sometimes Mr. Allen dies
All is well with me, but I must be the bearer of bad news -
heard this from banana's live journal
Mr. Allen is dead! oh lord no!
For all you who did not graduate from LHS, Mr. Allen:
big comical glasses
old, old man
with old man arms
who challenged his students to arm wrestling matches
and sang for the class
and perhaps something about chess
and was the sweetest old substitute teacher the world ever did know.
Following suit, the lyrics to his classic, sung in great demand:
* * *
My Gal's a Corker
My gal's a corker, she's a New Yorker
I buy her everything to keep her in style
She's got a pair of legs, just like two whiskey kegs
Hey boys, that's where my money goes-oes-oes
That's where my money goes, to buy my baby clothes
I buys her everything to keep her in style
She's worth her weight in gold, my coal black baby
Hey boys, that's where my money goes
When we go walkin', she does the talkin'
And when my arm's round her, how time does fly
She does the teasin', I do the sqeezin'
Hey boys,...
She's got a pair of eyes, just like two custard pies
And when she looks at me, I sure get a thrill
She's got a pair of lips, just like potato chips
...
She's got a pair of legs, just like two whiskey kegs
And when they knock together, oh what a sound
She's got a pair of hips, just like two battle ships
She's got a bulbous nose, just like a big red rose
And when the lights go out, it really does shine
She wears silk underwear, I wear my latest pair
* * *
a moment of silence.
heard this from banana's live journal
Mr. Allen is dead! oh lord no!
For all you who did not graduate from LHS, Mr. Allen:
big comical glasses
old, old man
with old man arms
who challenged his students to arm wrestling matches
and sang for the class
and perhaps something about chess
and was the sweetest old substitute teacher the world ever did know.
Following suit, the lyrics to his classic, sung in great demand:
* * *
My Gal's a Corker
My gal's a corker, she's a New Yorker
I buy her everything to keep her in style
She's got a pair of legs, just like two whiskey kegs
Hey boys, that's where my money goes-oes-oes
That's where my money goes, to buy my baby clothes
I buys her everything to keep her in style
She's worth her weight in gold, my coal black baby
Hey boys, that's where my money goes
When we go walkin', she does the talkin'
And when my arm's round her, how time does fly
She does the teasin', I do the sqeezin'
Hey boys,...
She's got a pair of eyes, just like two custard pies
And when she looks at me, I sure get a thrill
She's got a pair of lips, just like potato chips
...
She's got a pair of legs, just like two whiskey kegs
And when they knock together, oh what a sound
She's got a pair of hips, just like two battle ships
She's got a bulbous nose, just like a big red rose
And when the lights go out, it really does shine
She wears silk underwear, I wear my latest pair
* * *
a moment of silence.