Writing in the London Times, Caitlin Moran noted: "No black artists, no gay artists, no world music, only one woman, no genre less than 25 years old, and no Beatles."

I demand affirmative action for the Presidential iPod!

(Seriously, I think it's sadder that the thing only has 250 songs on it. All that lovely wasted storage space.)

A particularly funny story on my friend's parody site. [link]

I plan on singing my children murder ballads during their formative years. "Poor Ellen Smith, how was she found?/ Shot through the heart, lying full on the ground."

Great, now I'm earwormed with "Richard Corey." Richard Corey went home last night / And put a bullet through his head. It'd help if I can actually remember more than just the one verse and chorus.

I totally intend to sing this song to any potential Zmayhem spawn. It actually has a very jolly, rollicking tune and you can do different voices for the different characters and such. We sing it often at Faire, usually while dandling babies on our knees; parents draw back in horror, but little children giggle and clap. They love stories about sad babies and wicked mommies who are horribly punished for their wickedness.

Oh, and then you can sing them Tom Lehrer's "Irish Ballad":

About a girl I'll sing a song
Sing rickety-tickety-tin
About a girl I'll sing a song
Who did not have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong
She did every one of them in

Richard Corey went home last night / And put a bullet through his head.

Oh, who does this song? I know I've heard it.

Simon and Garfunkel, based on a poem by...Edward Arlington Robinson.

They say that Richard Corey owns one half of this whole town
With political connections to spread himself around...

Paul Simon.

But I, I work in his factory
And I hate the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh, I wish that I could be
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Corey.

Dad used to sing to us at night, I'm not sure if Mom did. But I remember after my parents split up and Dad moved to his duplex at night he'd pace the hall between my bedroom and his (where my brother slept) and sing to us. There was some song with angels in it, but what I remember most is him singing "Old Saint Nick", "Away in the Manager" no matter what time of the year. I think occasionally he mixed it up with some Motown, but those two were my favorites.

Oh, and then you can sing them Tom Lehrer's "Irish Ballad":

And to continue the theme, Da Vinci's Notebook's "Another Irish Drinking Song":

Gather 'round ye lads and lassies, set ye for a while,
and harken to me mournful tale about the Emerald Isle.
Let's all raise our glasses high to friends and family gone,
and lift our voices in another Irish drinkin' song.

Consumption took me mother and me father got the pox,
me brother drank the whiskey 'till he wound up in a box.
Me other brother in the troubles met with his demise,
me sister has forever closed her smilin' Irish eyes.

Now everybody's died, so until our tears are cried,
we'll drink and drink and drink and drink and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight until the early mornin' light,
then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up and then go drinkin' once again.

(And for anyone who's clicked to see the lyrics in full, I apologize in advance for all the nassssty popups.)

And then segue into Moxy Fruvous's "Drinking Song"?