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Sorry to interject here, but I just want to say that on reflection, Them Apples is a fucking shit name. We've now split up due to nominal differences. It's bitter.

I shall not rhyme.

High school band was named The Plaid Mothers. Unfortunate, and crap, but it was high school.

Was in the fine band Makita Soma for a brief while. I like that name.

Was a member of two bands (side-projects of each other) called Popular Mechanics and Scientific American. I prefer the latter.

I am in a band called Elvin, which is the name of the front-man's father. Which is endearing, but everyone who hears the name thinks it has something to do with Lord of the Rings.

The Flemish Cap: the greatest psychedelic band of all time, full of sludge and heat -- it's all in my head, as I've yet to actually form this band or record or compose or perform anything. But I shall, one day, and it will kick ass.

Oh yeah, I was in the worst band of all time (sort of a Ween / Frogs kind of thing) called The Meatles, and our first records was called "Beat the Meatles". Which is not crap at all.

OK! On with the rhyming!

How can we be rhymin' now the Meatles is climbin'
to the cranium forefront where da melons be farmin'
Firing all cylinders, bustin out the hymen
virgins be blowin up, panties be slidin'
down prepubescent beanpole pins like firemen
little devils ringin' Hells Bells be chimin'
Flying round the sun we got four fuckin' horsemen
takin' care o'doom like funky ass foremen
cleanin' up the town like Johnny Cash lawmen
whips cracking like cream flowin' from da Rachel Hornin'
Followin' the call from the mighty one fallin'
Icepacked like Judas in the fires of Walter Mallin'
Lickedy split and raggedy assed
Speakin' in tongues now too pretty damn fast
we gots ta roll
ya sold ya soul
an' now ya can't do betta
than to get down on your knees
an' squeeze a please out to Loretta

Angus Jung wrote:Oh, those varicose veins make Col. Sanders insanes

Yo, Brett Eugene!

I didn't say enough 'bout your mom and the Colonel
Their action's too hot for Marquis de Sade's journal

She smells his ass coming, she gets down and begs
And he lays into her like some old chicken legs

Original reci-pees, that old coot "aims" to please
Yo mama, she laps it like sap from the trees

Then he does her "extra crispy" when he's knocking her boot
Ends up with "Santorum" on his clean white suit

Freakin' so hard, his string tie's all askew
Makin' gravy for the biscuits with his rancid man goo
(Mrs. Ralph-crabs in that beard of his, too)

ewwwww.

just...gross.

so much beautiful gross.

I wish I had the hip hop in me,
but I can't make a rhyme like Steve or Itchy,
And Angus, god damn, that shit is rough.
Topping that shit would be hella tough.

Tom wrote:I wish I had the hip hop in me,

Don't worry, guy!

I'll start you off:

My name is Tom and I'm here to say,

Okay! Run with it!

steve wrote:Y'all baggin on Brett's mom
but she loves her son
and he'll come cryin' to her
to get wrapped by her arm
when them vertebrae slip
they don't have to slip far
'fore it's too goddamn painful
to even sit in the car
so they walk, no they hobble
down the goddamn sidewalk
a mile and a quarter to
see some goddamn doc
"Momma, I'm dyin.' I can't barely stand."
"Don't worry, son. Here, take hold of my hand."
So Brett's momma' got heart
for her crippled young son
and I won't hear no bullshit
fuck-fantasy from anyone.

A concerned mama mia--what a fine thing to be!
Like the time Steve laid down his Kawasaki.
He fall down go boom; he injure his knee.
Then he cry like bambino till his pants he did pee.
Mama hear Stev-a-rino and run breathlessly
And kiss-um his boo-boo till a smile she did see.
Then she bundle him up, take to 'mergency
Where they patch him all up like Humpty Dumpty.
Mama laid down the law immediately:
"No more motorcyclistas in mi family!"
When she she saw Steve was sad, like any good guinea,
She made him some meatballs and-a spaghetti.

Itchy Mcgoo,
Angus Jung and Brett Eu
All your ryhmes are weak-assed
And Albini's are too

You think your raps are nasty
But they're really very spazzy

I've had all your mom's, they love my schlong
and that goes for Kerble, Van Pelt and Chapter Two

Good Rhymes, cranius
Your mom is fat and slutty