Gentle readers, I beg your forgiveness for what I'm about to do, but I can't be the only Roveotee who's weathered this particular affliction. You know when you've got a particular ditty careening around your cranium for hours and hours, but you're not even sure you've got the words right, so you start subbing in ones of your own? The lyrics might spin themselves around what you're doing at the moment - cleaning out the ferret hutch, smelting pig iron, getting a toe wax, etc. Anyhow, no matter how fragrant the hutch, or painful the depilation, there's one subject (betcha can't guess!) on the tippity-top of my l'il noggin for the past, oh, week or so. And as for the tune - oh Barry Manilow, I curse the day you excreted "Mandy" into the celestial musical cesspool...
Well you caaaaame and you gaaaave meee some puuuudding
Just to fiiiillll up myyyy tummy, oh Rovey
Didn't giiiiive it tooooo Ashcroft or Ruuuummyyyy
Snack from myyy buffet, ohhhh Rooooveyyyyy
Well you caaaaame and you won theeeeee eeelection
I'll tend toooo your erection, oh Rooooveeeey
Eeeeeven if you're all sweaty and meanie,
Watch you wrestle with Deanie, oh Roooooveeeeeyyyy…
And so on.
Oh golly - must dash 'cause Rovey's poking at me to get in the Gremlin. He just looooves him a l'il bit of the old In-N-Out Burger when we're off in Sin City, and I'm not about to thwart his acquisition of some double-double animal style joy. Me? I just need a protein-style Roveyshake, and mmm….I'm sated.