Diet Song
Well breakfast black coffee one slice of dry toast no butter no jelly no jam
Lunch just some lettuce two celery stalks no booze no potatoes no ham
Dinner one chicken wing broiled not fried no gravy no biscuits no pie
And this dietin' dietin' dietin' dietin' sure is a rough way to die
So pass me a carrot stick peel me a prune a glass of skim milk and that's all
Turn off the TV for the Big Mac commercial it's drivin' me straight up the wall
And I'm think' of french fries sausage and waffles spaghetti and cookies and cake
And each night I'm dreamin' of chocolate ice cream and
I'm starvin' to death when I wake all for your sake
You're fixin' the kids all those creamed mashed potatoes
But it's bouillon and water for me and you got a lock on the refrigerator
Lord knows where you're hidin' the key
And while I am starvin' for food late at night I'm starvin' for lovin' from you
But you say that when I can see my own dick you'll be glad to look at it too
So supper two pieces of cauliflower raw some beefsteak the size of a nail
One sliced tomato a small dab of slaw I swear I ate better in jail
Stop eatin' that pizza right under my nose girl that's the least you can do
And put down that candy bar while I am singin' I'm starvin' my ass off for you
And when I am dead with the insurance paid you'll look down at me and you'll grin
You'll say well the boy tried and he suffered and died
But don't he look good when he's thin
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Hot Potatoes
My baby woke me up this mornin
She said get down that labour exchange,
And if you dont come home with a job son,
Youll get no dinner to-day.
You gotta secure me a weekly workin wage.
Youll get no more fancy cookin,
Youll get no more apple pie,
Youll just get those plain hot potatoes
To satisfy your appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin every single day.
I said I dont need your fancy cooking,
I like the simple things in life,
Just give me those plain hot potatoes
And Ill be well satisfied,
Theyll satisfy my appetite.
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, yeh,
I want your lovin 60 minutes an hour,
I want your lovin 24 hours a day,
I want your lovin 7 days a week.
Yeh, yeh, oh yeh.
I want your love, I need your love,
But all I get is hot potatoes
When I come home late at night
To satisfy my appetite.
Dont give me no more potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes,
I want your lovin every single day.
I want your lovin
La la la la la la potatoes,
Boiled, french fried, any old way that you wanna decide.
Hot potatoes, hot potatoes, yeh.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Something Refreshing
Yeah
Im hungry
Im starving
I want some food for my tummy
I want some
Pizza coke and ice cream
Popcorn cotton candy
Marshmallows milkshake and peanuts
Would be so great
Pies chips candy apples
Twinkies frosted flakes
Donuts french fries
And some chocolate cake with mustard
Cookies avocados pancakes
Pineapple juice
Whipped cream on some raw meat
Thats not all I could eat
Im hungry
Im starving
I want some food for my tum...
I want some
Honey roasted walnuts
Pepperoni slices
Pasta and burritos
Different kinds of rices
Cherries dipped in chocolate
Cottage cheese and jelly
Colonel sanders chicken
Still wont fill my belly
Broccoli sticky syrup
Churros dipped in sauce
Drippy sloppy joes
Then Im full at last
Ahhh ahhh
Im full at last
Burp.
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Something Refreashing
Yeah
Im hungry
Im starving
I want some food for my tummy
I want some
Pizza coke and ice cream
Popcorn cotton candy
Marshmallows milkshake and peanuts
Would be so great
Pies chips candy apples
Twinkies frosted flakes
Donuts french fries
And some chocolate cake with mustard
Cookies avocados pancakes
Pineapple juice
Whipped cream on some raw meat
Thats not all I could eat
Im hungry
Im starving
I want some food for my tum...
I want some
Honey roasted walnuts
Pepperoni slices
Pasta and burritos
Different kinds of rices
Cherries dipped in chocolate
Cottage cheese and jelly
Colonel sanders chicken
Still wont fill my belly
Broccoli sticky syrup
Churros dipped in sauce
Drippy sloppy joes
Then Im full at last
Ahhh ahhh
Im full at last
Burp.
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Something Refreshing
Yeah yay oh
I'm hungry yeah
I said I'm starving yeah
I want some Pizza Coke and ice cream popcorn
cotton candy
Marshmallows milkshake and peanuts would be
so great
Pies chips candy apples Twinkies Frosted
Flakes
And donuts french fries and some chocolate
cake with mustard
Cookies avocados pancakes pineapple juice
Whipped cream on some raw meat
That's not all I could...
Eat
I'm hungry
I want some food for my tum
I want some honey roasted walnuts pepperoni
slices
Pasta and burritos different kinds of rices
Cherries dipped in chocolate cottage cheese
and jelly
Colonel Sander's chicken still won't fill my
belly
Broccoli sticky syrup churros dipped in sauce
Drippy sloppy joes then I'm full at last
Oh oh oh oh oh oh I'm full at last
And I'm full at I'm really really full at
And I'm full at last
I'm full at I'm really really full at
I'm full at last
And I'm full at I'm really really full at
I'm full at last
Full
(BURP!)
song performed by by No Doubt from No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheeseburger In Paradise
Cheeseburger in paradise
By: jimmy buffett
1978
Tried to amend my carnivorous habits
Made it nearly seventy days
Losin' weight without speed, eatin' sunflower seeds
Drinkin' lots of carrot juice and soakin' up rays
But at night i'd had these wonderful dreams
Some kind of sensuous treat
Not zuchinni, fettucini or bulghar wheat
But a big warm bun and a huge hunk of meat
Chorus:
Cheeseburger in paradise (paradise)
Heaven on earth with an onion slice (paradise)
Not too particular not too precise (paradise)
I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise
Heard about the old time sailor men
They eat the same thing again and again
Warm beer and bread they said could raise the dead
Well it reminds me of the menu at a holiday inn
Times have changed for sailors these days
When i'm in port i get what i need
Not just havanas or bananas or daiquiris
But that american creation on which i feed
Chorus:
Cheeseburger in paradise (paradise)
Medium rare with mustard 'be nice (paradise)
Heaven on earth with an onion slice (paradise)
I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise
I like mine with lettuce and tomato
Heinz 57 and french fried potatoes
Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer
Well good god almighty which way do i steer for my
Chorus:
Cheeseburger in paradise (paradise)
Makin' the best of every virtue and vice (paradise)
Worth every damn bit of sacrifice (paradise)
To get a cheeseburger in paradise
To be a cheeseburger in paradise
I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise
Coda:
I like mine with lettuce and tomato
Heinz 57 and french fried potatoes
Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer
Well good god almighty which way do i steer for my
- notes:
Background vocals: deborah mccoll, penny nichols, lea jane berinati,
Janie fricke, ginger holladay
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peanut Butter: My Old Friend.....[Personal; Food]
I had a peanut butter sandwich today
which made me think of all the way....
sssss my life has been touched by that
stick-to-your-mouth sludge of peanut fat.
Not 'touched' in the sense that's it's shaped my life,
but when I open a jar and take up a knife
or a spoon, I can picture times of enjoy-
ment as an adult consumer and as a boy.
Of course I'm lucky in that I generally enjoy food
even if I'm in a rare bad mood.
I assume pb was a common snack in my childhood,
though I'm not sure it was. My memory is not that good.
But I do remember my Mom made cookies from it;
I helped her. And the first cooled cookie I'm sure I bit,
paying some attention to the crisscross pattern on top,
or the sometimes-present big chocolate drop.
And when I visited my childhood neighbor, Helen, it's a good bet
that sometimes a peanut butter sandwich I would get.
[But I really better remember that Helen's kitchen at times had cake.
I assume her mother, Betty, the cake did make.]
At Halloween there were pb 'cups' made by Reeses.
Chocolate and pb. It's good they were small pieces!
As an adult pb has been with me off and on.
Probably when I shared a home with my brother Don,
and when Shannon, my daughter, was young (that makes me smile) ,
and when I lived in a storage garage for a short while.
I used to put it on plain warm toast, but
perhaps mixed-with-vanilla-ice cream I enjoyed it most.
I can't tell you how it would taste on sliced tomato,
but I can say it wasn't good when tried on mashed potato! !
And as I type today there's an unsealed jar nearby.
My wife cautions me against too much, but I'm not sure why.
From time to time it's a treat on cereal or bread,
but usually it's just a spoon of it I stick into my head.
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Potato' Poem
I love potatoes chopped up into chunky chips.
I love spicy potato wedges, served up with dips.
I love potato slices which have been fried in a pan:
Of sautéed potatoes, I am the world's biggest fan.
I love potatoes which have been pummelled and bashed
With butter and milk to make a real light, fluffy mash.
Jacket potatoes, I find a bit dry, but with a nice filling
Such as chilli, to give them a try, I am more willing.
With breakfast, I love hash browns or potato cakes,
And I love potatoes mixed up with leeks in a bake.
Crispy, golden potatoes, served up with Sunday roast
Are among the kinds of potato which I love the most.
Mixed in soups and casseroles, I love potatoes diced.
On top on minced beef hotpot, I love potatoes sliced.
Fluffy potato stuffed inside a crispy potato croquette
Is also rather nice, and, for me, it is another safe bet.
I love potatoes cut into crisps: the slices, wafer thin,
And, as a starter, I simply love loaded potato skins:
I do adore a delicious dish of Bombay potato curry:
For me, it is a taste which I won't forget in a hurry.
I like potatoes diced up with creamy mayonnaise,
Served up with salad on really hot summer days.
But I don't like potatoes which have been boiled:
From potatoes, cooked this way, in horror, I recoil.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Gas
my grandmother had a serious gas
problem.
we only saw her on Sunday.
she'd sit down to dinner
and she'd have gas.
she was very heavy,
80 years old.
wore this large glass brooch,
that's what you noticed most
in addition to the gas.
she'd let it go just as food was being served.
she'd let it go in bursts
spaced about a minute apart.
she'd let it go
4 or 5 times
as we reached for the potatoes
poured the gravy
cut into the meat.
nobody ever said anything,
especially me.
I was 6 years old.
only my grandmother spoke.
after 4 or 5 blasts
she would say in an offhand way,
'I'll bury you all!'
I didn't much like that:
first farting
then saying that.
it happened every Sunday.
she was my father's mother.
every Sunday it was death and gas
and mashed potatoes and gravy
and that big glass brooch.
those Sunday dinners would
always end with apple pie and
ice cream
and a big argument
about something or other,
my grandmother finally running out the door
and taking the red train back to
Pasadena
the place stinking for an hour
and my father walking about
fanning a newspaper in the air and
saying, 'it's all that damned sauerkraut
she eats!'
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Wilma's Welcome
He sat the table, fresh kid,
waiting for his dinner,
pushing back the war
now so far away.
His big brother smiled
glad to see him safe,
when she walked in,
carrying a steaming plate
of the best fried chicken
either had ever seen.
The aroma awoke in his memory
soft Ohio nights,
God's righteous thunder rumbling
gentle rains cooling the hot August sky,
when Mom carried in our dinner,
fried chicken and mashed potatoes,
safety and love.
And looking at his brother's new wife,
he smiled and at last said,
'welcome to the family! '
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weird Food Combos!
Consider a roll, with a bacon and fried banana filling;
To take a bite, would you consider yourself willing?
Worcestershire sauce poured over cheese on toast,
Is a concept which, to me, seems really rather gross.
Apple pie, topped with a melted cheddar cheese slice,
Is something, which is considered, by some, rather nice.
Chilli and dark chocolate, I think is really delightful,
But marmite and chocolate, strikes me as just frightful.
A sandwich filled with strawberries and double cream,
May be rather squidgy, but, to me, it would be a dream.
A meal served to me, with both chips and sprouts,
Is not something which I would definitely rule out.
For bacon and marmalade sandwiches, I would not rush,
But there are some people, who think that this is just lush.
It seems really popular, and I wondered what you’d make,
Of dipping French fries in custard or chocolate milkshake?
Years ago, from a supermarket chiller, I very happily chose
A pack of yoghurts: the flavours included lavender and rose.
Apparently, an omelette is good, spread with strawberry jam;
Although, you may prefer yours, filled with just cheese or ham.
A little nutmeg lightly sprinkled over hot boiled potatoes,
Is said to add depth to the taste – but it’s a strange combo!
Hot creamy custard poured over crisp, golden fish fingers,
Produces an unusual aftertaste which, in the mouth, lingers.
Raspberry jam, spread on chicken, which is barbequed,
Is another unusual combination, but is a well liked food.
Crackers topped with peanut butter and horseradish sauce,
Is not one of those combinations, which I think I’d endorse.
Apple sliced up, and mixed with chunks of fresh tuna,
Is something I may try much later, rather than sooner.
Ham which has been marinated in fresh orange juice,
Is adored by some, because of the flavour produced.
Some people love to mix different foodstuffs up together,
And they produce new exciting combos, which is so clever.
I'm glad that people experiment, and try tastes, which are new,
And invent some amazing concoctions, on which we can chew.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Bleezer's Ice Cream
I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
there are flavors in my freezer
you have never seen before,
twenty-eight divine creations
too delicious to resist,
why not do yourself a favor,
try the flavors on my list:
COCOA MOCHA MACARONI
TAPIOCA SMOKED BALONEY
CHECKERBERRY CHEDDAR CHEW
CHICKEN CHERRY HONEYDEW
TUTTI-FRUTTI STEWED TOMATO
TUNA TACO BAKED POTATO
LOBSTER LITCHI LIMA BEAN
MOZZARELLA MANGOSTEEN
ALMOND HAM MERINGUE SALAMI
YAM ANCHOVY PRUNE PASTRAMI
SASSAFRAS SOUVLAKI HASH
SUKIYAKI SUCCOTASH
BUTTER BRICKLE PEPPER PICKLE
POMEGRANATE PUMPERNICKEL
PEACH PIMENTO PIZZA PLUM
PEANUT PUMPKIN BUBBLEGUM
BROCCOLI BANANA BLUSTER
CHOCOLATE CHOP SUEY CLUSTER
AVOCADO BRUSSELS SPROUT
PERIWINKLE SAUERKRAUT
COTTON CANDY CARROT CUSTARD
CAULIFLOWER COLA MUSTARD
ONION DUMPLING DOUBLE DIP
TURNIP TRUFFLE TRIPLE FLIP
GARLIC GUMBO GRAVY GUAVA
LENTIL LEMON LIVER LAVA
ORANGE OLIVE BAGEL BEET
WATERMELON WAFFLE WHEAT
I am Ebenezer Bleezer,
I run BLEEZER'S ICE CREAM STORE,
taste a flavor from my freezer,
you will surely ask for more.
poem by Jack Prelutsky
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Albuquerque
Well, they say that santa fe is less than ninety miles away,
And I got time to roll a number and rent a car.
Oh, albuquerque.
Ive been flyin down the road, and Ive been starvin to be alone,
And independent from the scene that Ive known.
Albuquerque.
So Ill stop when I can, find some fried eggs and country ham.
Ill find somewhere where they dont care who I am.
Oh, albuquerque,
Albuquerque.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sarah Cynthia Slyvia Stout Would Not Take The Garbage Out
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown Bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the can, it covered the floor,
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones,
Drippy ends of ice cream cones,
Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel,
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,
Pizza crusts and withered greens,
Soggy beans and tangerines,
Crusts of black burned buttered toast,
Grisly bits of beefy roasts...
The garbage rolled down the hall,
It raised the roof, it broke the wall...
Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,
Globs of gooey bubble gum,
Cellophane from green baloney,
Rubbery blubbery macaroni,
Peanut butter, caked and dry,
Curdled milk and crusts of pie,
Moldy melons, dried-up mustard,
Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,
Cold french fries and rancid meat,
Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky.
And all the neighbors moved away,
And none of her friends would come to play.
And finally Sarah Cynthia Slylvia Stout said,
'Ok, I'll take the garbage out!'
But then, of course, it was too late...
The garbage reached across the state,
From New York to the Golden Gate.
And there, in the garbage she did hate,
Poor Sarah met an awful fate,
That I cannot right now relate
Because the hour is much too late.
But children, remember Sarah Stout
And always take the garbage out!
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sliced Bread
Sliced bread...
Whole wheat and toasted.
Buttered with jam,
And munched.
Either with tea, punch...
Or just plain water for lunch!
Sliced bread...
With cheddar cheese and tomato.
Add Romaine lettuce,
Topped with fried strips of bacon.
This too will certainly do.
Sliced bread...
Oatmeal raisin,
Oven baked and fed.
Sliced bread...
Crumbed to stuff a turkey.
And seasoned to gobble...
With an aftertaste on the tongue,
Deliciously nutmeged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Candy for Breakfast
MMM!
candy for breakfast!
cake for dinner!
all such a wonderful
idea
I dont care
if I get cavities
I just want some
more sweets!
MMM! main course comming up
sweet tarts, delicious,
but I'd rather have
just a few taffys
Why not throw in a few
sprinkles, hershys, taffys,
cream, cake, sugar, vanilla
MMM! candy for breakfast
why not lunch?
or dinner?
midnight snake for sure
But i dont want to
get too carried away, right?
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Preparing Dinner
I watch the pot on the stove
Water is overspilling
The rice is cooking
With bubbles galore
I smother chicken in sauce
Sauce that is made up of green pepper, black pepper and onions
Accompanied with that is the All in one spice.
Watch out for the toilet paper
The spices start talking
The chicken gets fried
The smell of breyani echoes through the house
I chop the potatoes as well as the carrots
I open up McCain veggies
And distribute it with the food
I put more spices in and the McCain veggies
Gets assimilated into the food
The pot is filled with colours
The steam fills the house
The brown chicken starts talking to the yellow potatoes
So does the carrots
The rice is strained
It rises to the core
I use tastic rice
Because it is the best out of them all
I set the table with plates
And it is ready to be filled
One by one they get dished out
First the rice (centered) and then the potatoes and chicken
Ice cream is served as desert
Coca-Cola is poured into glasses
The sweet taste bubbles in my mouth
The hot food burns my mouth
While the cold drink soothes its pain
I smother tomatoes and onions with vinegar
And serve them next to the food
The sauce gives the tongue extra kick
And goes down with a good drink
poem by Lee John Siebritz
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Chocolate Is A Food Group
I love chocolate.
So should you.
Milk chocolate,
Dark chocolate.
It's good for you, too.
Chocolate cake,
Chocolate candy,
Chocolate pie.
Take away my chocolate
And I might die.
White chocolate,
Hot chocolate,
Even chocolate soup...
Any chocolate lover knows
Chocolate is a food group.
poem by Rich Reitz
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Fussy About Food
I’ve always been really fussy about what I eat,
But I’ll tolerate most foods, if the cook cheats!
It really depends on how a food has been cooked,
Whether or not, it has a place in my good books.
Examples of my some of my most hated foods,
Are sliced roast beef and apples that are stewed.
I’ll eat beef that’s been minced up into a pie,
And apples diced into a crumble are also fine.
Fresh coriander leaves, I definitely will not touch,
But cooked in a curry, I don’t mind them so much.
On potatoes that have been boiled, I’m not that keen,
But eating mashed potato or chips, I can be often seen.
Egg and cress sandwiches, by me, are never approached,
But I love eggs that are hard boiled, fried or even poached.
I dislike the taste of carrots that have been picked fresh,
But with the taste of tinned carrots, I’m really impressed.
I’m not so keen on either petit pois or garden peas,
But with the taste of mushy peas, I’m very pleased.
In pies and pasties, I hate to have a filling of cheese,
But I’ll devour a slice of cheese on toast with ease.
I’ve been a fussy eater pretty much all of my life,
And, caused my mother much trouble and strife.
When I was small, I often left much of my dinner.
My mum often worried that I would get thinner.
Like many other children, my main course
Often ended up, smeared with tomato sauce.
The enjoyment of a meal, this often improved,
And frayed tempers were also often soothed.
If there was a certain food, which I did really hate,
My mum would still insist putting it upon my plate.
Even with it on my plate, I still didn’t like the taste,
So that particular food would inevitably go to waste.
As I’ve got older, I’ve acquired an improved appetite,
Much to my mother’s extreme relief, and total delight.
Now, as an adult, my dinner plate is often cleaned,
And, hardly ever is a single morsel left, to be seen.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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My Favourite Food
Here are some meals, which I really love to eat,
When, at the dinner table, I take my seat.
Lasagne served with a slice of garlic bread,
Is one of my real favourites, it has to be said.
Chunky chips and a tender gammon steak –
A really lovely meal for me, this would make.
Chilli con carne, served with pilau rice,
I also consider to be really rather nice.
A deep pan pizza, especially chicken supreme,
Is guaranteed to set my hungry eyes agleam.
Chicken of any kind, especially southern fried,
Is always a big hit with me, it can’t be denied.
Another of my favourites, is all-day brunch –
On this popular dish, I very often munch.
Britain’s favourite dish, bangers and mash,
I’m always extremely willing to give a bash.
Given lashings of sausage casserole,
I’m guaranteed to scrape my bowl.
I simply love a really good Indian curry,
And will gobble one up in quite a hurry.
The thought of a delicious mixed grill,
Always gives me such a real thrill.
And lovely, tender lamb chops,
For me, are pretty hard to top.
But, cooked to perfection, a Sunday roast,
Is the meal that I really love the most!
So, now here’s a selection of puds,
Which I consider to really rather good.
All of these are lovely and sweet,
And always go down an absolute treat!
At the offer of any fruit crumble,
You will never hear me grumble.
In a slice of gooey, chocolate fudge cake,
I’m always more than happy to partake.
And luscious, creamy tiramisu,
Is one of my favourites to.
A scoop of any flavour of ice cream,
Always goes down an absolute dream.
Offered a bowl of thick, creamy rice,
I wouldn’t need to be asked twice.
Of puddings with lashings of jam,
I’ve always been a particular fan.
At the sight of a fresh strawberry trifle,
My excitement, I have to try and stifle.
A slice of lemon meringue pie,
You will never see me pass by.
I adore hot, sticky, gooey, treacle tart,
It’s a pud which always warms my heart.
Chocolate, cream filled, profiteroles,
Are always guaranteed to fill a hole.
A toffee nut sundae, served in a tall glass,
Is a sweet which I consider to be pure class.
A pastry pie, with any fresh fruit filling,
For me, has always been rather thrilling.
If I was served up any of these, I’d be thrilled,
Even if I was sat right in the middle of a field!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So in our pride we ordered for breakfast an omelet, toast and coffee and what has just arrived is a tomato salad with onions, a dish of pickles, a big slice of watermelon and two bottles of cream soda.
quote by John Steinbeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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