by Old Uncle Crow
[The first selection below, with bracketted interpolations, is closest to the version I learnt 1960 ca from my American maternal uncle EJ whilst “polishing many a shitfork handle” in the barn and hoghouse on the family farm Summers between 1956-69, on the high, dry and, to-day, farmed-out ground on the high ground between Madison Lake and Eagle Lake, MN — OUC]
*****
from:
http://board.jokeroo.com/archive/index.php/t-56634.html
Bamber01-25-2010, 05:40 AM
Three Old Whores From Winnipeg
CHORUS: Oh, roly poly stick-a [tickle — Uncle E] my holey,
Up my slimy slough [Sink in a slimy slough — cantare citat],
I [I’ll — ibid] drag my balls across the halls,
I’m one of the sportin’ [that whorey whorehouse — ibid] crew.
Three old whores from Winnipeg
Were drinking cherry wine,
Says one of them [One of them said — ibid] to the other two,
“Yours is smaller than mine [My cunt (NB) is bigger than yours! — ibid]
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the second old whore,
“Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big [wide? –ed] as the sea, [Hudson’s Bay — ibid]
[The — ibid] Ships sail in and [the — ibid] ships sail out
And [they — ibid] never bother me.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the third old whore,
“Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big [wide? — ed] as the moon [ocean — ibid]
[The — ibid] Ships sail in [there — ibid] on the first of the year
And never come [back — ibid] out [again — ibid] till June.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the first again [old whore some more — ibid],
Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big as the air [sky — ibid],
[The — ibid] Ships sail [birds fly — ibid] in and ships sail [the birds fly — ibid] out
And never tickle a [pubic — ibid] hair.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the second [old whore — ibid] again,
Mine [My cunt — ibid] is bigger than [the biggest one of — ibid] all,
For many’s the ship that sails right in [on in — ibid]
And never * comes [back — ibid] out [again — ibid] at all [At ALL! (followed by plenty of sub-adult boyish giggling) — ibid]”
CHORUS
* — Anxiously discussed non-emergence from a female vagina was the great megrim and boyhood horror and boogeywoman of male childhood in the midwestern American 1950s; and, alas, a lot of the fellows of course did disappear into the fatuities of marriage and all the vicissitudes of child-support payments. Many others became credentialled professionals which is the remarkable postmodern metaphor, to-day, of a castrated uselessness in the 1946-64 Baby Generation– OUC
*****
These other links are to versions more inept and, yet, all the less innocently playful and jejeune:
http://www.greekchat.com/gcforums/showthread.php?t=54680
http://www.topix.com/forum/news/weird/TB15ME4S0ROJ1CDI2/p2
http://ismaels.wordpress.com/2009/01/17/rogue%E2%80%99s-gallery-the-art-of-the-siren-1
http://www.csufresno.edu/folklore/drinkingsongs/html/books-and-manuscripts/1960s/1967ca-yankee-air-pirates-songbook/index.htm
*****
[Old Uncle Crow
[copyrighted by tio cuervo
[October 6th, 2010]
*****
from:
http://board.jokeroo.com/archive/index.php/t-56634.html
Bamber01-25-2010, 05:40 AM
Three Old Whores From Winnipeg
CHORUS: Oh, roly poly stick-a [tickle — Uncle E] my holey,
Up my slimy slough [Sink in a slimy slough — cantare citat],
I [I’ll — ibid] drag my balls across the halls,
I’m one of the sportin’ [that whorey whorehouse — ibid] crew.
Three old whores from Winnipeg
Were drinking cherry wine,
Says one of them [One of them said — ibid] to the other two,
“Yours is smaller than mine [My cunt (NB) is bigger than yours! — ibid]
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the second old whore,
“Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big [wide? –ed] as the sea, [Hudson’s Bay — ibid]
[The — ibid] Ships sail in and [the — ibid] ships sail out
And [they — ibid] never bother me.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the third old whore,
“Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big [wide? — ed] as the moon [ocean — ibid]
[The — ibid] Ships sail in [there — ibid] on the first of the year
And never come [back — ibid] out [again — ibid] till June.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the first again [old whore some more — ibid],
Mine’s [My cunt is — ibid] as big as the air [sky — ibid],
[The — ibid] Ships sail [birds fly — ibid] in and ships sail [the birds fly — ibid] out
And never tickle a [pubic — ibid] hair.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the second [old whore — ibid] again,
Mine [My cunt — ibid] is bigger than [the biggest one of — ibid] all,
For many’s the ship that sails right in [on in — ibid]
And never * comes [back — ibid] out [again — ibid] at all [At ALL! (followed by plenty of sub-adult boyish giggling) — ibid]”
CHORUS
* — Anxiously discussed non-emergence from a female vagina was the great megrim and boyhood horror and boogeywoman of male childhood in the midwestern American 1950s; and, alas, a lot of the fellows of course did disappear into the fatuities of marriage and all the vicissitudes of child-support payments. Many others became credentialled professionals which is the remarkable postmodern metaphor, to-day, of a castrated uselessness in the 1946-64 Baby Generation– OUC
*****
These other links are to versions more inept and, yet, all the less innocently playful and jejeune:
http://www.greekchat.com/gcforums/showthread.php?t=54680
http://www.topix.com/forum/news/weird/TB15ME4S0ROJ1CDI2/p2
http://ismaels.wordpress.com/2009/01/17/rogue%E2%80%99s-gallery-the-art-of-the-siren-1
http://www.csufresno.edu/folklore/drinkingsongs/html/books-and-manuscripts/1960s/1967ca-yankee-air-pirates-songbook/index.htm
*****
[Old Uncle Crow
[copyrighted by tio cuervo
[October 6th, 2010]
I note that this is very much a work in progress! My reconstruction thus far from from memory, of my late uncle’s version of this delightful late-modern confection, does not exactly rhyme albeit it illustrates the baleful pervasive influence of Sigmund Freud on the oral culture of the day…especially among nervous small boys:
Three Old Whores From Winnipeg
CHORUS: Oh, roly poly tickle my holey,
Sink in a slimy slough,
I’ll drag my balls across the halls,
I’m one of that whorey whorehouse crew.
Three old whores from Winnipeg
Were drinking cherry wine,
One of them said to the other two,
“My cunt is bigger than yours!”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the second old whore,
“My cunt is as wide as Hudson’s Bay,
The ships sail in and the ships sail out
And they never bother me.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the third old whore,
“My cunt is as big as the ocean,
The ships sail in there on the first of the year
And never come back out again till June.”
CHORUS
“You’re a liar,” says the first old whore some more,
“My cunt is as big as the sky,
The birds fly in and the birds fly out
And never even tickle a pubic hair.”
CHORUS
Also, I should note that in about 1950 the late Uncle Emmett Jacobson and Neighbor Milo Hill drove from rural Eagle Lake, MN, to Winnipeg and then took a train to Churchill on Hudson’s Bay. It was after combining wheat and it was “just for the Hell of it,” said Uncle Emmett to me when telling of his adventures in later years, and so of course I positively can NOT rule out the possibility that he may indeed only have learnt the following ditty when aged thirty or so, in some dive in Canada. And not as a small boy in the 1920s in one-room School District 153, I mean. What militates against this theory, of course, is that Neighbor Milo Hill was an “Advent,” a Seventh Day Adventist, and didn’t go in for “dives”. On the other hand, on a trip to Colorado and in my hearing, around 1958 or so, he did recite with delght, from a 1933 book by western journalst Gene Fowler about the Denver Post that Uncle Emmett had bought, /Timberline/, the famous verse attributed to Denver madame Mattie Silks on her first arrival in that berg as a seventeen-year-old. She had taken a job as a waitress in the best hotel, contingent on rhyming her orders. A stage arrived with two old jewish hassidim in black clothes and long whiskers, two rather obvious “businesswomen” and a fellow farm girl from Missouri. Mattie Silks got her first job on bawling through the serving hatch:
“Two stews for two Jews,
two more for two whores,
and an egg in a glass for a country lass —
if that’s not poetry you can KISS my ass!”
Also, Neighbor Milo Hill, a religious vegetarian did sneak a cheeseburger “with lots of fried onions!” and behind his wife’s back at a White Castle once on a trip — so, you never know!
It was on this trip in 1958 and driving West through Nebraska in those pre-Interstate days that I first saw THESE Union Pacific steam locomotives:
Of course they may have been the smaller UP Challengers — I do NOT remember the wheel-count — but the record seems clear it was in fact Big Boy 4-8-8-4s at work in the last year or so of their lives, called up from the railroad’s soon-to-be-scrapped steam reserve to help the diesels haul the Great Plains wheat harvest.
I remember the whores of Winnipeg as a song by the Kinks, a dirty LP I heard in the early sixties.
http://www.castleton.co.uk/caverns/
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