Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In The Bed
(Kinky Friedman)
You uppity women I don't understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
You'd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning you're out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your Maiden Form for Lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman that's ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin' him that he's wrong.
Eve said to Adam, ?Here's an apple you horse?
And Delilah defoliated Samson's moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you can't love a male chauvinist
You'd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
That's what I to my baby said,
Women's liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Get Your Biscuits In The Oven & Your Buns In The Bed
(kinky friedman)
You uppity women I dont understand
Why you gotta go and try to act like a man,
But before you make your weekly visit to the shrink
Youd better occupy the kitchen, liberate the sink.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Early every morning youre out on the street
Passing out pamphlets to everyone you meet.
You gave up your maiden form for lent
And now the front of your dress has an air scoop vent.
Every single brakeman thats ever come along
Had a little woman always tellin him that hes wrong.
Eve said to adam, heres an apple you horse
And delilah defoliated samsons moss.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
Mean-hearted harpies are breaking all the laws
Tearing up their girdles and a-burning up their bras,
Now the air is dirty and the sex is clean
And your coffee makes my hair turn green.
So damn emancipated in your mind and your body,
Gonna have to cancel all your lessons in karate.
If you cant love a male chauvinist
Youd better cross me off your shopping list.
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
Thats what I to my baby said,
Womens liberation is a-going to your head,
Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bacon Biscuit Blues
Put your biscuits in the oven
Honey, put your buns in bed
I wanna come inside your kitchen
Wanna taste your shortening bread
I want to jump into your skillet
Honey, tickle your home fries
I gotta hambone working fill it
Wont you try it on for size
Uh uh uh uh uh
Baby ask me no questions
Ill tell you no lies
Put your biscuits in the oven
Honey, watch my dumplin
Rise up - early in the morning
Rise up - late at night
Rise up - gotta get me a warning
Rise up - gonna whet your appetite
Gonna shake and bake you honey
I want a catcher in the rye
I wanna sop up all your gravy
From your deep dish apple pie
So open up your menu
I wanna slice your honey dew
I love it honey when you
Do me like you do
Uh uh uh uh uh
And if you ask me no questions
And tell me no lies
Put your biscuits in the oven
Honey, watch my dumplin
Rise up - early in the morning
Rise up - late late late at night
Rise up - giving me no warning
Rise up - gonna wet your appetite
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Risk Your Biscuits
Don't risk your biscuits.
Keep those biscuits mystic.
If they're found delicious,
Keep the people licking their lips.
Do not risk those biscuits,
For suggestions or tips.
From others who just want them to be,
Buttered and split!
When you took them out the oven,
You knew then the flavor would...
Bring joy to some.
Like no others had done.
And when they jellied up those biscuits,
With a favorite beverage...
A stirring had begun.
Making your biscuits their number one.
Do not risk those biscuits,
For suggestions or tips.
From others who just want them to be,
Buttered and split!
Eaten and enjoyed.
Making a habit of it!
You can choose and decide,
If you want them addicted!
But...
When you took them out the oven,
You knew then the flavor would...
Bring joy to some.
Like no others had done.
So...
Don't risk your biscuits.
Keep those biscuits mystic.
If they're found delicious,
Keep the people licking their lips.
Knowing only you,
Can do these biscuits like this!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gathering Pecans
fond childhood memories
of gathering pecans
from beneath the pecan tree
linger on
the sweet smell
of mother's sticky buns
baking in the oven
poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drop Your Buns Aunt Betty
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty.
Would you like a bowl of soup,
To boot that mood that has you pooped.
From all that mixing in the kitchen fixing food that you do.
There's some noodles with onions and peppers in it too!
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back...
And relax.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's a Bit Too Kinky
Your cookies sought,
Does not release the thought of nookie!
The moment I feel the sweetened heat,
Of your oven...
There is a temptation,
To have my hands on your buns as well.
Just the smell of it quickens my rise!
Are you surprised,
I am stripped and appear butt naked?
I have been practicing that all day!
What are you getting ready to do...
With that spatula,
You hold in your mittened hands!
That's a bit too kinky for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I can still memory - taste the fresh buttermilk pancakes and hot buttermilk biscuits - both made with lard! - that were cooked on the top, or in the oven, of that ancient iron stove.
quote by Vernon L. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Easter
Once my English teacher explained in the literature class,
'A spring festival commemorating Christ's resurrection.'
I dreamed the next door baker bakes Easter buns
And all of a sudden Judas jumped to the oven.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ineptness
Carry a big stick,
To threaten from a distance.
Send me pictures of it...
To upset me quick,
With visions I'll be hit with it!
But you'll be wrong wrong.
And I'll be long gone!
Foot power...
Zip.
I like buttered biscuits,
Baked and fresh.
Heated from the oven,
And tasting their best!
You can bring that big stick,
To threaten me with it.
But when I've eaten buttered biscuits,
I'm prepared to split.
Humming a song...
With,
Foot power...zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Ineptness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Oven Liet
Where the flesh goes,
The mind follows.
The body is weak.
Why she left me alone.
How she got sick.
And no one calls the phone.
Never had to cook with her around
Now I found a light in the most unexpected place
The oven.
I sit in the dark tonight
In the kitchen
With only the oven light
While I try to mend.
And I brood like a chicken with her eggs
My seat feels like it's hatching
My bottom is burning
My soul squirming like a worm
Or a snake.
Yellow.
The color of companionship.
Cowardly, fearful, impertinent.
I stare into the oven
Light.
poem by Eon Ezkiel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Test My Appetite
Some prefer and choose perfection,
To convey ideals...
Promoted to instill.
With a showing of a knowledge...
In a hope that this appeals.
And then there are those,
Who have chosen to be real.
Grounded and solid of sound minds.
To find they are critiqued...
By those of the pretentious kind.
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
In these times,
I will nourish first...
Before rehearsing any refinement,
I've learned from the past.
But today does not work.~
'It is not proper etiquette,
To dip biscuits in stew.'
~Hey...
I am here to eat.
Not to see what others do.
And IF you're looking for a silver spoon.
To eat your stew?
You go and do that.
And my biscuits will be in your stew too!
Go ahead!
Test my appetite!
I dare you.
Leave that stew.
And I'll show you what can be done with it.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me Now,
Uh...
Uh...
Uh...
What you waiting for?
I know you're watching me
Hey boy, come on and take me now
What you waiting for?
I know you're watching me
Hey boy, come on and take me now
Can I talk to you for a minute
You've been looking all night for your shining star
Well baby here I am, so why you waiting?
Step on over, let me show you how bad you are
Just let me take the lead
All you gotta do is let your mind be free
Lets hit the floor and cause a scene
Get real wet if you know what I mean
What you say baby?
(And she said)
Take me now
I'm hungry for your loving
(And she said)
Show me how
You got me working, honey
(And she said)
Right now
I'm hot just like an oven
(And she said)
So take me now
Boy you make me feel like I gotta dance
I gotta dance, gotta dance baby, I gotta dance...
I feel good to you, you try to hide it
And I can tell by the way you push up close to me
Your body temperature, is arising
Something's going down as far as I can see
Just let me take the lead
All you gotta do is let your mind be free
Lets hit the floor and cause a scene
Get real wet if you know what I mean
What you say baby?
(And she said)
Take me now
I'm hungry for your loving
(And she said)
Show me how
You got me working, honey
(And she said)
Right now
I'm hot just like an oven
(And she said)
So take me now
Boy make me feel like I gotta dance
You know
Don't I
Say don't I make you feel like you gotta dance
Once I get to know ya
(No)
I'm gonna show ya
(No)
That there's no better way
(Yea)
Lets dance the night away
(Yea)
I wanna control ya
(No)
Just wanna hold ya
(No)
Dance the night away
So what you say baby, what you say
(What you saying to me)
(And she said)
Take me now
(Oh)
I'm hungry for your loving
(Hungry for you)
(And she said)
Show me how
(Oh)
You got me working, honey
(Got me working)
(And she said)
Right now
(Oh)
I'm hot just like an oven
(Hot just like an oven)
(And she said)
So take me now
Boy you make me feel like I gotta dance
(And she said)
Take me now
(Oh)
I'm hungry for your loving
(Hungry for you)
(And she said)
Show me how
(Oh)
You got me working, honey
(Got me working)
(And she said)
Right now
(Oh)
I'm hot just like an oven
(And she said)
So take me now
Boy you make me feel like I gotta dance
Like you gotta dance, like you gotta dance, like you gotta dance, no...
Like you gotta dance, like you gotta dance, like you gotta dance, no...
Here we go now
Oh, oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
Oh
I'm like a hurricane
Just coasting along
You better grab me girl
I hope you take me now
I'm like a hurricane
Just coasting along
You better grab me girl
I hope you take me now
I'm like a hurricane
Just coasting along
You better grab me girl
I hope you take me now
I'm like a hurricane
Just coasting along
You better grab me girl
Ttttttake me now
Take me now
I'm hungry for you loving
Show me how
You got me working, honey
Right now
I'm hot just like an oven
So take me now
Take me now
Take me now
Take me now
I'm hungry for you loving
Show me how
You got me working, honey
Right now
I'm hot just like an oven
So take me now
Boy you make me feel like I gotta dance
song performed by by Justin Timberlake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Honey Biscuits And Gravy
My wife and I sat down one day
to honey biscuits and gravy
and when the last of it was on my plate
what did she say to me
She said, 'my dear devoted husband
husband of many years
would you give the last of that breakfast treat
oh would you please, my dear? '
I said, 'my wife, my darling wife
wife of many years
of biscuits and gravy I cannot part'
so with my fork I began to start
But before I could reach the plate
I was stopped by my hungry mate
She said, 'I'll give you silver and gold
all the fortunes yet untold
if you'll give what's on your plate
the still standing honey biscuit and gravy'
I said, 'my dear, darling wife
wife of many a day
nothing short of a great earthquake
can make me part with my plate'
And then she grew desperate
a horrid fiend intemperate, she said
'You'll be the sole head of the estate
for that last serving of biscuits and gravy! '
I said, 'dear, devoted wife
wife of many a day
you don't know that with what you give
so willingly away'
She said, 'a small price, a small price
I eagerly will pay
for that last remaining morsel
left standing on your plate'
So I did the deed, I confess
and now I must say
my wife's head tasted just as good
as honey biscuits and gravy
poem by Kevin Howell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the Zoo
There are lions and roaring tigers,
and enormous camels and things,
There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons,
and a great big bear with wings.
There's a sort of a tiny potamus,
and a tiny nosserus too -
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!
There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers,
and a Super-in-tendent's House,
There are masses of goats, and a Polar,
and different kinds of mouse,
And I think there's a sort of a something
which is called a wallaboo -
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!
If you try to talk to the bison,
he never quite understands;
You can't shake hands with a mingo -
he doesn't like shaking hands.
And lions and roaring tigers
hate saying, "How do you do?" -
But I give buns to the elephant
when I go down to the Zoo!
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX...by talile ali
DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX
GRAB ME BY THE HAND
MAKE ME UNDERSTAND
HAD A MASTER PLAN
THE USE OF ALL OUR GLANDS
UP AND DOWN SHE GOES
OH HOW THE LADY KNOWS
WHAT TO STROKE AND WHAT TO BITE
THE LADY KNOWS JUST WHAT I LIKE
DIRTY CRAZY MONKEY SEX ME PLEASE
YOU GOT ME ON MY ACHING KNEES
YOU KNOW I WANT IT ALL THE TIME
THE WAY YOU DO ME, MAKE'S ME SHINE
PEEL MY ONION
WHILE YOU MAKE ME CREAM
A LIL BIT A ME
AND A WHOLE BUNCHA STEAM
I LIKE YOUR LOVIN ME
AFTER LUNCH
ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE DOIN
ME A WHOLE BUNCH
LIKE DIRTY DANCIN
LIKE NAKED PRANCIN
AND THAT ALL
DAY ROMANCIN
NEED YOUR FUNKY LOVIN
DEEP INSIDE YOUR OVEN
NEED YOU NOW TO
BAKE MY LUSTS AWAY
I GOT THE RIGHT BREAD FOR YOUR OVEN
BAKED HARD WITH YOUR LOVIN
ENCUBATED BY YOUR NEED
TO PLEASE
WHILE MY LIPS ADDRESS YOUR BUST
I SIMPLY TURN TO DUST
IN THE ECSTACY OF
YOUR NEEDS
GET YOU NAKED IN MY BED
GRIND THEM LIPS AROUND MY HEAD
TILL YOUR HIPS ARE HARD AND FULL
READY FOR MY TAFFY PULL, BABY
LET MY GRIP COME ADDRESS YOUR WOOL, BABY
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A cake is a very good test of an oven: if it browns too much on one side and not on the other, it's not your fault - you need to have your oven checked.
quote by Delia Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stand-Ins
In the dream
the swastika is neon
and flashes like a strobe light
into my eyes, all colors,
all vibrations
and I see the killer in him
and he turns on an oven,
an oven, an oven, an oven,
and on a pie plate he sticks
in my Yellow Star
and then
then when it is ready for serving—
this dream goes off into the wings
and on stage The Cross appears,
with Jesus sticking to it
and He is breathing
and breathing
and He is breathing
and breathing
and then He speaks,
a kind of whisper,
and says . . .
This is the start.
This is the end.
This is a light.
This is a start.
I woke.
I did not know the hour,
an hour of night like thick scum
but I considered the dreams,
the two: Swastika, Crucifix,
and said: Oh well,
it doesn't belong to me,
if a cigar can be a cigar
then a dream can be a dream.
Right?
Right?
And went back to sleep
and another start.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Love and Its Desserts
There was before me
the carefully prepared plate
the feast of feasts
and she said
'this is my love.'
The dessert was
jubilant
and she took
from the oven
pie after pie
and I ate.
But how to say
that Love's Substitute
is not the meal I eat
nor are the biscuits
the Love I crave
even tho it's the
love she's got to give.
If the Love Train passes
in this night
who to say where
those passing trains
will curve back
and meet
at some future point?
She says I can only give
you the love I have to give
and I say but I need the love
I need to have.
Try as I may
dinner is good
but I'll not be able to see
that it is love of which I dreamed
even though it is the love you
have to give.
So loving her as I do
I eat
too much
and see her love
grow
each year
around my waist.
But that is the measure
of how we take the love
sometimes offered
even if it is not the love
of which we've dreamed.
If perfect love
would come along
maybe I'd not be worthy
even as I crave
its perfect tones.
So perhaps
I'll substitute
her deserts
with a hand-feeding
of celery sticks
and love-making
in the afternoon.
Humm,
does that work?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Texture
It is not important,
What it does.
How it does it.
Or if it is viable,
To those who deem it as a need.
If it feels good.
And the texture of it is right...
It will be made to be in demand.
Felt and caressed between one's hands...
Before the stock market is closed!
With the booting of buns.
Whether they are tightly held or not!
'You mean 'bonds'? '
Buns, bonds, balls...
Whatever.
This is about texture!
The feel and the description of it!
Not what they are called.
But how they feel!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Biscuits and Bread
Though moulded of the same dough,
were all cast of a different mould,
most rise soft and springy as bread,
other misfits end up as biscuits instead,
yet none wants to be the thing that they were born and bred,
to be,
and it baffles me, the irony,
that though there's time for each,
in any ordinary bakery,
bread soon tries to harden,
and winds up stale instead,
and biscuits crumble, become brittle,
soon as they try to soften,
and be bread.
poem by Kevin Gachuma Waithaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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