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Jambalaya is exactly how you remember life at your own school—the school mascot died sort of tragically, and then so did the next mascot; 4th grade recess devolved into a...
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Jambalaya is exactly how you remember life at your own school—the school mascot died sort of tragically, and then so did the next mascot; 4th grade recess devolved into a gang war, fulfilling an ancient prophecy etched into the bottom of the playground slide; the kindergarten classroom caught fire, marking the 8th year-in-a-row—the usual stuff you repressed from your chilhood. Updates from Jambalaya come monthly in the form of a written newsletter that is then read aloud to listeners keeping up on everything Jambalaya.
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20 OTT 2024 · It's so great that Gerald Fitzgerald has been ressurected and is aimlessly wandering around campus! Mr. Manadult was not who he/they appeared to be. The toilet situation is crappy—pun unfortunately intended. It's plastic bag awareness month; students, prepare yourselves for a three-hour mandatory lecture on safety when cinching. Don't accept the wrapper-less caramels from Drewann McDermott's pockets. Better yet, don't make eye contact. Music by David Petty @ https://davidpetty.bandcamp.com Additional writing on Fist Formers Only was done by Julian Bucklin and Sammy City. Check out my https://impotentsatyr.com Vice Principal Mr. Jonesandmi's song this month is The Way I Heat Your Meal, a parody of Michael Jackson's The Way You Make Me Feel. Lyrics: Hey, lazy bachelor with sweat pants on. You push my buttons with an apathetic frown. I warm your products of loneliness. Jimmy Dean, hungry man, and Bush's Best. I feel your thumb press and swell with pride. My door swings open, and you shove your meat inside. Just close me, baby, give me some time. My motor's revving for The way I heat your meal (Spaghetti-Os congealed). You get me powered on (and take a hit from the bong). The way you come when I beep (my harvest can be reaped). Your motivation's dead (but appetite is fed). This pizza pocket you placed in me Is molten hot via electricity. Oh, I'll be nuking this kid cuisine. Dino nuggies, fries, corn, cosmic brownie. I've never served a more pathetic dweeb. When hungry for Italian food picks chef Boyardee. The frozen center of this chicken pot pie Is an allegory for The way your heart can't feel (the way I warm your meal). I really turn your food (and overheat heat your stew). This can of Campbell's chunky (explodes inside of me). My cleanliness is gone (that didn’t take too long). The contents of my body satiate. Open me early, baby, there's no time to wait. Partially cooked still counts as cooked. You shrug your shoulders and begin To eat your luke warm creole (I somewhat warm your meal). Erupted casserole (spewing burrito bowl). You put DiGiorno in me (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET DELIVERY). My landfill days are near (I just want out of here). The way I warm your meal (technically not raw veal). Blue cheese is burnt in me (and you just leave it be). You knock on me when I don't heat. [KNOCKING ON MICROWAVE SOUND] "No! Come on! My chicken breast is still pink! *sigh* Oh, who am I kidding? I like it better this way."
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22 SET 2024 · Whoever spray painted those distasteful remarks about Jambalaya's natural musk wouldn't know a good smell if it invaded their nostrils. Yes, the hall minotaur is still reigning terror in the high school halls—we're working on it. We welcome a new sponsor: The Egg Board of 'Merica! And just in time for book fair; check out a book about eggs and the beauty of the cloaca. Take care when walking on the ceiling in the social studies classroom. If anyone has any information on who keeps deleting Raymond Fiddlehorn's internet search history, please come forward. Thank you to our sponsors: Inchiladas as well as Matrescide. Music by David Petty. This month's parody song is You Spun Me All Night Long: She was a washing machine. She always got me clean. She scrubbed the dirt and grime from nearly every seam. That girl treats me right like I'm a delicate white. Soaking me through, she gets me sanitized. Spinning medium-slow, dispensing extra soap, when it was time to dry she wouldn't let me go. The walls rotated. The door vibrated. The jeans gyrated. My stains all faded when you...spun me all night long. Yeah, you...spun me all night long. She worked and toiled 'cause I was heavily soiled. Her liquid nearly boiled. I'm so god dang spoiled. Got me extra hot to remove an ink blot. Scrubbed a ketchup stain from a dropped tater tot. Had to twirl me 'round because my sleeves were bound. Then I started to drown and made a bubbling sound. Unattended and undefended, my hem was rended. It never ended when you...spun me all night long. Yeah, you...spun me all night long. You got me wet and then you...spun me all night long. You really soaked then you...spun me all night long. Yeah, you spun me. Well, you spun me...all...night...long.
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23 AGO 2024 · The long-closed high school wing of our school has been unearthed. Too bad there's a minotaur roaming the labyrinth-like hallways. Be aware that soccer tryouts are spontaneous. Keep a lookout for Mr. Frito's glass eye. Oh, jeez, those pen pal letters from Gumbo Elementary are...graphic. Music by Chelicerae. This month's parody song is Half Shell, a parody of Alice in Chains' song Nutshell. Lyrics: We met the Foot Clan's rise; We saw our own demise. And here I fight; Here I fight this battle on my own. No turtle to turn to; No sewer to call home. Ooo Ooo Ooo Ooo My nemesis is great; My brothers met their fate. And here I hide; Here I hide crying in my shell. I couldn't save anyone; Now I live in my own shell. Ooo Ooo Ooo.
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21 LUG 2024 · Joseph Wheeler, our thought-to-be-lost school mascot, has returned and now rules the playground with an iron fist (Hulk Hands). School bus jousting is here again, even though two people died last year. Budget cuts saw our janitorial staff laid off—even the cute janitor we all like. But Jambalaya is opening its long-closed high school wing of our building! Yes, Vice Principal Fendleton is still consuming an unsafe amount of testosterone supplements. Music by Cowboy Indian Alien Records. This month's parody song is Bach Against the Wall, a parody of Cage the Elephant's Back Against the Wall. Lyrics: Tonight I'll have a seat and try to write this verse again. Buried beneath this powdered wig, some fleas get settled in. My second cousin then shows me her two cantatas. Behind the harpsichord we've fallen to the floor. Maria's got me by my organ again and I'm about to com...pose a sonata all over her clavichord. I'm stuck here in between two Ds that seem a little flat. I wanna get away—I need to get away......A shake so violent that it wakes me from such peaceful sleep. Turn to my wife to see her Handel-ing my textured suite. Pull back the sheets and take a look into her eyes. A sudden crescendo explodes with a surprise. And now she's got my my pants around my ankles so I can't run again. I'm halfway off the bed but can't reach my violin. I'm stuck here in between this orchestrated pleasuring. I need to get away, but there is no escape......Now, you know, yeah you've got this Bach against the wall. Oh my, I ain't got no other time to write...these fugues. This koncertmeister's running for the hall. So long—you can't keep this Bach against the wall......Out in the countryside with my homeboy Prince Leopold. A messenger exclaims my wife has died—she caught a cold. In disbelief I flee and bump into a fellow. It's a young girl who says she wants to play my cello. Now she calls me to her chambers, and I can't keep my wig on straight. I try to write preludes, but she keeps mailing me nudes. I wanna play my lute, but Anna's in her birthday suit. I go to take a walk, and she says, "YOU'LL BE BACH!" Now, you know, yeah you've got this Bach against the wall. Behave! I bet Vivaldi's turning in his grave. For now, this kappellmeister's living in your thrall. Such woe, again, you've got this Bach against the wall. You know, I was a tenor. Now I'm sopranoooooooo. I know you'll always have this Bach against the wall.
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23 GIU 2024 · Joseph Wheeler, the new mascot, is MIA. On top of that the 4th graders had a gang war. It happens. It's possible that the hall monitor was involved. But good news; we have the license to use Minions in Jambalaya School plays! The school is being remodeled. The teachers' lounge is not being remodeled, though. Nor will it ever. EVER. I went through the lost & found pile and SHEESH there's some weird stuff in there. Stop hiding milk in the lockers! Most of the music by David Petty. This month's parody song is Safe Space Jam:
Everybody get up, it's time to commence sentences that start by saying 'no offense'. Welcome to safe space jam. It's your moment, I won't foment, at safe space jam, alright. Come on, respectfully slam and welcome to the all-inclusive jam. Hey, you, whatcha gon' do? I know it's not my business to know what you gonna do. I'll shut my mouth and not assume Trigger warnings in the house, let's go. I'm a gender neutral ally, yo. Pass that thing, watch me respect. Treat me the same, that's what I expect. To the jam, give you some space. Call you ma'am, but try to save face. Apologize up and down the room. I've been woke since I left the womb. So work that body, sell that body, just don't disrespect nobody. Scroll through Tumblr, lose your mind. Demand justice from those you find. Hey, Admin, check it out . SJW scream and shout. Come on, y'all check out my page, it's a blank screen so you can't rage. Everybody get up, unless you're chair-bound. You can stay seated or rolling now, welcome to safe space jam. It's your chance for wheelchair ramps, at safe space jam, alright. Wave your paws in the air if your fursona's feline. We got a litter box scented pine. Welcome to Safe Space Jam. It's your chance for Facebook rants at Safe Space Jam, alright. Slam bam, thank you, person. I don't assume genders--damn. If you see me in the Twitter-sphere, let me opine in your ear. (Tweet!) C'mon c'mon let's start a thread. (Tweet!) Vegans, normies, let's break bread. (Tweet!) Comment below, speak your mind. (Tweet!) Just bring the facts before you whine. (Just scroll!) Just scroll up and down my page. (Just scroll!) You don't have to act your age. Anime girl as my profile pic, please take the time to read my fan-fic. (Jam on it!) Jam on my toast. (Jam on it!) Jam between my toes. If you got pics of your feet n' hands, feel free to advertise your OnlyFans. Everybody get up, unless you're obese. Wipe the perspiration in your belly crease, and log in to Safe Space Jam. Find romance in stretchy pants at Safe Space Jam, alright. Wave your hands to and fro- if-your-self-esteem-is-low. Jeffrey Epstein didn't kill himself. Welcome to safe space jam. Go with grace, move your pace at safe space jam, alright. Hey non-binaries! (Yeah) Y'all ready to stop? (No) Y'all wanna know why? (Why) IT'S TIME TO SLAM JAM. Hey gender fluids! (Yeah) Y'all ready to stop? (No) Y'all wanna know why? (Why) IT'S TIME TO SLAM JAM. Hey anxiety-ridden people! (What now?) Y'all ready to stop? (Please don't make me decide) Y'all wanna know why? (I regret waking up today) It's time to SLAM JAM. Hey deaf people! Y'all ready to stop? Y'all wanna know why? It's time to SLAM JAM. Every body get up, it's just about time to slam. We got a real jam going now, and you don't want to be stuck in the consessions line while this thing is going on. It's your chance...to find your seat. And enjoy the safe space jam. We went to a LOT of trouble putting this on. Aaand i think you would be remiss if a salted pretzel accompanied by yellow #5 cheese...made you miss it. I'm just saying. Respectfully.
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19 MAG 2024 · A portal to Lansing, Michigan caused the cafeteria to burn down. Bobby Warner is transferring to Grindlewald but not because of the fire, I swear. Billy Turner was a great mascot. Was. Thank you to Duraflame for sponsoring our fair school in this time of need! Try to avoid Principal Fendleton and her ruthless high fives in the hallways. Verbally-taught guitar lessons are back! Most of the music by David Petty. This month's parody song is Aluminumb: Deep underground you have mined into me. Bound for the furnace, Brought up to the surface. I don't know what you're extracting from me. Put under the pressure, And made into metal boots. Fought in the Thunderdome, just fought in the Thunderdome. Every swing that you take is a dented mistake, you fool. Clot in the Thunderdome, blood clot in the Thunderdome. I'm aluminumb, I can't steel you there. Become so iron, so much metal ware. I've become tarnished, alloy want to do. Is be murcury, poisonous to you. Can't you see when you're smelting with me. Your molding's too tight, you're about to spill the flow. 'Cause every ting that you wrought into me. Has dulled all my parts, right in front of you. Lost in the Thunderdome, arm lost in the Thunderdome. Every parry they make is deflected right back at you. Law in the Thunderdome, one law in the Thunderdome. And once you're dead they'll remake me into a rake. I'm aluminumb, I can't steel you there. Become so iron, so much metal ware. I've become tarnished, alloy want to do. Is be more Ag, and be less Au. And I know, I may end up breaking in two. And I know, Your ass is just like mine with someone hammering your behind. I'm aluminumb, I can't steel you there. Become so iron, so much metal ware. I've become tarnished, alloy want to do. Is be foiled like tin, and roll away from you.
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19 APR 2024 · Did you hear what happened to Garfield the Bottlenose Dolphin? I don't think I'll ever get over that one. Spirit week is here! Don't go into the teacher's lounge on Wednesday. Look out FOR but don't look AT the escaped specimens as well as the hooded figures hunting them. This month's newsletter is in memory of Tyler Lockhart. Most of the music by David Petty (all of the GOOD music). This month's parody song is Creep (Half the Man I Used to Be): I mowed my lawn that day, when I saw a rake. I stepped onto the field, to remove the tool concealed. I waved at my neighbor, Dutch, then I heard the pop of a clutch. With my face down in a weed, my mower made a meal of me. In no time it wounded my hands and took half my spleen. But it took time to grind my bones into a fine white meal. I called for help, waving both my hands. But one got caught inside the mower wheel. I'm half the man I used to be. This I feel as my vision fades to grey. I'm half the man I used to be. Losing feeling in my extremeties. I'm half the man I used to be. Wish I'd kneeled instead of laid down by the rake. Well I'm half the man I used to be. Half the man I used to be. Feeling half expired, I turned into a crier. Tried to stand on up but fell on account of my stump. Dutch don't hear me shriek, I wish a neighbor would just creep. Won't someone find me, until then I'll lie in my pee. I got a pirate hand, 'cause I like to steal.
They hate me in RPGs 'cause I can't fight and heal.
Take time with my hook hand 'cause it likes to feel. It likes to OH GOD THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE. I'm half the man I used to be. I still reel whenever I see a rake. I'm half the man I used to be. On halloween I match my hook with a peg leg. I'm half the man I used to be. I fly for cheap in my friend's carry-on duffle bag. I'm half the man I used to be. Half the man I used to be. While I took time to heal my glands, I watched a lot of TV. Rick Grimes let things get out of hand, and T-Dog became a meal. Rick's son shot his bitten mom, and made him cry out in pain, "Carl that kills people!" I'm half the man I used to be. My hook hand's sharpened steel affects my dating game. I'm half the man I used to be. Copping a feel only ever seems to maim. I'm half the man I used to be. I got the role in a Batman porno as Two-Face. Well I'm half the man I used to be. I'm half the man I used to be. I'm half the man I used to be.
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23 MAR 2024 · Did you hear what happened to Larry the Crocodile? It was so tragic. Don't forget to fill your kid's backpack with milk for the contest! Picture day approaches—remember what we talked about. Don't go into the teacher's lounge. I'm sorry, but did you just say the kindergarten classroom caught fire again? Dangit, I owe Mr. Stanovich twenty bucks. I sure lost that bet. Thanks to our sponsors Thcrabble as well as Yogurt Lidz. This month's parody song is Chasin' Girls: It started out, just a hobby. Chasin' teenage girls through a darkened alley. I'd laugh, and they'd shriek. It was the funnest game of hide-and-seek. Minutes passed, I wouldn't hear a peep. Hiding by the dumpster with my machete. Until I would hear her cellphone ring. I'd say, "You can run, but you won't get far. You wanna know how I got this scar?" She'd scream and try to unlock her car. Chasin' girls, what a job. Wanna sniff them and sleep in their bed with them. Suck their toes and cut their curls. Chasin' girls, great to catch, hard to hold, wondering how you got into their home. I climbed in through the attic window. Chasin' girls. Caught my breath, and got a look at a teenage heartthrob in a coffee shop. Standing there I could see my girl chasin' days were just beginning. And then she handed me a black coffee. I said, "Tell me, tell me where's the sugar and cream? And can you give your home address to me?" And now it's: I see you hidin' behind the couch. I wanna cottonswab the inside of your mouth. Let's get married, I already wrote my vows. Chasin' girls, I'm alive. There is nothing more exhilarating...than watching them run around in circles. Chasin' girls, break the latch to her room in the lighting of the moon. Watch her in silence and say, "Soon." Chasin' girls. When you wake up from this nightmare feeling safe as you can be, I'll burst through your closet door and chase you into the street. Oh no, yeah. Chasin' girls, I play fetch. They're the bone, as I dig them their own hole. They're the Pokemon of my world. Chasin' girls. Chasin' girls.
Jambalaya is exactly how you remember life at your own school—the school mascot died sort of tragically, and then so did the next mascot; 4th grade recess devolved into a...
mostra di più
Jambalaya is exactly how you remember life at your own school—the school mascot died sort of tragically, and then so did the next mascot; 4th grade recess devolved into a gang war, fulfilling an ancient prophecy etched into the bottom of the playground slide; the kindergarten classroom caught fire, marking the 8th year-in-a-row—the usual stuff you repressed from your chilhood. Updates from Jambalaya come monthly in the form of a written newsletter that is then read aloud to listeners keeping up on everything Jambalaya.
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Informazioni
| Autore | The Impotent Satyr |
| Organizzazione | The Impotent Satyr |
| Categorie | Commedia |
| Sito | - |
| vegdan69@gmail.com |
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