Oh rake, rapine and roar. 1
“Bah!” says your wife,
The callous bint. 2
Gluttony, gluttony, gluttony,
Glutton, gluttony, pride? 3
To live is not to prosper,
You breathe but not for joy,
Not to be is better,
God’s discarded toy. 4
Shit, I’m late for my tea 5
1. With two exceptions (Hello Mother, can I touch you? and Bong-A-Long) all of Bitnittity’s works start with reference to garden tools. The rapine is an obscure piece of equipment, used only in some of the more zealous sects of Thai hedge dis- cipline.
2. It is unclear what this refers to, since Bitnittity never married, and some experts suggest he never even talked to a woman outside of his immediate fam- ily (apart, it almost goes without saying, from the well documented incident with Jackie Onassis. For a thorough treatment of this event, see Uytfard’s work A Good Day In Dallas, and the subsequent film adaptation by Michael Bay). Despite this reticence towards the opposite sex, he filled out half of a marriage certificate eve- ry morning, just in case. It is my opinion that this practice significantly contribut- ed to 2nd and 5th bankruptcies, although it must be noted that I am in the scholarly minority on this matter. The general con- sensus holds that the main factors were his costly addictions to methampheta- mines and postage stamps, respectively.
3. It is a matter of no dispute whatsoev- er that Bitnittity’s favourite sin was envy.
4. This bit is rubbish, and should be disregarded.
5. Notice how the sublime use of me- ter brings to mind images of quiet, ruffled dignity. How the rhyme scheme at lasts unveils itself, as if a particularly expensive stripper. How the use of priapic metaphor excites the passions within your limbs. Even as I write this, the sheer beauty brings me to big, blubbery tears, which roll down my cheek, and dilute my noo- dle soup to the point of palatability. Truly, the greatest poet of his generation.