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The Byte household is under the weather and Nibbles was tired of my usual chorus of Wee Willie Winkie who ran all around town dressed in his nightgown. A quick memory scan fetched this absurd rhyme from back in the day (the way I remember it):
Rub a dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And how do you think they got there?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,
They all jumped out of a rotten potato,
‘Twas enough to make a man stare.

Say wha…? I have nothing against homoerotic fantasies. Threesomes? Well, I’m a monogamist prude and all, but it’s all good – as long as it’s not in a fuckin’ nursery rhyme book (surely the ol’ nuns weren’t that naive).

I know there was a thread on strange rhymes a while ago, but not sure if this made the cut. Anyways. What exactly were those 3 men upto in that tub? Rubbing a dub-dub of course. Not sure about the rotten potato reference (vodka hangover?) And I refuse to believe the professions were randomly selected for the suffix (butcher –> meat, baker –> cooks in oven, candlestick maker –> moulds phallic objects).

So it’s back to Mary and that silly lil’ lamb of hers. Gah!

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