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Don't Harsh My Squee

from Holy Crap, A New Album by Tom Smith

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In early May 2018, legendary author David Gerrold posted on Facebook about something he liked. Naturally, some yutz came along to inform him that he was wrong, and in fact the thing he liked sucked.
David responded:

"Dude — don't piss my bliss, don't chill my thrill, don't yuck my yum, don't stop my bop,l don't stomp my bomp, don't poop my boop, don't sad my glad, don't stress my bless, don't ploy my joy, don't flay my play, don't troll my droll, don't quibble my tribble —

"— or I will fucking launch your haunch."

(David uses the metaphor of the trebuchet for Blocking someone on FB. That makes this song a companion piece to "Airlock".)

Such poetry! Such vitriol! I immediately set out to write the song. I had to rearrange it to make it easier to sing, but I made sure to leave everything in there, because it was such a beautiful righteous riff.

I have been asked to create a safe-for-work version. I'll try. But, frankly, it ain't easy.

lyrics

Here I am on my Facebook page, talkin’ bout something I like,
Somethin’ that gives me pleasure, that makes my dopamine spike.
Then along comes this troll boy sayin’ it’s somethin’ he hates,
Doesn’t even go into detail -- man, you messed with the Fates.

Don’t chill my thrill, don’t piss my bliss,
Don’t yuck my yum, don’t stress my bless,
Don’t poop my boop, don’t stop my bop,
Don’t sad my glad, don’t stomp my bomp.
Don’t you come in, try to destroy things,
You can’t let people enjoy things,
Well, my friend, you get the trebuchet --
Dude, don’t harsh my squee.

I mention a movie that I love, an actor I respect,
A book, a game, a restaurant, this moron calls it dreck.
He doesn’t give a reason, he assumes we know he’s right,
Well, let me straighten you out, my friend, it’s time for a virtual flight.

Don’t chill my thrill, don’t piss my bliss,
Don’t yuck my yum, don’t stress my bless,
Don’t poop my boop, don’t stop my bop,
Don’t sad my glad, don’t stomp my bomp.
You’re nothin’ but a drive-by drudge
With a heart of ice and a brain of sludge,
For that you go right out the do’--
Dude, don’t harsh my squee.

Your little corner of the ‘Net can find itself defiled,
By smartass guys who don’t disguise they think they’re Oscar Wilde,
I’ve got more important things to do than argue with a troll
You think your shit is actually wit, and your pointless hate is droll.

So if you see a Facebook post with which you don’t agree,
Here’s a little safety tip goin’ out to you from me.
Your argument’s a sucking chest wound that you’d better staunch,
Or else I’ll crank the trebuchet and fuckin’ launch your haunch.

Don’t chill my thrill, don’t piss my bliss,
Don’t yuck my yum, don’t stress my bless,
Don’t poop my boop, don’t stop my bop,
Don’t sad my glad, don’t stomp my bomp.
Don’t ploy my joy, don’t flay my play,
Don’t troll my droll, don’t quibble my tribble,
With a single click, you proved you’re a dick --
Dude, don’t harsh my squee.

You’ll believe a man can fly, then land --
Dude, don’t harsh my squee.

I got things to do, none o’ them are you --
Dude, don’t harsh my squee.

credits

from Holy Crap, A New Album, track released June 6, 2018
Lyrics by Tom Smith and David Gerrold
from an idea by David Gerrold

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Tom Smith Ann Arbor

Weird Al with more books, JoCo with more jokes, Carlin with more Cthulhu. Since 1985, Tom Smith has been breaking hearts, minds, and laws of propriety and physics with his insane blend of sf/fantasy, Life With Computers, pop culture, politics, and puns. More than twenty albums later, he maintains the best is yet to come. ... more

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