David Bourke

Anagrammy Awards > Literary Archives > David Bourke

Original text in yellow, anagram in pink.

Jabberwocky, by Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

'And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

'Twas high midnight, and so the alt.anagrams mob,
Did each gem shuffle on the net.
Tee hee! Such wild wild wwwhimsy all around the world!
Heh heh! Maximum joy? Oh god, you'd best bet!

But beware that cunninglinguist Jon Gearhart's rhymes,
Richard G. and his baby Linda's sweetheart-double-act.
Both the frivolous Larrybrash and that Meyran Kraus,
Both the GB Janets. (B and M, in fact).

See that William Tunstall-Pedoe, who, with his software,
By PC, he'd worked-out that "One two" = "Neo, wot?"
Shock hot news? Tom M.? Tom, he's just your man!
Daniel F. Etter? - Oh, he's just not forgot!

By jove! Beware that scabby M.J. Tully boy,
He often came as he logged on-line to talk,
To Martin W. Rand, both the D. Fortiers,
And db - that foulmouthed gobshite David Bourke.

E. Guiraldes, E. Jones, Len Richards, Letterman,
Bible-Bashing Brodie, M. Keith, each hail Hale!
Check the Anagrammy website - Oh god! How bitchy, hmm?
Boy, we've big egos! We'd have each visage pale.

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Goosey, goosey gander,
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who would not say his prayers;
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.

A hand helps me yet...
Now who shall I roger?
In whose messy orifice,
May I slam my hard old todger?
Whose brown and dirty rear-ends,
Shall I, shan't I take tonight?
It's your own behind!
Spurt away... ass so damned tight!

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Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full;
One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.

Larry Brash, Larry Brash,
Have you any wool?
"That I find,
On the end of me tool.
I'd fuck a lamb's fanny,
See that wee ewe?
Bleeding nob-tease!
(Love sheep's arsehole too!)"

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Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs
In his nightgown.
Rapping at the windows,
Crying through the lock,
"Are the children all in bed?
For it's now eight o'clock."

Willie Wristrider surfs away,
Looking at weird porn.
Logs-on with a hard-on,
Tugging on his horn.
With which, raising it,
- See the wanker glop.
Hence, he went blind,
(The thick cunt couldn't stop!)

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Taffy was a Welshman,
Taffy was a thief;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a piece of beef.

I went to Taffy's house,
Taffy was not home;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a mutton bone.

I went to Taffy's house,
Taffy was not in;
Taffy came to my house
And stole a silver pin.

I went to Taffy's house,
Taffy was in bed;
I took up a poker
And threw it at his head.

Taffy was a mean Welshman,
So Taffy, natch, fucked sheep.
Taffy'd come inside one's anus,
In a preference to Bo Peep.

Taffy, he'd stuff animals,
Oh, Taff's ways were too, too iffy.
Taffy went about the valley,
Out with his famous stiffy.

Now Taffy'd hate to eat tuna,
"Away! Away, woman!" (No mott, see).
To satisfy, in a shoot-out,
He'd make the most of bestiality.

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Updated: May 10, 2016


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