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Chanticleer
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YAUNDICED YOBBER --Ogden Nash Rooster Yobber, yobber, sentimental Your charm to you is detrimental Fandom's wags have worn you ragged More so than "She's" H. Rider Hagged How sad 'tmust be to was a yobber Your name's misuse must make you slobber Till you are forced to seek nepenthe In bathtub gin or creme-de-menthe You can't escape the heinous horde That dash off stuff that leaves you borde They use your name in their inanities But good for one thing -- wiping canities Their hunks of stuff are often lemons Resembling drooling delerium tremens They vent on you their paranoias And shout 'Gosh wow oboyoboyas' They speak of you, these minds unstable In tongues unknown at the "Tower of Babel" Yes, even you're spelled with so-called finesse You poor thing, it makes you resemble an ess They flaunt your name, dead serious, or jocular And often you're mentioned, in the vernocular Your name is used in the Cosmic Circle Without permission, by that damn jerkle Some of these creatures think they're Napoleon But really they're no more than my end's Æolian Their magazines are oft times rotten The whole darn mess should be verbotten Yes, yobber, I pity thee, made decrepid By droolings of fans, so foully insepid Your life so fair is being ruined By adolescents with minds off-tuined They spend their time making plans gargantuan That no sane person would even mantuan They act, and think, they're sophisticated When, really, they're just pixilated Yes yobber true, oh friend indeed For you, oh love, my heart doth bleed Fear not, beloved, your height's Olympian And flen are merely simple dripian
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YAUNDICED YOBBER --Ogden Nash Rooster Yobber, yobber, sentimental Your charm to you is detrimental Fandom's wags have worn you ragged More so than "She's" H. Rider Hagged How sad 'tmust be to was a yobber Your name's misuse must make you slobber Till you are forced to seek nepenthe In bathtub gin or creme-de-menthe You can't escape the heinous horde That dash off stuff that leaves you borde They use your name in their inanities But good for one thing -- wiping canities Their hunks of stuff are often lemons Resembling drooling delerium tremens They vent on you their paranoias And shout 'Gosh wow oboyoboyas' They speak of you, these minds unstable In tongues unknown at the "Tower of Babel" Yes, even you're spelled with so-called finesse You poor thing, it makes you resemble an ess They flaunt your name, dead serious, or jocular And often you're mentioned, in the vernocular Your name is used in the Cosmic Circle Without permission, by that damn jerkle Some of these creatures think they're Napoleon But really they're no more than my end's Æolian Their magazines are oft times rotten The whole darn mess should be verbotten Yes, yobber, I pity thee, made decrepid By droolings of fans, so foully insepid Your life so fair is being ruined By adolescents with minds off-tuined They spend their time making plans gargantuan That no sane person would even mantuan They act, and think, they're sophisticated When, really, they're just pixilated Yes yobber true, oh friend indeed For you, oh love, my heart doth bleed Fear not, beloved, your height's Olympian And flen are merely simple dripian
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