-----Original Message-----
From: SciFiNoir_Lit@yahoogroups.com
[mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Behalf Of Nora
Sent: Friday, August 19, 2005 7:59 PM
To: scifinoir2@yahoogroups.com; SciFiNoir_Lit@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [SciFiNoir Lit] FW: [DT_Fam] Sir Mixalot, in Victorian English


This came from the Metaquotes community on LiveJournal
(http://www.livejournal.com/community/metaquotes/3695692.html) where
basically a bunch of people just put together lyrics to "Baby Got Back"...
in Victorian English.  I'm rolling on the floor.

Nora
--

Oh my word, Miss Rebecca - observe her bustle. 'Tis so immense! She
resembles one of those shirkster's mistresses. They converse with her
because she seems such a dollymop.

The courtiers like big bustles and they cannot lie.
No gentleman doth deny.
When a fair maiden strolls in with a diminutive waist
And a bustle in your face
You approach a mutual aquaintance who may introduce her to you, and after a
respectful introduction you politely inquire her father whether or not you
may be allowed to make calls upon said young lady, and should he acquiesce,
you make a series of chaperoned calls at the estate of said fair maiden, and
after an appropriate time, during which you have reviewed her trainings,
breeding, accomplishments, likelyhood to produce healthy offspring, and
family standing, you approach her father again, and if he agrees to the
marriage, you have an elaborate wedding, making sure lest you snub any
family connections on either side, after which you embark on an appropriate
honeymoon during which you get sprung.

You become distracted from your affairs when you notice the pleasurable
silhouette of a young woman with a bustle,
It lies beneath many layers of fabric, and you find yourself utterly engaged
in examining it from afar.
Oh, darling, I would like to escort you on outings
And commission an oil portrait of you
My fellow gentlemen attempt to dissuade me,
But your bustle imparts within me feelings of great ecstasy.

Oh yes, that wire frame
Would you like to ride in my hansom?
Then join me, I beg you to join me
For you are more accomplished and pleasing to look upon than an average
young lady
I have observed you at dancing
And I fear my love for you will scarcely bear a long courtship
I perspire greatly
As a racehorse will in the midst of the steeplechase

I tire of these leisurely publications
Advocating the abandonment of the bustle--
If you were to inquire as to the opinions of gentlemen of standing on this
matter, you would find that they greatly prefer the current fashion.

Therefore, ladies...
Milord?
Miladies...
Milord?
If you do wish to ride in my luxurious carriage...
Indeed, milord!

So, your betrothed owns a carriage of Japanese make
and engages in calesthenics instructed by Lady Jane Fonda?
But Miss Fonda has no motor in the rear of her carriage!
I, and by extension my membrum virilis, which I shall liken unto a ferocious
and large snake, am not interested in the performance of the sacred marital
duties, unless the Creator has endowed you with a voluptuous form pleasing
to the baser instincts of man, dear heart.

Various rapscallions make pretentions of being noble
And admonish that thy bustle is akin in size to the fretful hippopotamus
So they make pantywaisted pretense for your affections before fleeing from
romantic commitment
But I am swift to mend thy bruiséd fluttering heart
These periodicals of the printing press state that it is in good Parisian
style to resemble a victim of consumption
Fie!
Thy shape resembleth a glass of sweet wine
So to the waifish guttersnipes I proclaim:
Thou'rt not divine, onion-headed lasses!
Rather introduce me to a lady of the court,
One of such striking beauty that I am smitten by her glory
And whose curves show that she lacks for neither nourishment nor health
Some blatherskytes speak ill of women in my company
For their tongues are sharpened by jealousy
They squandered their one opportunity with such damsels by acting the churl
And I fly to the scorned and praise their beauty
So if thy bustle is elliptical
And thy womanly fires burn hungrily for one to stoke the flames
Please see my man Godwin for my card
And do call on Sunday for tea





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