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  • mistermuse 5:14 am on September 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , That's all folks!   

    LOONEY TUNES & MERRY MALADIES 

    Inch became Foot;
    Exception became Rule.

    Rule became Absolute;
    Absolute became Cruel.

    Cruel became Lust;
    Lust became Drool.

    Drool became Looney;
    Looney became Tunes.

    Poem became un-rhymed;
    Post became th-th-th-

     
    • arekhill1 11:44 am on September 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Stymied?

      Like

    • mistermuse 1:54 pm on September 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      I decided to give up post-haste before I went crazy trying to think of an even loonier ending – I’m not pig-headed.

      Like

    • Don Frankel 4:28 pm on September 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      One good turn deserves another.

      A lot of people forget that Buggs closed a few too.

      Like

    • mistermuse 7:40 pm on September 5, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Thanks, Don.

      Like

  • mistermuse 12:23 am on April 6, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , graves, headstones, humorous epitaphs, , That's all folks!   

    EPITAPH EPIPHANY 

    Mistermuse
    Did not choose
    His birth, or his conceiver….

    Now he’s dead
    Although he said
    He didn’t choose that either.

    April 6 is PLAN YOUR OWN EPITAPH DAY, hence my premature termination above….plus what follows below. So much work was killed in the great SWI (Speak Without Interruption) meltdown of Sept. 2013 that I can’t remember specific bygone posts unless some kind of connection happens to come up. This April 6 preparatory “memorial” day triggered such a connection: a post of humorous epitaphs. Now, as I mourn anew the memory of the dear departed, I plot a resurrection, and make no bones about it — any resemblance between this and previous tomes is purely intentional:

    Ope’d my eyes, took a peep.
    Didn’t like it, went to sleep.
    It is so soon that I was done for,
    I wonder what I was begun for.
    –Baby’s grave

    I put my wife beneath this stone
    For her repose and for my own.

    Here lie the bones of Sophie Jones
    For her, death held no terrors.
    She was born a maid and died a maid —
    No hits, no runs, no heirs.

    SIR JOHN STRANGE
    Here lies an honest lawyer
    And that is Strange.

    This one’s on me.
    –On headstone of a popular host

    Who lies here?
    I, Johnny Doo.
    Hoo, Johnny, is that you?
    Ay, man, but a’m dead noo
    [noo means “just now”].
    –Glasgow, Scotland, epitaph

    Here lies Margaret, otherwise Meg,
    Who died without issue, save on her leg.
    Strange woman was she, and exceedingly cunning,
    For whilst one leg stood still, the other kept running.

    Remember man, as you walk by,
    As you are now, so once was I.
    As I am now, so shall you be,
    Remember this and follow me.
    –to which someone appended,
    “To follow you, I’ll not consent
    Until I know which way you went.”

    Here lies the father of 29
    He would have had more,
    But he didn’t have time.

    Plan your epitaph today, while you have time!

    That’s all, folks!
    –Epitaph of Mel Blanc, voice of Porky Pig/many other cartoon characters

     

     
    • Don Frankel 8:09 am on April 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      I’m pretty sure I remember this one. I think I remember my comment too. “Here lies Les Moore 4 slugs from a .44. No Les No More.

      Like

    • mistermuse 8:43 am on April 7, 2014 Permalink | Reply

      Don, this isn’t Bad Pun Day, but I’ll say it anyway: I’m glad this “triggered” your comment.

      Like

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