NUMBSAIN'S IRATE

CHRISTMAS CAROLS


A Christmas Wrong
Sung to the tune of “A Christmas Song”
(y'know “chestnuts roasting...” that one.)

Un-em-ploy-ment at an all time high,
health care costs you up the nose,
You’ll be dead in a week if your fired,
and the bank is ready to fore-close, More fi-nan-cial

woes. No tur-key and no mis-tle-toe,
Had to hock the fa-mi-ly.
I won’t buy an-y-one any gifts,
and they damn sure won’t buy one for me.

Be-cause the coun-try’s in the hole,
a-bout a mil-lion bil-lion dol-lars Bushit stole,
Now every mo-thers child is gon-na cry.
I’d love to see those gree-dy bas-tards fry.

And so I’m home-less and with-out a dime,
not like back in nine-ty two,
Those re-pub-li-can pigs screwed us all up the ass,
Bush & Che-ney: Fuck You.

Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!
Sung to the tune of "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"

Oh the pres-sure is get-ting strong-er,
Can't hold it too much long-er.
If I can't find any place to go
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Oh the ques-tion right now is whe-ther...
I can keep my knees to-ge-ther...
Till I find some place to go...
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Well I guess I drank too much beer...
So just stop by the side of the road.
Or I might have to go right here;
my blad-der's about to ex-plode.

I can feel my-self start to weak-en
I think I might be leak-in'
I need to find a place to go...
Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow, Yel-low Snow!

Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town
sung to the tune of "Santa Claus IS Coming to Town"

You need-n't watch out,
You might as well cry,
I'm not kis-sing all my mo-ney good-bye,
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

The corp'-rate rip-offs...
Ain't get-tin' a dime.
Ain't spend-ing all my mo-ney this time,
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

It's not about re-li-gion, a ho-ly day, in-deed,
They use our kids to guilt trip us and to sa-tis-fy their greed.

This ho-li-day crap...
Is all a big scam.
And frank-ly my dear, I don't give a damn.
San-ta Claus Ain't Com-ing to Town.

Written by numbsain...Ho, ho, ho, gitcha bitch asses all up in heah youz hos!

Fashion Faux Paws—Road Kill: All the Rage!

numbsain presents


Howdy Holler-Day Shoppers!
I'm Jiblitz!
And I'm Gravy!
We're Grablitz and Jibbly er, Jablitz and Gribbly... (Jam it Grablitz!)

Jiblitz: And today we're here to stand up and make ya Holler-days about a squa-jillion times easier with some blew-it-yer-self,
ex-mess gift eye-deers that'll git them li'l plate-lickers so excited they'll pee in their poop-jay's and just start ricky-shayin' off the walls like bumblebees in a nuke-ro-wave oven!

Gravy: Ooh-weevils, Taint no bow to doubt it, Jib, and it ain't gonna cost ya a hot squat on a porty-pot neither. Cuz we manufabricate everything outta common extra-ordin-every-day items.

Jiblitz: You shed a mouseful there, Gravy', Santa's little heifers ain't got skaddle on us.

Gravy: Today we're gwine to show-n'-tell ya how ta make a fashion mistake-ment outta unlucky jaywalkin' varmints who, through no asphalt o' their own, wound up squarshed under the wheel o' misfortune while trying to live life in the oncoming lane. Ahm talkin' about "Road-kill" "Tread Leather" "Pavement Patch Pets."

Jiblitz: I wish we could say: "No animals were harmed in the makin' of these products" but
in fact, they're 100% harmed animals! Hyuk Hyuk!

Gravy: Only the strong survive and the meek shall be imbedded in the earth! it's all part o' natural see-lection on Jiblitz and Gravy's Wild Kingdom!

Jiblitz: Brp brp brp brrrrrr-drp, Brp brp brp brp, br-drp...

Gravy: Besides, they don't feel pain the way we do...I mean, It hurts but it's a good kind o' hurt. Now did ya scrape us up some street-thins, Jib?

Jiblitz: Ah squirtin'ly did! Just feast yer thighs on this corn-u-copious distortment of asphalt huggers, pat as a flan-cake and stiffened in the noon-day-sun since Sunday noon. Here's a blob-cat, a spread eagle, Looky here! This skunk still gots every hair, but flatter!

Gravy: Flattery will git you every hair!

Jiblitz: Aw... Gawd-Blangit, Gravy! It's McNuggets! She was a damn good layer...

Gravy: She's a thin layer now.

Jiblitz: Now WHY did that chicken cross the road?

Gravy: This is no time fer joking, Jiblitz. Here's a little finch, hot off the grill...

Jiblitz: This is no time fer dinner, Gravy.

Gravy: I meant the grill o' my truck. Whattaya think was the last thing that went through his mind?

Jiblitz: His asshole...

Gravy: You kiss yer cousin with that mouth?

Jiblitz: Only if she's wearin' one o' these!

Gravy: And PRESS-TOE! the Beaver Cleavage Bra!

Jiblitz: And we done it in no time ‘flat.’ Hey Gravy! Lookit what else ah made!

Gravy: Whoa! PERVALERT! Put yer trousers back on Jiblitz!

Jiblitz: Does this cat make mah ass look fat?

Gravy: Spank cod we're outta time

WE'RE JIBLITZ & GRAVY! WE'RE INBREDNECKS BUT AT LEAST WE'RE NOT RELATED!

MERRY FELIZCHRISTMASHANNUKWANZAA an' a Happy Añonuevo-Tet-Passover-Lent-Ramadan...
Jiblitz: Did we leave anybody out?

Gravy: I hope not Jib, ya can't have whirled peas unless ya get 'em all whirled in.

Jiblitz and Gravy was brought to you by
Mystery Meat Jerky Surprise® and
The Law Offices of Gowen, Gowen, Gowen, & Gawn and by
Ostracizer Food Resuscitator ...Bringing food back to life!

NUMBSAIN'S IRATE CHRISTMAS CAROLS

Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!
Sung to the tune of "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"

Oh the pressure is getting stronger,
Can't hold it too much longer.
If I can't find any place to go
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!

Oh the question right now is whether...
I can keep my knees together...
Till I find some place to go...
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!

Well I guess I drank too much beer...
So just stop by the side of the road.
Or I might have to go right here;
my bladder's about to explode.

I can feel myself start to weaken
I think I might be leakin'
I need to find a place to go...
Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow, Yellow Snow!



Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town
sung to the tune of "Santa Claus IS Coming to Town"

You needn't watch out,
You might as well cry,
I'm not kissing all my money goodbye,
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.

The corp'rate ripoffs...
Ain't gettin' a dime.
Ain't spending all my money this time,
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.

It's not about religion, a holy day, indeed,
They use our kids to guilt trip us and to satisfy their greed.

This holiday crap...
Is all a big scam.
And frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Santa Claus Ain't Coming to Town.



Driving Like You Have the Right of Way
Sung to the tune of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland"

On the phone going 80... in your shiny new Mercedes,
Pedestrians run... you just hit one,
Driving like you have the right of way.

Almost cause... a collision...cause you're watching television,
You rear end a cop... don't even stop...
Driving like you have the right of way.

Someones turning left on a green arrow,
You don't even have the right of way,
But your tunnel vision is so narrow,
You go first and think that it's okay.

In your car... at the market... looking for a place to park it,
Though spaces are few, you straddle two,
Driving like you have the right of way.