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Sung to Whatever – to the tune of “Proud Mary”

Played a good game in the end zone
Diving for the disc with a mouthful of dirt
But I never caught one hard hucked long bomb
Running with my arms tucked up in my shirt
Big disc keeps on flying
Whatever keeps on smiling
Whatever, Whatever, Whatever at Trafalgar
Shot off our guns at Trafalgar
Spent my load getting you on your back
But I’d never trade my disccraft frisbee
For some skaters hackey sack
Big dicks keep on flapping
Buddha Call keeps on clapping
Whatever, Whatever, Whatever at Trafalgar

They’re frequently guys
But sometimes they’re girls
They gave us their bras
And showed us their curls
They bring out their breats
And we like what we see
They may have big cocks
But they’ll always be women to me
Yeah and they always scream out…
When they’re taking it deep
Into the end zone
They’re not really skipping
With breats to their belly
Their pistols were puny
Their G-strings were smelly
They bring out their breasts
And we like what we see
They may have big cocks
But they’ll always be women to me

Sung to Use the Force Luck – mostly to the tune of “Do Run Run Run”

First six beats of the Imperial March, slowly
Met ‘em on a Thursday and my feet stood still
Would you run-run-run
Would you run-run
We shot them with our pistols and they would not yield
We could not run-run
We could not run
(girls) YEAH you really made us wet
(guys) YEAH with your water jet
(all) YEAH come stroke our pet
Would you cum-cum-cum
Would you cum-bum
I kissed my sister and I’ll never tell
It’s real fun-fun-fun
It’s real fun-fun
My name is Luke and I’m going to hell
First six beats of the Imperial March, slowly

Sung to Uri Gellars – to the tune of “Girls just wanna have fun”

The disc flies in the middle of the air
My team yells “run!” but no one gets there
Oh Uri Gellars you’re the fortunate ones
Cause Buddha Call wants to get gunned
(Chorus)
Yeah thats all we really want…
To get gunned…
When the Haka is finally done
Oh Gellars, just wanna have fun
Yeah Gellars, just wanna have fun
Oh bend the spoon, the one in my ass
My prostate cries out for a little more brass
Oh Buddha Call, we are the desperate ones
Oh spooners, we just want to come
(Chorus)
That’s all we really want…
To come…
When the skipping point is shunned
Oh Gellars just want to have fun.

It threatened to rain tonight, but the sun came out. Not to say that we didn’t get wet anyway, as our fearless leader decided that
both teams should be armed with squirt guns. That definitely made for a couple of surreal points.
Sung to Horror Flick – to the tune of “Imagine”

Imagine there’s no Horror,
It’s easy if you try
No guns with water
Everybody dry
Imagine all the players
Running in harmony…Oooh oooh ooh…
Imagine we’re all naked
And you’re naked too
What team are you on?
I haven’t got a clue
Imagine all the players
Playing with my disc…Oooh oooh oooh…
Imagine playing man-on,
It’s harder than it sounds
Forget about the frisbee
We’ve got dicks and mounds
Imagine all the players
Horrifying me…Ooooh oooh oooh….
(Solo from Haka John) You may say Im a dreamer,
but I’m not the only one,
I hope some day you’ll join us,
(All) Penis penis penis penis penis penis!!!!!!!

You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em
Know when to throw ‘em
Know when to take it long
And when to lay it out
You never count on your long bombs
When you’re playing with the Keystoners
‘Cause man those gals can chase it down
While the guys tag along
Buddhas and the Stoners
Going hard in the endzone
There’s lots of time for stroking
When we all get home

Just a single-header tonight (I’m posting this a couple of weeks late, so I don’t remember too many details). I remember the song
though (that’s what pad and paper are for).
Sung to Uri Gellars – to the tune of Eric Claptons’ “Leila”

The sky was dark and the clouds were gray,
Stayed to play ulty anyway
At WINONA…Win-non-non-non-non-a…
Win-non-non-non-non-aaa…Winona
I came to the field to try my luck
Uri looked me in the eye and asked me to huck
At WINONA…Win-non-non-non-non-a…
Win-non-non-non-non-aaa…Winona
We pulled out the zone and played five foot cup
I don’t mind the bottom if you’re on top
At WINONA…Win-non-non-non-non-a…
Win-non-non-non-non-aaa…Winona
We held their hand and we skipped all night
Just the way I like it all sweaty and tight
At WINONA…Win-non-non-non-non-a…
Win-non-non-non-non-aaa…Winona

Hey, beer makes everything go better doncha know? Playing some good-spirited ulty on one of the longest days of the year, under
a gorgeous sun, BBQ on field side… Only downing our spirit keg of
Sun God Wheat Ale could make it better…
I swear, I live for evenings like this.
Anyway, looks like the beer got those creative juices flowing, we got two good ones this week.
Sung to Rodents of Unusual Size – a medley

– Buddha Call HAKA –
– transition to tune of “Barbie Girl”–
(men) Lets go Buddha, suck me good-a
Lets go Buddha, suck me good-a
(ladies) I’m a Buddha Girl, in a Rodent world
Hucking plastic, to Mr Fantastic
(ladies) Where Rodents can be found, we can cup around
You are hucking long, we are sucking schlong
(men) Lets go Buddha, suck me good-a
Lets go Buddha, suck me good-a
– transition to tune of “Auld Lang Syne”–
More beer more beer more beer, more beer
More beer, more beer, more beer
More beer more beer more beer, more beer
More beer, more beer, more beer

(you might have to use your imagination on the last one…)
Sung to Horror Flick – to the tune of “Addams Family”

Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (click click)
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (click click)
They’re hucky and they’re flicky
Their hands are rather sticky
Let’s give them all a hickey
Upon their little rumps
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (Horror Flick)
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (Horror Flick)
They’re flick and they’re hucky
Their ultimate is lucky
Let’s give them all a fucky
A good old-fashioned hump
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (grunt grunt)
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (grunt grunt)
Eva loves the penis
All we hear is penis
Every point its penis
Penis, penis, penis
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (beaver beaver)
Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh (beaver beaver)
The beer is freely flowing
Our faces are all glowing
I’m on my knees and blowing
Buddha loves the flick

No songs of note last night, we managed to get out a coupla lines of weak Bon Jovi. Ah, man, Haka John’s gonna be pissed.
In other news, though, did anybody notice the VUL frontpage? And I quote:

Nightly Spirit Winners for the first trimester, each of whom receives a proud pony of fine R&B handcrafted ale, are:
Monday – Slippery When Wet
Tuesday – Coed Tickle Fight
Wednesday – Büüz
Thursday – Buddha Call & Rodents of Unusual Size (tied)

Hey, are we dreaming about C-Fest yet??? I know I am, little vodka jello dreams. Maybe I could find some right now…
Sung to Fox Force Seven (who I thank for showing me the best alternative to RockPaperScissors I’ve seen) – to the tune of “Wake me up before you go”

Wake us up before you throw throw
Cause our defense is only so so
Wake us up before you throw throw
I don’t want to miss you when you jump that high.
Pick me up, we’ll have a ball ball
You don’t want to miss our sexy stall stall
Pick me up, we’ll have a ball ball
You should see me when I work that pole
DO THE SEXY STALL…(do do do)
DO THE SEXY STALL…(do do do)
We hope you like our sexy cheer cheer
We’re only here here for the beer beer
We hope you like our sexy cheer cheer
Join us laying out tonight.

Lookit me! I can still code while under the influence of the Buddha!!!
Thanks to Kim, the Buddha was particularly strong today. And I feel that it was clearly an asset for us in winning both of our games!!
With great spirit too, the skipping and dinosaur points were _classic_, and I thought we did well in avoiding all dangerous plays
but still playing hard.
Sung to Uri Gellars – to the tune of “Mellow Yellow” (or whatever it is)

I’m just mad about huckin’
And huckin’s just the thing for me.
I like to take it in the end zone
Would you like to give it to me?
We call them Uri Gellars
(quite nice flick)
We call them Uri Gellars
(quite nice flick)
I’m just mad about tight cups
But loose cups make me drool
Dan laid out for the frisbee
And Rick played pocket pool
We call them Uri Gellars
(quite nice flick)
We call them Uri Gellars
(we have two Ricks)

Sung to Blat! – to the tune of “Doe, a deer” – a blatant recycle of last years song.

Doh, the sound, when I drop the disc
Ray, the guy that tracks me down
Me, a name, I call my self
Fa, a long way to the bar
So, I’d like to have a beer
Beer, beer beer beer beer beer beer
Tea, no thanks I’ll have a beer
Which brings us back to Blat!
Doh ray me fa so la tea Blat!

(PS for comparison, last year we went with:

Sung to Blat!, to the tune of ‘Doe, a deer’ (whatever that song title is):

Doh, the sound, when I drop the disc
Ray, the sun that blinds our eyes
Me, a player, my favorite player
Fa, a long way from the zone
So, you’re playing on our team
La, la la la la la la
Tea, no thanks I’ll have a beer
Which brings us back to Blat!
Doh ray me fa so la tea Blat!