Palindrome

The date will be a palindrome for the next 8 days I believe.

"Palindrome, Palindrome, he's our man..." and waits to see if anyone else gets it.

Go hang a salami I'm a lasagna hog.

Palindrome, Palindrome, where do you roam?

I have a feeling this thread will live beyond it's years. 1-20-21 to be exact. lol

I don't get any of these jokes. 😕

Ha.  That one's fairly obscure.

On the old "Cheers" tv show, there's an episode where Coach is getting ready to take a some kind of geography test, and he makes up songs to help him remember things.  Such as:

Albania, Albania
You border on the Adriatic
Your main exports
Are milk and cheese...

Sung to the tune of "How Dry I Am."  I don't think it's particularly remembered, but I got a kick out of it so it stuck with me.

The meter and vowels of "Palindrome, Palindrome" cued an aural memory of Coach's "Albania, Albania."  That's the full extent of the joke.

Oh, me, neither.  I subscribe to that saying about remaining silent and being thought a fool rather than speaking and removing all doubt, so I was just waiting quietly for somebody to come along and explain them.  Here's my sole contribution:

A man, a plan, a canal, Panama.

I know, I know, it's not a palindrome with the punctuation in, but I can't bear to leave it out.

I don't remember that part of the song, I guess.  Just, "A man callllled . . .  Paaaaladinnnnn."

Here's another one by Demetri Martin. I'm in awe at how his mind works. Here's what it's about (it's a little riské)...



Sexes. Eh, the sexes.
Never even. Still, it’s DNA.
Never awed, I spot a boob.
O, wow! O, now two. Wow! OK.
A still animal sits afoot: one vamp, a lap maven.
O, timid loser, I sedate ye.
Yes, live devil, as I tip it, it is.
I tip it. I peep it.
‘Send a man a gross orgasm!
I am, Ms, a crass, base dud.’

Ah, supple holes made me dire.
Lame fate got old, a most ogled omen.
O, did I tap a tit? A pat? I did.
Boobs or pasties, a bosom . . . Mmm –
Uh oh –
Ahem, pal!’
Fast, I toss a tip.
‘Mr, arse?’: a warning.
I sat ogled.
O, men! O, me, to tame Tina!

To gits I’m all animal.
‘Sit now,’ I say, as I do.
‘Got it!’ A pull … up it now I peer … camise
yonder I keep.
I tip, I riff, or on one post untied, I ring.
I say, ‘O boy! My, my, baby. Ticklish?’
Alas, a bossy baby. Ergo, nope.
Yes, I rise. Yes.
‘Ah, can I flow on, Miss?’ I hit it.
‘Oh, madam!’ Stress all astir oft.
‘Ah, we’re too hot.’

Ah, we met a rebel god as animals.
I won’t nod. I’ll act.
Eyes open, I fall.
It’s we few, dim, all ill.
I’m in a man-made reverie, babe.
Now on one pole: Stella!
Ever I wonder, Miss, as I tip (also ten, if stiff).
It’s o so still. A creep’s eyes peer.
Call it so.
So stiff, it’s fine to slap. It is arse.

I’m red now.
I reveal, ‘Let’s elope!’ ‘No.’
Now one babe I revere. Damn! A man.
I’m ill, ill amid we few still.
A fine pose yet call I don’t.
Now I slam in a sad ogle.
‘Berate me!’
‘What?’ O, hoot. Ere? What for?

‘It’s all,’ asserts madam, ‘ho tit.’
I hiss, ‘I’m no wolf in a chase.’ Yes, I rise. Yep.
O, no. Grey baby’s so basal.
Ah, silk city baby, my, my. O boy, a sign!
I ride it, nuts open. On or off, I rip it. I peek.
Ired, no? Yes, I’m a creep.
I won’t. I pull up a tit.
‘O God,’ I say, as I won’t.
I slam, in all, a mist.

I got an item, a totem.
One model got a sign in raw arse.
Armpit. arse. O, tits. A flap! Me!
Ha, ho, hum. Mmm. O, so base.
It’s a pro’s boob.
Did I tap a tit? A pat? I did.
One model got so mad.
Lo, to get a female. ‘Ride me, damsel.
O, help push a dude’s abs.’

Sarcasm maims a gross organ, a mad nest.
I peep. I tip it. I sit. I tip.
It is a live devil’s eye.
Yet a desire’s old. I’m it: one vamp, a lap maven.
O, too fast I slam.
In all, it’s a K.O.
Wow! Ow. Two now. Ow.
O, boob, a topside war.
Even and still it’s never even.
Sexes. Eh, the sexes.

It appears there were some throughout history that had way too much time on their hands.