Prepare to be enlightened…

There’s a hidden cult. A secret society hell-bent on ruining the minds of our young children. We know them as…nursery’s *cue scary noises*. No seriously, these people are destroying our children, (I say ‘our’, there’s no evidence proving that baby is mine. So what if it looks like me? I don’t care. Take me to court, you ain’t getting no money b*tch. And don’t be callin’ ma mama’s house no mo’…anywhoo). How are they doing this, I hear you ask? We’ll I’ll tell you. Nursery Rhymes…little songs riddled with satanic references. With their simple lyrics…and catchy tunes. I’m sure you want proof. Allow me to deliver…

Humpty Dumpty – Seemingly innocent. He’s just an egg after all. An egg that can conveniently climb walls, and divert an entire kingdom’s security services in an instance. “All the kings horses and all the kings men”. ALL OF THEM? Everyone knew that little fat-face was up to no good…

If your happy and you know it… - …Clap your hands. Or maybe, take another shot of heroin. Nothing should be that joyful. Not even a song.

Five fat jellyfish – Now I’ve never actually heard this song, but any tune encouraging overindulgence is obviously harmful. The lyrics? “Five fat jellyfish…Sat on a rock…And one fell off…Ahhhhh” One fell off? How ‘bout, what the F*CK WAS A JELLYFISH DOING SITTING ON A ROCK? HUH?! “…Then four fat jellyfish, three fat jellyfish, two fat jellyfish, one fat jellyfish, No fat jellyfish, No fat jellyfish, No fat jellyfish”. That’s right kids, everything dies. Even jelly fish…even YOU.

Baa, Baa Black Sheep – Wow. Black sheep and a master. Way to creep in racism early guys...

My hands are all sticky – I sh*t you not. That is an actual rhyme.

Five little monkeys – I’ll sum it up. They’re sitting in a tree, teasing a crocodile. Needless to say, they get eaten. Where’s the moral? “Kids, if you ever happen to be swinging in a tree...please don’t tease a crocodile.”…real helpful.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary – “How does your garden grow”? FERTILISER. Not “Silver bells and cockle shells”, Gees…

Polly put the kettle on – “Susy took it off”. Looks like Susy’s just trying to f*ck with you guys. Don’t have it…

Miss Polly Had a Dolly - …Who was sick, sick, sick so she phoned for the doctor, to come quick, the doctor came…looked at dolly, and he shook his head. He said “Miss Polly, Put her straight to bed”, He wrote on a paper, for a pill, I’ll be back in the morning, if she’s still ill”. Ok, first off, I wana see some identification from this “doctor”. And what kinda magic pill cures someone over night? And ANOTHER thing, what the hell happened to Polly? If a teacher read that to me, and then was all “lets go for lunch”, I’d be all “hold up there sweetcakes. What the hell happened to Polly?” “Umm..it doesn’t say…” “You what? The f*ck you mean ‘it doesn’t say’? b*tch you crazy? F*cking gimme the book…well f*ck me…Polly musta died. We all told her to use protection…” At least…that’s what I’d hope I’d say…

Rain, Rain, Go away – Come again another day, rain, rain go to Spain, never show your face again. Can you fathom the geographical destruction no rain would cause? It wouldn’t be pretty.

Five little ducks - …went swimming one day. Basically a couple of them go missing, and come back a few days later sh*t-faced. And what does mummy duck do? Just lets them waltz home late, not a care in the world. I don’t know how these ducks become parents *shakes head*

Isn’t it funny – That the bear likes honey. Well no…not really. “Buzz, buzz, buzz, I wonder why he does, go to sleep Mr. Bear. Zz.Zz.Zz. Wake up Mr. Bear. Someone’s stolen your honey pot”. Wtf…I can’t make head’s or tails of that. Dumb rhyme.

I love little pussy – Oh you do, do you?…her coat is so warm, and if I don’t hurt her, she’ll do me no harm. So I’ll not pull her tail, not driver her away, but pussy and I very gently will play. I’m not even gonna comment.

Ride a cock-horse – Jesus. I’m speechless. I just……damn.

Wee Willie Winkie – As if the name wasn’t bad enough. It gets worse. Wee Willie Winkie running through town, upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown, rapping at the window, and crying through the lock, are all the children in their beds, it’s past eight o’clock. Now, I’m an 18 year old boy, and that nursery rhyme scared the sh*t out of me. Sounds like Wee Willie needs to be in some kind of institution. The perv.

For the love of god. Teach our kids some S.Club 7 for Christ’s sake. No more of this madness.

Peace.