I used to sit on the 21st floor. Now I am retired

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Hitler's balls

The two most value-adding things that I learnt on my rafting trip were songs. One was "A soldier went to fight" (I found a version here, scroll down).

A soul, A soul, A soldier went to fight.
To fight for the count, to fight for the count,
to fight for the country...
Fork you, Fork you, For curiosity.
To fight for the count, to fight for the count,
to fight for the country...
Fork off, Fork off, For coffee and for tea..
To fight for the count, to fight for the count,
to fight for the country...
Forking, Forking, For King and for the Queen.

Growing up in the wrong side of town and country, I wasn't exposed to such lyrics. After hearing such, I wished I grew up in Ireland drinking songs over beer or at least in South Bombay.

The other of which we only knew two paragraphs was sung once an hour on an average. This song in my mind, is dedicated to TenG, who asked me sweetly.
"Hitler, he only had one ball.
The other was in the Albert Hall.
His mother, the dirty bugger,
chopped it off when he was small."

The song originally written for Göring, was sung by British soldiers on their way to war to the tune of Colonel Bogey's March. However, it changed with the emergence of theories on Hitler's incomplete anatomy. Read about it here and see some pics here.

I have to obviously add my own two-bits here. So here are my attempts:
"This guy, he used to live on dole.
The dreamer, to devil, sold his soul.
Still the chicken, his brain did thicken -
for his first film, he got Sunny Deol."

"Arjun, he was part of riff-raff.
Trying to salvage his political graph.
to stay relevant, gave the present
of forty-nine and a half."

"Salman, he tried his luck,
running over men with his truck.
Now he's copped it, being convicted.
Should been careful with black buck."

Incidentally here's a recipe to go with all this:
"The combination of the milky-white Liebfraumilch with the champagne will produce a very white drink, where the German very quickly overwhelms the French. The wide-mouthed rocks glass provides breathing room for the drink, which has only one ball, "and a flaming one at that

To make, take:
* 1 part good champagne
* 5 parts cheap liebfraumilch

Shake the concoction very violently but for a short duration, then pour into a "rocks" type glass. Before drinking, add one cinnamon ball, the type found in bags of bulk candy. You now have a One-Balled Dictator."

3 Comments:

Blogger TenG said...

A very drunken man has been made very happy. Btw, you might want to check out Sparam's additions to Helmet's misadventures. (In other words, READ MY BLOG) http://tengonteng.blogspot.com/2006/05/shots-in-dark.html

Saturday, May 13, 2006 12:15:00 PM

 
Blogger dhoomketu said...

Read it. And you are welcome.

Sunday, May 14, 2006 8:47:00 AM

 
Blogger Soultan of Swing said...

you surely went rafting with some campionites. the songs about the soldiers went to sea, and hitler's anatomy were classics from my days at campion school (bombay)...

Wednesday, March 25, 2009 10:19:00 PM

 

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