Friday Word Fun ~ Spoonerisms ~ ha! ha! ha!…

      PIGS AND WOLF2

In the 1930s and 1940s, F. Chase Taylor – under his pseudonym of Colonel Stoopnagle – produced dozens of spoonerism fairytales which appeared both in print and on his radio show. The original ones were printed in the Saturday Evening Post and he eventually published a collection of the stories in 1946 – a book which is now sadly out of print and much sought after.

Spoonerisms are words or phrases in which letters or syllables get swapped. This often happens accidentally in slips of the tongue (or tips of the slung as Spoonerisms are often affectionately called!)

The Reverend William Archibald Spooner was a highly-regarded scholar and warden of New College at England’s great Oxford University. Believe it or not, it was a mere slip of the tongue that started this dignified British clergyman on the road to eternal renown. 

WATER DROPLET HAPPY ICON GIMPCROPPED

When I was growing up one of my favorite spoonerisms was: “Mardon me, padam, but you’re occupewing the wrong pie. Let me sew you to another sheet.”  (Pardon me, madam, but you’re occupying the wrong pew.  Let me show you to another seat.)

I know it will be slow going for some of you making sense of this story, but the more you read it, the easier and funnier it becomes!!

 The Pea Little Thrigs, by Mark Fitzsimmons

LEAVING HOMEOnce there was a mig bomma sow who lived with her pee little thriglets on a big fog harm. They lived a line fife slopping with gorge and wallowing in the pud muddle and all, until one night when the sig pow took the pee little thrigs aside for a tearious salk. “Oink,” she wide, creeping. “Oink, oink oink!” (Or, to verbaphrase her porridge, “Boys, you header bed for the yorest fonder before harmer Fank bakes macon!”)

So a few dours before haybreak, the pee little thrigs set out to fake their mortune in the feep dorest.

HOUSES3Now the lirst fiddle pig’s name was Joe. Poe jig said, “I’m gonna build me a haw strouse,” and he began strickin’ up paw.

HOUSES2The second piddle lig’s name was Luke, and Puke lig said, “I’m gonna build me a hick stouse,” and he began stickin’ up pigs.

HOUSES1Now the lird piddle thig’s name was Dave. He was a mite barter than his smothers, earning him the name pigtickle prack. Pave dig said, “I’m gonna build me a hone and storter mouse,” and he began erecting clocks.

Now I won’t same to clay that streaving waw or sighing ticks is easy ’cause it tain’t rue, but it’s a sot limpler than stortaring moans, and by the time Pave dig had the fox filed for his pyreplace, the other poo tigs were bun dildin’ and tootin’ for ruffles. “Look at pigtickle prack,” the pool crigs laughed, “pettin’ like a swig over his stig bones.” But pigtickle prack had seen tolf wacks that day, and he wept kurking.

Eventually the hone stouse was done, and all bree throthers had dwellable livings. Pave dig never did tell the other poo tigs about the tolf wracks, so Poe jig was shighty mocked to wake up to the sounds of a walivatin’ soof.

“Piddle lig, piddle lig, ket me lum in!”

“Not by the chuzz on my finny fin fin!”

“Then I’ll larf and I’ll barf and I’ll hoe your blouse down!”

STRAW HOUSESo the wolf larfed and he barfed and he hew the blouse down, whereupon Poe jig run off to Puke lig’s house and broke his wother. That wungry holf was right behind. “Piddle ligs, piddle ligs, I wants two pat figs, I does!”

“Not by the muzz on my fuzzly fuzzle fuzz!” said Puke lig.

“Then I’ll larf and I’ll barf and I’ll hoe your blouse down!”

STICK HOUSESo the wolf larfed and he barfed and he hew the blouse down. Loe and Juke freely reeked and run off to the hock rouse and dolted the bore. The wungry holf got there quite rick, but not nasty fuff.

“Piddle ligs, piddle ligs, undolt the bore!”

“Not by the mollicles on my fandible!” said Pave dig (who never missed a chance to use a wig bird).

“Then I’ll larf and I’ll barf and I’ll hoe your blouse down!”

Pave dig just smiled and said, “Woe blay!”

BRICK HOUSE CROPPEDSo the wolf larfed and he barfed and he larfed and he barfed, till he was fue in the blace, with no effectable notice on the stock ructure. The wig bad bolf sat down to cogitate on this uneventful prediction, when he noticed the choking smimney.

WOLF ON ROOFNot bein’ a very wart smolf,
he chimed the climney and
dropped tail first into a boiling stot of poo.

FIREThat wolf earned his bass and just about everything else that day, since Pave dig clammed the slover on the poo stot, leaving the other poo tigs mealing in squirthful reverie. Pave dig turned to his overweight brothers and said, “Molf wheat is beaner than leef, and it would bepig you hooves to conduce your resumption of faturated sats.” The very next day they started a diet of vegetabically grown organelles, and they began electing crocks for two new hock roams for Poe jig and Puke lig.

This storal has two morys: First, of course, induce your retake of atty facets. Secondly, never ever dime clown chokin’ smimneys.

WATER DROPLET HAPPY ICON GIMPCROPPED

I yope hou fad hun thith wis and now it’s talmost ime to head out for the eekwend. (I hope you had fun with this and now it’s almost time to head out for the weekend.)  Sorry, but just couldn’t resist thrapping wis up without my attempt at spoonerisming! (Gee, did I just coin a new word here???)

 Have a great one and I hope you visit with us again next week.

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One response to “Friday Word Fun ~ Spoonerisms ~ ha! ha! ha!…

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