Turn it up

mean bone_Fotor



“She Hasn’t Got a Mean Bone”

written and performed

by George J. Raymond

copyright © 2023


She goes to church on Sunday

She goes to work on Monday

She does the very best she can


She loves her mother

She loves her father

Takes good care of her man


She hasn’t got a mean bone


If she ever got in trouble

it would surely pop her bubble


And it’s gonna break my heart

to watch her fall apart


Lies — she don’t tell ’em

Alibis — she don’t use ’em

She’s always true to herself


She sees the good in you

Ignores the bad in you

She gives everybody an even chance


She hasn’t got a mean bone.


Happy 81st Birthday, Dad!

The voice

Just like the

famous Welsh singer

Tom Jones,


My dad fancied

himself to be

“the hardest working man in show-business”


Even though,

he was not in



But we played along, anyway


Like, when dad

would grill burgers

in the backyard


we’d all gather

’round nearby,

on the patio


and throw panties at him.

The time-line

While going through some old boxes, looking for my kazoo, I found

the written record, taken by me, of an unfortunate

incident at my first rented flat in San Francisco in 1985


6 a.m.

House-mate awakens

feeling violently ill.


6:15 a.m.

Woken by his cries,

I immediately

fall back to sleep.


6:30 a.m.

Woken, again, by

his cries, I rush

to the kitchen,

and fix myself

a heaping burlap

satchel of waffles.


06:45 a.m.

I call the doctor.


07:30 a.m.

Doctor arrives,

rushes to

the kitchen,


fixes himself a

heaping burlap

satchel of waffles.


08:30 a.m.

Doctor goes to House-mate’s room.

Sends in a canary.


11:59 a.m.

Canary returns

with a renewed

sense of pride,

an olive branch,

and a

heaping burlap

satchel of waffles.


12:01 p.m.

Doctor administers medicine


12:02 p.m.

House-mate feels better


12:03 p.m.

House-mate dies.


12:30 p.m.

Doctor composes the Magic Flute


12:45 p.m.

Austrian Deluxe singer Falco records ‘Rock Me Amadeus’.


1:00 p.m.

George runs out of ideas for time-line bit.


1:03 p.m

George begins working on next bit.






Aufs & oafs

I have always

suspected that

my sister was

a changeling,


Each time our

mother would

go out

to collect wood,


my infant sister

would suddenly,

stand up,


dance about,


play the bag pipes,

drink boiled oil,

and, place

empty walnut


around the fire.


When our mother

would return,

she’d ask,

“Who drank the boiled oil?”


Who do you think?!

Come on, mom, wise up!