Hear ye, Hear ye! The Carnival Organizers are calling for your assistance in picking the winner of the Brush Ballads Contest (#8)!!
Below are the top 5 entries (in no particular order) as narrowed down by your friendly moderator staff. While this contest was open only to members from Australia and New Zealand we are asking all members for their vote/input in choosing a winner.
Please vote for your favorite.
Voting will remain open for apx 24 hours.
Again, please vote for your favorite Brush Ballad only!
Below are the top 5 entries (in no particular order) as narrowed down by your friendly moderator staff. While this contest was open only to members from Australia and New Zealand we are asking all members for their vote/input in choosing a winner.Please vote for your favorite.Voting will remain open for apx 24 hours.Again, please vote for your favorite Brush Ballad only!The Chatroom Shaving Club
It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub,
That they formed an institution called the Chatroom Shaving Club.
There were long and cleanly shaven natives from the rugged mountain side,
There was no jaw around that the chat boys couldn't smooth with a Gillette slide;
But their style of shaving was rough and could cause a nasty shaving rash --
They had mighty little science, but a mighty lot of dash:
And they shaved with straight razors made of the finest Sheffield strong,
Though their blades were quite unpolished, and their hone wear marks long.
And they used to hone their razors on a rock out in the scrub;
They were demons, were the members of the Chatroom Shaving Club.
It was somewhere down the country, in a city's smoke and steam,
That a shaving club existed, called the "Forum Poster Team".
As a social institution 'twas a marvellous success,
For the members were distinguished by exclusiveness and dress.
They had natty little DEs that were nice, and smooth, and sleek,
Their cultivated owners used them in rotation throughout the week.
So they started up the country in pursuit of a fight over a shave,
For they meant to show the chat boys how they really ought to behave;
And they took their Dopp kits with them should their faces need a scrub
Ere they started operations on the Chatroom Shaving Club.
Now my readers can imagine how the hot water ebbed and flowed,
When the Chat boys got going it was time to clear the road;
And the shave off was so terrific that ere half the time was gone
A spectator's face was clean shaven -- just from merely looking on.
For they lathered one another till the plain was strewn with dead,
For it became so BBS that none could save his head.
And the Forum Poster Captain, when he tumbled over with a sigh
Was the last surviving player -- so surely shavepocalypse was nigh.
Then the Captain of the Chat Boys raised up slowly from the ground,
Though his nicks and razor burn were mortal, he fiercely gazed around;
There was no one to oppose him -- all the rest were in a trance,
So he scrambled for his razor for his last expiring chance,
For he meant to make an effort to get victory to his side;
So he went against the grain -- and missed it -- tumbled over and died.
* * * * * * * *
By the old Badger River, where the tallow fattens up,
There's a row of little gravestones that causes little holdup,
They bear a crude inscription saying, "Stranger, drop a tear,
For the Forum Poster players and the Chatroom boys lie here."
And on misty moonlit evenings, while the dingoes howl around,
You can see their shadows flitting down that phantom barber ground;
You can hear the loud collisions as the flying players meet,
The rattle of the razor doors, and stropping oh so fleet,
Till the terrified spectator rides like blazes to the pub --
He's been haunted by the spectres of the Chatroom Shaving Club.
A Father's Duty
You want a badger brush my son,
but the badgers, they run away.
You're too slow with ya rifle boy,
you'll have no brush today.
You have some lovely curly birch,
for the handle that you made.
But you need a knot to fix to it,
of badger, highest grade.
So come on boy, go get ya gun,
we'll see what we can find.
There's no badgers in them fields,
a boar hunt comes to mind.
Don't worry about what Fidgit says,
Not "devils, koala or 'roo".
Will make the perfect shaving brush,
but we'll use them in the stew.
So come on son, go grab ya gun,
Lets go out to play.
If my bloody son does not get his knot,
There will be hell to pay!
The Brush
There was movement at the forums, for the word had passed around
A new brush was available, it was the finest to be found.
With its exquisite carved handle and attractive carry case,
the touch of lather and bristles was like a lovers warm embrace.
Like a dingo that prevents its pups from becoming a foxes meal,
this brush will protect its user from the deadly caress of steel.
Truely this brush is the finest ever made,
and worthy of the hallmark the 'Badger & Blade'.
The ballad of the '09 Butterscotch
Play the gordon lightfoot song while you read it
The legend lives on of the brush I have found
of the forum I call Badger Bladey
the 09 it is said, is right on ahead
get permission from your dear lady
its got silvertip hair - is immediately rare
and will leave your paypall dead empty
with double strength glue the knot will be true
I need another brush, surely
so the mods will provide, and our eyes open wide
as the brush skips through customs, no problems
the administrative woes are bigger than most
than even the mods were believing
our butterscotch yearns were more than returned
when the mods commissioned a new one
we thought it was legit when we heard about 'it'
could it be the new brush we'd been dreaming?
but no brush was found when the carnival came round
though prizes were many and plenty
every member new, as the contributors did, too
t'was due to more moderator scheming
well, the 08 came late and we're afraid we have to wait
for the new one to go hit the postman
customs was blamed, and much was defamed
though no one their order would rescind
when the grelots came and the straight users checked
shaving fellows, that was a great razor
with a terrible din, the essential came in
resisting that guy was a facer
then joel chimed in, we had zowadas coming in
the damascus put our wallets in peril
they were a delight, and worked out of sight
but for the 09, were only a herald
does anyone know where the butterscotch goes
when waiting turns minutes to hours
after 08 delay, I used it every day
there is no brush that I prefer
better than that and I wont be surprised
bring your 5 oclock shadow to slaughter
and all remains are clean faces and usernames
and a group of grinning monsieurs
though bay rum burns, alum stings
its lather you always rely on
this new brush it seems, is right from my dreams
which soap will i use it first on
we're lucky you know, they thought to bestow
us with such a sweet little forum
if you miss this brush though, or choose to say no
or pick up a different brush instead
before very long youll start a crusade
to use the bst forum
no brush you will find, though you bump 29 times
youre certainly not getting my one
The legend lives on of the brush I have found
of the forum we call Badger Bladey
our new brush it is said, is right on ahead
get ready for it to come early
The Tale of Davey's Fight
Come gather round the fire, boys.
I'll tell you all a tale.
Of a creature so fearsome, boys,
he'd make a drover wail.
Now this creature, he is quite a sight,
with claws a teeth and spines.
He's sixteen feet high, they say,
and he lives just down those mines.
He makes a sound like a banshees howl
and it'll make your bladder weak.
It's the fearsome Platta-badger-roo
of Walla-Walla creek.
Now some say he has magic fur
but don't be in a rush.
'cause you better think twice, my mates,
before hunting down that brush.
Although the shave may be so close,
with barely just one pass,
to rub your chin your chin will feel as smooth
as a new born babies arse.
To hunt it down you'd be a fool.
To kill it no one can.
No one's made it back alive.
Well, maybe just one man...
It was in the winter of thirty two.
Davey was his name.
Shoulders two ax handles wide,
but the bugger was insane.
“I'll have that Platta-badger-roo”
said Davey one drunken night.
He stood and pulled his hat down low,
streamlined for a fight.
“I need a brush, if I'm to shave,
because I'm going to the dances.
I hear that there will be shiellas there
and a shave might improve my chances.”
So off he went, down to the mines,
without a backward glance.
His mates all thought of chasing him,
but instead just messed their pants.
Three hours passed, maybe four,
before Davey boy returned.
His arm was broke, his knuckles bled
and his backside had been burned.
He staggered up and fell right down,
almost landed in the fire.
His mates all rushed him a tall cold beer
because his health was looking dire.
“I almost won” Davey croaked,
taking a painful sip.
“I had him by the long white fur,
a fist full of silvertip!”
“We fought and fought for half the night
but the bugger never tired.
He wont ever be NO mans brush...”
And with that Davey expired.
So take my warning, all you boys,
from my story, true though weird.
It is the reason why we swaggies now
invariably have beards.
Authors note: This needs to be read with a broad Australian accent for full effect. Cheers
Ladies and Gentlemen this is the 5 best (in no particular order) as chosen by the moderator team. We ask that you keep in mind the spirit of this contest and vote for your favorite ballad on the merit of the ballad alone and not by its author (whose names we've deliberately omitted from voting).Good luck to all of the finalists!Let the voting begin!
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