Mother Goose On Drugs

NSFW for innuendo

I do miss Rocky, Bullwinkle, and E. E. Horton

The way I heard it was…

Ol Momma Hubbard sped to her cupboard
  To get a joint from her stash.
But once’t she was there, she commenced to stare,
  She’d forgot what had caused her to dash.

Libidinous Jack Horner away from home corner,
  Partook of Sue Tuffet’s whey.
Dan Tuffet came back; he promptly caught Jack,
  And Jack is still healing today.

Peter, Peter punkin eater,
  Had a mistress, dint mistreat her.
He tried to take her punkin shell,
  She beat poor Peter all to hell.

Jackson Dill stopped by the jail,
  To post poor Jillie’s bail.
While Jack stood there, the cops took a look,
  Then at Jackson the bulls threw the book.

They once was a woman who lived in Mizzou,
  Had so many wee ones – good golly, a slew!
The social worker, by name Jeffrey Hicks,
  Convinced her was hubby they needed to fix.

Jack Sprat chewed the fat,
  With his neighbor Ricardo Mancini.
But really here’s what kept them at that –
  They was watching the neighbor’s bikini.

Opening lines (or nearly so) revisited

Hubble spyglass up so far,
  Can you tell me what I are?

Hark the Raven…
  “Whatever.”

Mares eat oats and goats eat oats,
  Don’t drop trou in poison ivy.

Four an twenny blackbirds baked into a pie.
  There’s a baker out now looking for a job.

Fee fum fo fie, upset stomach, me, oh, my!
  Ain’t the gin or vermouth – I suspect it’s bad olives.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, both a little batty.
  Them two boys, still looking hard, to determine who’s their daddy.

Butcher Baker and Cannel Snickmaker, two dudes sitting a tub.
  Gotta wonder if they remembered the soap for their scrub?

Ole King Koal was a merry old soul.
  Otherwise, he was okay.

Humpy Dumpy sat on wall, and yup, he lost his hold.
  He was three eggs short an omelet, is what I been told.

© S P Wilcenski 2020
Originally on Prose in redacted form 7/16/2020

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