut? You probably don't know it. Sperrywink doesn't, and her hometown isn't really that far from mine! (But I can almost certainly guarantee that Joey Fatone does.)



Oh, did I forget to mention that it's EAR POISON? You're welcome! I dealt with it as a kid, but now in my old age, I am become George Costanza in the Festivus episode; those opening strains make me stand up and leave. Go wherever my feet wanna carry me. Just away -- away from that little Italian donkey.

This has been my post about niche Christmas jams, I guess. Thank you and good night.

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