Bags Of Fun With Buster
Performed by johnny japes and his jesticles. recorded for viz
Comics, written and produced by andy partridge, neville farmer,
And dave gregory, and featuring john otway.
Whos that dragging what looks like a pink sack of spanners down the road?
His swollen folly on a supermarket trolley to alleviate the load
Testicular tomfoolery
To the rescue of humanity
It looks a lot of balls to me
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Whos that lad with his cobblers clad in a disguise of some form?
When the cosmic power of a meteorite shower made them swell beyond the norm
Now here he comes to save mankind
His enormous nuts not far behind
And theyre not the salted kind
He cures mutes and alcoholics
When they first see his bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Theres bags of fun with buster
See them shine with evil lustre
Buster! watch out for that revolving door
Ooh buster! they look so incredibly sore
Buster! especially as you drag them through that powerful
Cleaning agent someone spilled upon the floor
Ooh buster! why do you let your sack swing so low?
Sax swing solo? yeah!
Fun and japes and merry frolics
With buster gonads bulbous bouncing . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his super scrotal cluster
Doctor who could defeat the daleks
If he had busters swinging space age . . .
Bags of fun with buster
And his double sputnik thruster
Bags of fun with buster
Just to stroke them would disgust her
Bags of fun with buster
If she held them would you trust her?
Bags of fun with buster
Loads more balls than general custer
Bags of fun with buster
Lots more scrots than you could muster
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
It Could Get Much Hotter~
It could get hotter with discovery...
With the finding of all of your wires
And your sockets extra goodies
Your timers and electronic ears;
Yes, Buster, it could get hotter
Perhaps with the exposing of your innate greed...
A hedonist drowning in his own arrogance;
If all of your blueprints are found
And gone over with a fine tooth comb...
Where your motive was simply the coveting
Of other people's gold at the end of their rainbow;
It could get much, much hotter, Buster!
If your San Diego connection is blown
Or that little spark in Surprise, AZ
Jus' B Coz comes into view...;
When your group of circuits are exposed
To the natural light of day
And your ratty DNA is all over the batteries
And plugs of your once stealth activities...
When your journals and logs of our activity
Are found-with dates & details of our being
Home or gone...
And some very old condiments still taste
Of your bitter pill are found and tested;
Yes, Buster, it could get much, much hotter!
So throw that prop bible out the window...
Along with: all of your: 'God Bless you always'
For you talk out of both sides of your mouth
And Hypocrisy has found its' newest king-in you...!
Hot enough yet, Buster?
By: Theodora Onken
August 4,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Buster
Yeah, oooh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, ohh
I'm standing in the club, doing my own thing
When you thought you would approach me (hey, hey)
Saying things that you shouldn't be
I'm not your average girl
You can't put your hands on this
So I move to my right
Stay out my sight
Ooh don't trip
So what's that scratching around here
Cos I feel a messy atmosphere
You never gonna get my love
Is that clear? (ooh yeah)
You can't creep up to me fool
I'm too focused to lose my cool
See you from a mile away, ohh
Chorus:
Buster trying to get his hands on me
Spinning a lie to get me in a taxi
No ****** in your sting (no!)
You ain't getting a thing (NO!)
Buster trying to some dirty
Trying to simulate a fantasy
Not that easy can't you understand (NO!)
I'll repeat it again (NO!)
A negative response is all that you're gonna get
But now I'm too turned off
You ain't gonna flip my switch
Cos I'm not your average girl
I'm not gonna take your game
So I move to the left
Shadow my step
Ain't got no shame
So what's that scratching around here
Cos I feel a messy atmosphere
Never gonna get my love
Is that clear? (ooh)
You can't creep up to me fool
I'm too focused to lose my cool
See you from a mile away, oohh
Chorus:
Buster trying to get his hands on me
Spinning a lie to get me in a taxi
No ****** in your sting (no!)
You ain't getting a thing (NO!)
Buster trying to some dirty
Trying to simulate a fantasy
Not that easy can't you understand (NO!)
Should I'll repeat it again (NO!)
Ice, cool I wanna melt you down
Buster I've seen your type around
Your sting, you know you it can't get me home bound
I can feel you playa sucking up the atmosphere
Trying to get me home but I thought I told you (NO!)
But I thought I told you (NO!)
B-b-but I thought I told you
Chorus:
Buster trying to get his hands on me (in a taxi)
Spinning a lie to get me in a taxi
No ****** in your sting (no!)
You ain't getting a thing (NO!)
Buster trying to some dirty
Trying to simulate a fantasy
Not that easy can't you understand (NO!)
Should I'll repeat it again? (NO!)
Chorus:
Buster trying to get his hands on me
Spinning a lie to get me in a taxi
No ****** in your sting (no!)
You ain't getting a thing (NO!)
Buster trying to some dirty
Trying to simulate a fantasy
Not that easy can't you understand (NO!)
Should I'll repeat it again (NO!)
song performed by by Sugababes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Prince
Buster, he sold the heat
With a rocksteady beat
An earthquake is erupting
But not in orange street
A ghost dance is preparing
You got to help us with your feet
If youre not in the mood to dance
Step back, grab yourself a seat
This may not be uptown jamaica
But we promise you a treat
Buster bowl me over with your bogus dance
Shuffle me off my feet
Even though Ill keep on running
Ill never get to orange street
So I set it up myself to say
For the man who set the beat
So Ill leave it up to you out there
To get him back on his feet
Buster bowl me over with your bogus dance
Shuffle me off my feet
Even though Ill keep on runnin
Ill never get to orange street
Bring back the
Who is the
We want the
Bring back the prince
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I just want people to remember me like I remember Buster Keaton. When they talk about Buster Keaton or Gene Kelly, people say, 'Ah yes, they good.' Maybe one day, they remember Jackie Chan that way.
quote by Jackie Chan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't act, anyway. The stuff is all injected as we go along. My pictures are made without script or written directions of any kind.
quote by Buster Keaton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Southerly Buster
There's a wind that blows out of the South in the drought,
And we pray for the touch of his breath
When siroccos come forth from the North-West and North,
Or in dead calms of fever and death.
With eyes glad and dim we should sing him a hymn,
For depression and death are his foes,
And he gives us new life for the bread-winning strife—
When the glorious Old Southerly blows.
Old Southerly Buster! your forces you muster
Where seldom a wind bloweth twice,
And your ‘white-caps’ have hint of the snow caps, and glint of
The far-away barriers of ice.
No wind the wide sea on can sing such a poean
Or do the great work that you do;
Our own wind and only, from seas wild and lonely—
Old Southerly Buster!—To you!
Oh, the city is baked, and its thirst is unslaked,
Though it swallows iced drinks by the score,
And the blurred sky is low and the air seems aglow
As if breezes would cool it no more.
We are watching all hands where the Post Office stands—
We are watching out hopefully too—
For a red light shall glower from the Post Office tower
When the Southerly Buster is due.
The yachts run away at the end of the day
From the breakers commencing to comb,
For a few he may swamp in the health-giving romp
With the friendly Old Southerly home.
But he never drowns one, for the drowning is done
By the fools, or the reckless in sport;
And the alleys and slums shall be cooled when he comes
With the weary wind-jammers to port.
Oh softly he plays through the city’s hot ways
To the beds where they’re calling ‘Come quick!’
He is gentle and mild round the feverish child,
And he cools the hot brow of the sick.
Clearing drought-hazy skies, up the North Coast he hies
Till the mouths of our rivers are fair—
And along the sea, too, he has good work to do,
For he takes the old timber-tubs there.
’Tis a glorious mission, Old Sydney’s Physician!
Broom, Bucket, and Cloth of the East,
’Tis a breeze and a sprayer that answers our prayer,
And it’s free to the greatest and least.
The red-lamp’s a warning to drought and its scorning—
A sign to the city at large—
Hence! Headache and Worry! Despondency hurry!
Old Southerly Buster’s in charge
Old Southerly Buster! your forces you muster
Where seldom a wind bloweth twice,
And your ‘white-caps’ have hint of the snow caps, and glint of
The far-away barriers of ice.
No wind the wide sea on can sing such a poean
Or do the great work that you do;
Our own wind and only, from seas wild and lonely—
Old Southerly Buster!—To you!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The thrill I got discovering Buster Keaton when I was growing up was so exciting. He was one of the greats.
quote by John Cleese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Originally they wanted me to be Buster but I really like the Tobias part.
quote by David Cross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're not leaving here without Buster, man. Leave no crash-test dummy behind!
quote by Adam Savage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think of Mike Myers as the Buster Keaton of today. I think he's brought us something so special.
quote by Robert Wagner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex is the medicine.
A great rejuvenator and
The greatest stress buster
Is sex that you must indulge in
As often as you can
With a partner or with the hand.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The idea was to make a movie ourselves with everyone playing a cameo role. Preferably before we all go, 'cos poor old Charlie Wilson was murdered, and of course Buster has gone.
quote by Ronald Biggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Buster's Mal Heart [trailer 2]
Rami Malek, DJ Qualls, Kate Lyn Sheil, Lin Shaye, Toby Huss, Mark Kelly, Teresa Yenque, Bruce Bundy
by Sarah Adina Smith from Buster's Mal Heart (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Buster's Mal Heart
Rami Malek, DJ Qualls, Kate Lyn Sheil, Lin Shaye, Toby Huss, Mark Kelly, Teresa Yenque, Bruce Bundy
by Sarah Adina Smith from Buster's Mal Heart (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Suitcases Don't Have Wings
Small bags big bags
Black bags white bags
Suitcases hey hey hey
For work and for play
Crammed full of things
Suitcases dont have wings
White bags black bags
Complete with one-way tags
Dragging us down
Ever closer to the ground
All the time they sing
Suitcases dont have wings
Big bags small bags
That behind us we drag
Past present and future
We cram so much in n' gotcha
We've been forgetting
suitcases dont have wings
All bags every bag
That we painfully drag
Drop them at jesus feet
Cause all ur needs he'll meet
Suitcases hey hey hey
They get in the way
Drop them if you want in
Suitcases dont have wings
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Step Beyond
Hey you, dont watch that
Watch this!
This is the heavy heavy monster sound
The nuttiest sound around
So if youve come in off the street
And youre beginning to feel the heat
Well listen buster
You better start to move your feet
To the rockinest, rock-steady beat
Of madness
One step beyond!
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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H.a.a.r.p!
h.a.a.r.p,
military ionosphere buster!
global vandalism...
change the weather...
earthquakes, tornadoes,
hurricanes....
mental manipulation!
crowd control...
cutting through the ionosphere
like a knife...
the power to change
the universe, both without,
and within....
the power to control....
men playing gods
wearing demonic shoes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please Dont Do It In Here
Billie holiday / buster harding
Break down the door
Chop up the floor
Kick out the ceilin
And anything more
But, baby, please dont do it in here
Kick off the roof
Break out the panes
Smash in the walls
And bust out your brains
But, baby, please dont do it in here
Took me years to get my path straight
Im gonna keep it that way
Dont intend to have it torn up
Listen to what I say
So take all the money
Steal all the clothes
Shoot off your pistol
Cause anything goes
But, baby, please dont do it in here
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sam's Racehorse
When Sam Small retired from the Army
He'd a pension of ninepence a day,
And seven pounds fourteen and twopence
He'd saved from his rations and pay.
He knew this 'ere wasn't a fortune,
But reckoned with prudence and care
He'd find some investment to save him
From hard work and things like that there.
He thought he'd invest in a race orse,
As apart from excitement and fun
He'd be able to sit down in comfort
And live on the money he won.
He knew buying 'orses was tricky,
But that didn't daunt him at all;
He said "They must rise early 't mornin
As wants to play tricks on Sam Small!"
When he called on the local 'Orse-dealer
Surprise rooted him to the spot,
For he found 'twere his old Comp'ny Sergeant,
Whose kindness he'd never forgot.
'Twere a happy reunion on both sides,
Their pleasure at meeting was great,
For each hoped to diddle the other
And wipe a few grudges off slate.
The Sergeant brought out his race 'orses,
For which he asked various sums;
They hadn't a tooth left between them,
But Sam knew their age by their gums.
Sam studied their lines and deportment
As Sergeant were trotting them round,
And told him he reckoned their value
Were fourpence, per race 'orse, per pound.
Now the Sarg. had a filly called Buster
As he hadn't said nothing about,
But when Sam turned his nose up at t'others
He thought as he'd best trot her out.
Sam were struck with her youthful appearance,
Though there wasn't much light in the place,
For her teeth were all pearly and even
And there wasn't a line on her face.
The Sergeant asked Sam twenty guineas,
But Sam, who were up to his tricks,
Pretended he thought he'd said shillings
And offered him eighteen and six.
In the end he paid eight guineas for her,
And when he'd got home with the goods
He reckoned he'd not done so badly,
For three of the guineas was duds.
But later, when he thought it over,
A doubt through his mind seemed to creep,
If Buster were all she were painted,
Why the Sergeant had sold her so cheap.
He very soon found out the answer
When he looked at her close in her stall,
She'd the marks where her face had been lifted
And a mouth full of false teeth an' all.
The little walk home had fatigued her
And the cold air had started her cough;
Sam reckoned he'd best see the Sergeant
And tell him the bargain was off.
The place were locked up when he got there,
And he realized Sergeant had bunked,
So back he went home in a dudgeon
And found Buster lying-defunct.
Sam knew if he wanted to sell her
He mustn't let on she were dead,
So he raffled her down at the Darts Club-
Forty members at five bob a head.
The raffle were highly successful,
They all came in every man jack
And so's winner'd have no cause to grumble
Sam gave him his five shillings back.
poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Samsonite Man
I don't wanna do this over and over
(verse 1)
He's a man so full of style and grace
Any woman being impressed
Takes a smile and paints it on your face
Makes you feel like you've been blessed
Promises things so special
Seems to come right from a song
Soon as you begin to feel secure
Turn around and he is gone
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
(verse 2)
Maybe he is just a rollin stone
Wandering from here to there
Searching for a place to call his home
Wonder if he even cares
So many years of heartache and pain
That's all you seem to know him for
Is it you, or is it he to blame?
Whenever he walks out your door
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
Where you're always running to, away from me?
(bridge)
If the wind blows you in my direction
You'd come through the rendezvous
Forget about your good attention
Leave me lonely and confused
Mr.Samsonite pack a bag
That is my suggestion
From here on out you will be leaving
My discretion yeah
So I know the game baby
And it will never be the same (no no no no no)
cause now I got him
(chorus)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go (Now you gotta go)
Packing his bags,gotta go (I can't take it no more)
Packing his bags,gotta go, gotta go (What do I love him for)
Packing his bags,gotta go
He's a Samsonite Man
Why don't you just go
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, woah woah yeah yeah
You can't hurt me no more baby
You can't touch me
You can't hurt me no more baby
Gotta go, gotta go
Pack your bag, pack it up
Gotta go, hit the road Jack
You ain't gotta go home, but you can get the hell outta here
song performed by by Alicia Keys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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