The Festival Of Life

In Australia, we have a musician/comedian named Kevin Boody Wilson. And he wrote the following song:

The Festival of Life by Kevin Bloody Wilson

Ah, the Festival of Life is 'in' to save my fuckin' soul
They don't want me drinkin' piss or screwin' round no more
But they've got fuckin' Buckley's chance I'm giving you the score
Still the Festival of Life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul
It's Saturday afternoon at last, it's what you've waited for all week
Relax and put the feet up, turn the footy on TV
You're expecting Vern and Bluey round, they'll probably stay all night
A coupla mates and a coupla beers - aw, Christ, this is the life
Well, here they are already, you just heard the car door slam
You wedge yourself out of your chair, get up to let 'em in
But it's some wanker that you've never met, with a briefcase in his hand
Some prick just out of Bible school, who thinks he's God's right hand

Halleluiah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Chorus

Ah, the Festival of life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul
They don't want me drinkin' piss or screwin' round no more
But they've got fuckin' Buckley's chance I'm giving you the score
Still the Festival of Life keeps tryin' to save my fuckin' soul
'I'm Elder Robbins 'n' he's Elder Pike 'n' we'd like to talk to y'all
'Bout eternal salvation, won't take but a minute or more
We got a book we think y'aII should read, 'bout how y'all should live
My, what a charmin' home y'all have - y'all mind it we come in?'
'Well, I'd love t'invite yer in yer know, but the joint's a fuckin' mess
And there's an orgy ragin' in the lounge, and every cunt's undressed!
And I'd love yer to meet the missus, Shirl, but she's a bit crook in bed
She says she's got a real sore throat through givin' too much head!'

Gobblegobble, gobblegobble, gobblegobble


Repeat Chorus

All snuggled up on Sunday mornin' and you wake up with a horn
You grab the missus on the arse, oh, Christ she feels so warm
The scene is set, the mood's just right, you're about to slip it in
Then - (knock knock, knock) - there's that fuckin' door again!

'Good morning, sir, did I get you up?
Sorry, I'm David and this is Pam
We're missionaries who've come to talk of Man's eternal plan
And to discuss the holy future and reflect the holy past.'
So you flash your dick and scream 'I'll holy shove this up your arse!'

Up your arsehole, up your arsehole, up your arsehole

Repeat Chorus

Well it's not like it's just once or twice, it's every damn weekend
Now how d'ya think they'd like it if we done the same to them?
You know, turn up on their doorstep at a time they least expect
Try and ram our way of life down their fuckin' necks!
Just imagine for a minute the reception that you'd get
With a couple of stick books in your hand and a carton on the steps
And your missus chewin' chewin' gum in a really low-cut dress
And you in thongs and overalls-you know, your fuckin' Sunday best!

What a yobbo, what a yobbo, what a yobbo

Repeat Chorus

Gidday, we're pissed-up testecostacals, I'm Kevin and this is Shirl
We've come to introduce you cunts to a whole new fuckin' world
We've come to preach the good news, we think it's what you need to hear
We'll show you more fun in five minutes than you've had all fuckin' year!
Now You, sweetheart, you come with me and I'll teach you how to sin
And Sister Shirl, old sort, 'll suck your sav until your 'ead caves in~
Aw shit, your missus just fainted, so we won't bother comin' in
We'll just piss off back to our place-just drop ten bucks in the tin

'Nother carton, 'nother carton, 'nother carton

Repeat Chorus Twice

Aren't they gorgeous?!!?!

On the outside, yes. But I challenge you to live with them.

Who are they? My two beautiful daughters, Miss 5 and Miss 4.

Miss 5 tends to be a people-pleasing emotional soul. Bless her she still manages her share of 'moments' though.

Miss 4 tends to be more of a cheeky character, a divine sense of humour and the braver of the two. She is also stubborn and aggressive.

Recently we wre at one of our usual favouite places to catch up with friends, the upstairs restaurant at IKEA. Nothing says happiness like small children in he creche, a bottomless cup of tea and a slice of swedish chocolate cakey stuff. right? There we were, gf and I, hastily trying to catch up on a fortnights gossip, toddler tales and man trouble before she had to rush off to a forgotten dr appointment, and Miss 4 spots the fizzy drink fountain.
Miss 4 "Mummy, can you please buy me a lemonade?"
Me "No, if you're thirsty, have a drink from your water bottle. Wht don't you go and play with the toys?"
Miss 4 "I WANT A DRINK OF LEMONADE!!!"
Me "I said No. Have water."
Miss 4 goes into pretty standard routine of jumping up and down on the spot whining "i want lemonade" in that wobbly voice over and over in typical tantrum fashion.
Mummy ignores. Miss 4 ups the ante. Mummy ignores. Miss 4 decides to test a new, as yet untested strategy in the middle of the IKEA restaurant at lunchtime on the school holidays (read packed). She screams a high pitched squeal at top volume. Over and over again. This does not go unnoticed by absolutely everyone in a 5 mile radius.
Mummy's friend sees this as her cue to leave for Dr appointment (who could blame her?). Decision time. I either cave, or go in for the long haul. I choose the latter. But I'm only human-I have to get to a new location before the looks I'm getting actually start to burn into my skull. So I move downstairs, slowly, I have a 4 year old throwing a tantrum every 5 metres.
It takes a good few minutes to make it a very small distance to kitchenware, where Miss 4 decides to step it up a notch. Cue screaming the 'F' word at the top of her little darling lungs over 10 times. And I thought the screaming was embarrassing.
My initial instinct is to curl up and die of embarrassment, followed quickly by the uncontrollable urge to laugh. So I hide behind a display and laugh. Unassuming lady custmer walks past, smiling, says to me "I'd hate to be that girls mother" I give her a knowing look- "OhmygoshImsosorryIdidn'tmean..." "It's OK. It's funny." Sort of. Loud screaming suddenly stops.Miss 4 walks over to me and very sincerely says "I'm sorry for being naughty Mummy. I'm sorry for saying a bad word. I'll be a good girl now" wipes her nose with her arm, holds my hand and walks alongside me.
Another lady customer comes to me and says quietly "If it's any consolation, that was the first word my son learnt how to write and he wrote it all over thewalls of our house. in bright red lipstick" Thankyou, angel in human form, that actually does make me feel a little better, and I say so.