Fun:Andrew Schlafly/bustarhyme

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Andrew Schlafly, Fresh Prince of Conservapedia[edit]

Is this what the admins
of Conservapedia live like?
Hmmm, this might be all right
Come by my crib
And get some Aschlafly-Doggin'
Tight as old school!

(Bring your own lotion, beotch)

Waxin' it old school, oh yeah!

Now this is a story all about how
The tubes got flipped turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
I'll tell you how started Conservapedia, bane of liberals everywhere.

In West Illinois, born and raised
At my homeschool was where I spent most of my days
Indoctrinatin', proselytisin', evangelisin' all cool
And generally actin a bit of a tool
When a couple of liberals they were up to no good
Started opposin' prayer in my neighborhood
When my brother went gay, my mom said don't let him lead ya
"You're movin' out with ED and TK to start Conservapedia!"

I whistled for some help and when it came near
It was a damn huge cruiser with Karajou sittin there
I knew the ship was trustworthy, he wouldn't deceive ya
So I yelled out, "Yo Kara welcome home to Conservapedia!"

I'd picked all my admins by about 7 or 8
And I yelled to Wikipedi 'yo holmes smell ya later'
Looked at my kingdom, you know I'll never leave ya
I'll sit on my throne, the king of Conservapedia.


In the year of His Lord
two thousand and six
Andy chose wikis
over other men's dicks
He furiously typed
and groom-ed his flock
one hand on the keyboard
the other, his cock Glock
And as he descended
into madness and fear
his delusions of grandeur
kept his enemies near
For enemies near
are enemies known
though socks are a bother
he feels not alone
but alone he is
in his tin-foil hat world
his libido tied down
his freak flag still furled.
till the end of his days
he'll remain wound up tight
his blog long forgotten
obscurity his plight.

The Haly Sysop's Prayer (Scots-English Dictionary)

O ye that in CP dis dwall,
That, as it pleases best yersel,
Maks ane a Sysop an sends ten tae hell
Aw for Thy glory,
An no for onie guid or ill
They've duin afore ye!

A bliss an ruise yer matchless micht,
Whan thoosands ye shut oot at nicht,
That A am here afore yer sicht,
For gifts an grace
A get tae write an lat licht
Tae aw this place.

What wis A, or ma generation,
That A shoud get sic exaltation?
A, that deserved maist juist damnation
For brakken laws
Sax thoosand year ere ma creation,
Throu Aidam's cause!

Whan frae Wikipedia A fell,
Ye micht hae plunged me deep in hell
Tae gnash my goums, an weep, an wail
Acause o blocks,
Whaur damned leeberals roars an yells,
Chyned tae their socks.

Yet A am here, a waled sample,
Tae shaw yer grace is great an ample:
A'm here a pillar o yer temple,
Strang as a rock,
A guide, a buckler, an example
Tae aw yer flock!

But yet O Laird confess I maun:
At times A'm fashed wi mense fou grawn;
An whiles, an aw, it gets me gaun,
Vile leeb'ral thochts gets in;
But ye mynd we are but brawn,
Defiled wi sin.

O Laird! yestreen, Ye ken, bi fegs! --
Yer pardon A sincerely begs --
A fund an edit tae be made
Tae ma dishonour!
An a finger A'll lift ne'er
Tae dae a keybuird sair.

Asides, A faurer maun avou --
Wrate Leeb'ral airticles, three times, A trew --
But, Laird, that Friday A wis fou,
Whan A did dite anew,
Or ense, Ye ken, yer servand true
Wad niver duin't athoot the brew.

Aiblins ye'll lat this fleshly thorn
Buffet yer servand e'en an morn,
Lest he ower prood an heich shoud turn
That he's sae giftit:
If sae, yer haund maun e'en be borne
Tae see he's blockit.

Laird, bliss yer chuisen in this place,
For here ye hae a chuisen race!
But Laird confoond their stubborn face
An blast their name,
That brings yer sysops tae disgrace
An open shame!

Laird, mynd Ice Wedge's deserts:
He drinks, an sweirs, an plays at cairts,
Yet haes sae monie takkin airts
Wi great an smaw,
Frae God's ain Priest the fowk's herts
He stowes awa.

An whan we chastent him therefore,
Ye ken hou he bred sic a splore,
An set CP in sic a roar
O lauchin at us:
Curse ye his basket an his store,
O antrin proxies!

Laird, hear ma earnest cry an prayer
Again that Presbyt'ry o het air!
Thon Rationalwiki, Laird, mak it bare
Upo their heids!
Laird, veesit them, an dinna spare,
For their misdeeds!

O Laird, ma God! that glib-tongued taiken,
Ma vera hert an flesh is quakin
Tae think hou we stuid sweitin, shakin,
An pished wi dreid,
While he, wi socks a-snakin,
Held up his heid.

Laird, in yer day o vengeance try him!
Laird, veesit him that did employ him!
An passna in yer mercy by them,
Nor hear their prayer,
But for yer sysops' sake destroy them,
An dinna spare!

But, Laird, mynd auld me an mine
Wi mercies temporal an divine,
That A for grace an gear micht shine
Excelled by nane;
An aw the glory shall be yer ain --
Amen, Amen!


There once was a pervert named Schlafly
Who treated his gerbil most roughly
It chewed through the string
He had tied to his thing
And now he sings soprano less gruffly

ħumanUser talk:Human 19:50, 22 February 2009 (EST)

The Schlafly's Prayer[edit]

Our Schlafly, which art insane.
Valid be thy Username.
Thy admins come,
Thy will be done, in mainspace as it is in talk pages.
Give us this day our infinite block,
And forgive us our talk talk talk, as we forgive those who violate 90/10.
And lead us not into liberal deceit,
But deliver us from experts.
For thine is the Conservapedia, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.