Ghetto Dreidel Song

Parody of the actual Dreidel song.


Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it outta wood

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I played it in the ‘hood

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it outta glass

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I’m gonna kick yo……..

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it outta dough

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I wanna pimp a ho!

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it with my stash

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
Yo mama is white trash!

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I make it while I sing

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I got the madd bling bling!

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I don’t got yo present

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
From projects, represent!

 

Johnny Hotfoot Adventures: Staple My Ass

This entry is part 1 of 1 in the series Johnny Hotfoot Adventures

Hi. My name is Johnny Hotfoot, and I work for Satan.

I get paid minimum wage of $7 an hour. That’s the going rate in Hell right now. There’s probably not going to be any increase in it for a while, but hey, I get by.

Now you’re probably wondering who I am, how I died and what I do for a living to get paid $7 an hour in Hell.

Well, I was one of those guys that walked on hot coal, hence the name Johnny Hotfoot. I was a freak at one of those circuses, because I had very large callouses on my feet. I’ve walked on about 300 miles on hot burning coal. You can’t imagine how hard it is to find a decent pair of shoes.

I died because as I was walking on coal, a portal to Hell opened up and I fell in. It doesn’t happen usually, but that time I died. Now, I’m Satan’s “special guy.”  I go and do “special things” for him. Now you’re probably wondering “Why the Hell do I care?” But, you’ll care. Because I’m going to tell you about my zany adventures in a very very long running series on the best site on the internet, Squackle.com!

So, its morning.  The huge ball of fire’s dark and evil light shone through my windows.  I live in a one bedroom apartment in the ghetto of Hell.  Its not necessarily a bad place, but since about half of the people in Hell are rich, they live in a house that is as big as the Earth.

Hell is not a physical place.  It is a spiritual one, and in the spirit world, everything is different.  There is an endless amount of space and you can do whatever you want.  Except go to Heaven.  No one likes it up there.  You wear dresses and everything and everybody is white.  Its almost like the Puritan’s America, but with clouds and instead of dinky hats, they have halos floating around.

At about 10:00 AM Satan gave me a call on my Hell phone, the Hell version of the Cell Phone.  Not many people know this, but AT&T Wireless supplies us with our phone service.  They, dare I say, signed a deal with the devil.  Hahahaha I crack myself up.

Anywho, Satan said, “yo my bro dawg diggity, go on down to the licka store and buy me some Rolaids.  I got massive heart freeze here, my bro dawg diggity.  Peace out.”  So, I went to the liquor store.

As I was walking in, a group of demons were playing around with some staple guns they bought from the liquor store.  Lucky me, one of the staples strayed and hit me in the ass.  “Ah! Sonuva BITCH!” I yelled as I held my ass.  “Who the FUCK do you think you’re dealin with here, I’m going to rape you all you fucking cocksucking demon stupid ass WHORES!” So I took out my long John and wrapped them up with it.  They couldn’t get away now.

“Oh fuck! You really did it this time Fred!  You’re gonna get us raped and beaten!” One of the demon’s yelled.

 

And so I did.

 

Then, after I finished up, I got some Rolaids for Satan, and gave them to him.  He thanked me.

 

Don’t Do Drugs

 

The End.

 

Dollars and Sense

Once upon a time there was a rich guy named Ron Hubbles, III. Everybody just called him Muffins, though. His gangster friends called him Muvvenz. So, one day Muffins was in his vault admiring how much money he had. He had so much money, he could buy anything he wanted. He could’ve bought a country! But, instead he bought a ghetto in the middle of a city near Los Angeles.

Muffins, owning the ghetto, could do anything he wanted. He changed the name of the ghetto to Ronhub. He also changed all the names of the streets to a varied form of his name, Ron Hubbles, III. There were streets like Ronald, Ronald 2, The Hub, Ubbles, Hubbles III, etc. Yes, life was grand in the ghetto. All the windows that had been broken were boarded up, and it was a safe place because everyone had 8 locks on their doors. But one day, a good four days after it was bought, the ghetto Ronhub became a killing field. Gangsters from all over LA came into Ronhub, and shot everyone they could, because Muffins was sleeping with all their favorite hoes that lived in the area.

Everyone died. There were brains and pantless asses strewn across the streets. Some were even on the roofs of houses. Muffins sold the ghetto the next day, and no one moved into the area again. All the houses were used as crack houses for a year until a meth lab exploded and caused a chain reaction that blew up all the other drug labs in the ghetto.

The moral of the story:
You can’t buy love.

The End.