You'll Never Walk Alone (or take a cab, either)

I've been doing some Christmas-type stuff, feeding the shark-infested frenzy that is the holiday season, but I thought I would post, just so people will know I'm not dead. It's very cold here (26) for December. Usually this is January or February weather, but no, Mother Nature has decided to moon the country just a little more in 2005.

My parents are coming to visit for the holidays, and usually we go into the city and see the tree at Rockefeller Center, and some of the store window displays, but alas, the black-hearted Transit Workers Union has gone on strike. As only one of eight million inconvenienced at a time when inconvenience is not a good thing, I've created an ode to Mr. Touissant, head of the striking workers, and general, all around bad man.

You're a mean one, Mr. Touissant,
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a subway cleaner, as charming as a booth-worker, Mr. Touissant.

You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel adorning the floor of the East 149th Street Station.

You're a monster, Mr. Touissant,
Your heart's an empty hole,
Your brain is full of rats,
You've got empty MetroCard's in your soul,
Mr. Touissant!

I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine and half-foot pole.

You're a vile one, Mr. Touissant,
You've got termites in your tracks
You have all the tender sweetness,
Of a drunken bus driver while demanding exact change.

Given the choice between the two of you, I'd take the drunken bus driver.

You're a foul one, Mr. Touissant,
You're a nasty, wasty wonk.
Your heart is full of unwashed seats,
Your soul is funk of gonk.
Mr. Touissant!