Date: Mon, 24 Jul 95 10:00:55 PDT
From: Barry Gold <barryg@sparc.SanDiegoCA.ATTGIS.COM>To: bawdy-l@bdragon.jjm.com
Subject: Eskimo Nell
Message-Id: <9507241700.AA01088@sv303.SanDiegoCA.attgis.com>
X-Listname: Bawdy Filking
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Status: RO
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The version Alan Thiesen posted differs in several places from the one
in my trad.  But, rather than just putting mine in, I've decided to
combine them, using what I consider the best parts of both.

Wherever I've changed Alan's version, I marked the line with a ! at
the beginning.  Sometimes the ! marks a completely new line, sometimes
a change as small as adding or deleting a monosyllable to make the
scansion a little smoother.

THE BALLAD OF ESKIMO NELL

When a man grows old and his balls grow cold, and the end of his knob
    turns blue;
! When it's bent in the middle like a one-string fiddle, he can tell
    a yarn or two.
So find me a seat and stand me a drink and a tale to you I'll tell
Of Dead-eye Dick and Mexico Pete and the gentle Eskimo Nell.

! When Dead-eye Dick and Mexico Pete go forth in search of fun,
It's usually Dick who wields the prick and Mexico Pete the gun.
And when Dead-eye Dick and Mexico Pete are sore, depressed, and mad,
'Tis the cunt that usually bears the brunt, so the shooting ain't so bad.

There was rarely a day without a lay, and usually two or three
For Dead-eye Dick, his kingly prick was always like a tree.
Now Dead-eye Dick and Mexico Pete had been hunting in Deadman's creek.
And they'd had no luck in the way of a fuck for nigh on half a week.

Just a moose or two and a caribou, and a bison cow or so;
And for Dead-eye Dick with his kingly prick this fucking was mighty slow.
So do or dare, this horny pair set out for the Rio Grande.
Dead-eye Dick with his muscular prick and Pete with his gun in hand.

As they rode down the trail without no tail, Pete was mad as hell
For Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick had fucked the horse as well.
! They blazed a trail of randy tail, and no man their path withstood.
And many a bride who was hubby's pride knew pregnant widowhood.

! useless quatrain deleted

They made the strand of the Rio Grande at the height of a blazing noon.
! And to slake their thirst and do their worst, they sought Black Mike's Saloon.
They opened the doors on the men and whores, both prick and gun flashed free;
"According to sex, you bleedin' wrecks, you drinks or fucks with me."

Now they'd heard of the prick called Dead-eye Dick from the Horn to Panama;
And with nothing worse than a muttered curse those cowhands sought the bar.
The women, too, knew his playful ways, from down on the Rio Grande;
And forty whores took down their drawers at Dead-eye Dick's command.

The women were scared they'd all be mared.  This really is no lie,
For Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick was hard to satisfy.
They saw the fingers of Mexico Pete twitch on the trigger grip.
'Twas death to wait.  At a fearful rate those whores began to strip.

Now Dead-eye Dick was breathing quick with lecherous snorts and grunts
As forty asses were bared to view, to say nothing of forty cunts.
Now forty asses and forty cunts, you'll see if you use your wits
And rattle a bit of arithmetic is likewise eighty tits.

And eighty tits is a gladsome sight for a man with a raging stand.
More may be there in Berkeley Square but not on the Rio Grande.
Our dead-eye Dick, he fucks 'em quick, so he backed and took a run
And he laid a dart and the nearest tart, and scored a bull in one.

! Down he bore to the sandy floor.  He fucked her deep and fine
And though she grinned, it put the wind up the other thirty nine.
Our dead-eye Dick, he fucks 'em quick, and flinging the first aside,
He was making ag'in at the second quim when the door swung open wide.

And into that hall of sin and vice, into that harlot's hell,
! Strode a lusty maid who was unafraid, and her name was Eskimo Nell.
    (additional couplet)
! Our Dead-eye Dick who fucks 'em quick was well in twenty-two
! When Eskimo Nell let out a yell and said to him, "Hey...you!"

The hefty lout, he turned about, both knob and face were red.
With a single flick of his mighty prick, the tart flew o'er his head.
But Eskimo Nell, she stood it well, and looked him in the eyes.
With the utmost scorn, she glimpsed the horn that rose from his hairy thighs.

She blew a puff from her cigarette onto his steaming knob.
So utterly beat was Mexico Pete he forgot to do his job.
! It was Eskimo Nell who broke the spell in accents calm and cool,
"Ah, ya cunt-drunk shrimp of a Yankee pimp, you call that thing a tool?

! "If this here town can't take that down," she sneered to the cowering whores,
There's one little cunt who can do that stunt.  It's Eskimo Nell's, not yours."
She shed her garments one by one, with an air of conscious pride
'Til at last she stood in her maidenhood and they saw the Great Divide.

She laid right down on the tabletop where someone had left a glass.
With a twitch of her tits, she crushed it to bits between the cheeks of her ass.
She bent her knees with supple ease and opened her legs apart.
With final nod to the randy sod, gave him the cue to start.

But Dead-eye Dick, with his king of a prick, prepared to take his time,
For a girl like this was fucking bliss, so he staged a pantomime.
He winked his arse-hole in and out, and made his balls inflate
Until they looked like the granite knobs on top of a garden gate.

He rubbed his foreskin up and down.  His knob increased in size.
His mighty prick grew twice as thick and almost reached his eyes.
He polished the rod with rum and gob to make it steaming hot,
And to finish the job he sprinkled the knob with a cayenne pepper pot.

! He didn't back to take a run, or yet a flying leap;
But bent right down and came 'long side with a steady forward creep.
Then he took a sight as a gunman might along his mighty tool
And shoved his lust with a dextrous thrust, firm, calculating, and cool.

Have you seen the giant pistons on the mighty C.P.R.?
With the punishing force of a thousand horse.  You know what pistons are.
Oh you think you do, but you've yet to learn the awe inspiring trick
Of the work that's done on a non-stop run by a man like Dead-eye Dick.

! But Eskimo Nell was an infidel.  She equalled a whole hareem
! With the strength of ten in her abdomen and a rock of ages beam.
Amidships the rush, she could stand like the flush of a modern water closet.
So she grasped his cock like the Chatwood lock on the National Safe Deposit.

She lay for a while with a subtle smile while the grip of her cunt grew keener.
And giving a sigh, she sucked him dry with the ease of a vacuum cleaner.
She performed this feat in a way so neat as to set at complete defiance
! Both the primary cause and the basic laws that govern sexual science.

    [I'm not sure of the value of the next couplet, but I'm leaving it in.]
She calmly rode through the phallic fold which for years had stood the test
And the ancient laws of the classic school, in a moment or two, went West.
And now, my friend, we draw to the end of this copulating epic.
! The effect on Dick was sudden and quick, and akin to an anaesthetic.

! He slipped to the floor and he knew no more -- his passions extinct
!     and dead --
! He didn't shout as his tool came out.  It was worn down to a thread.
! And Mexico Pete, he sprang to his feet to avenge his pal's affront.
With a fearful jolt, he drew his Colt, and rammed it up her cunt.

! He shoved it up to the trigger grip, and fired three and three.
But to his surprise, she rolled her eyes and smiled in ecstasy.
She leapt to her feet with a smile so sweet.  "And bully," she said, "for you.
! Though I might have guessed, it's about the best you phony lechers do.

"When next your friend and you intend to sally forth for fun,
Buy Dead-eye Dick a sugar stick and get yourself a bun.
! "I'm going back to the frozen North, to the land where spunk is spunk
! Not a tricking stream of lukewarm cream, but a solid frozen chunk.

"Back to the land where they understand what it means to fornicate.
Where even the dead sleep two in a bed and infants copulate.
"I'm goin' home to frozen Nome where all girls know the trade.
They're taught from birth, for all they're worth, and mighty men get laid.

! "Back to the land of the mighty stand where the nights are six months long.
Where the polar bear whacks off in his lair, that's where they'll sing
    this song.

"They'll tell this tale on the arctic trail where the nights are sixty below.
Where it's so damn cold, French letters are sold wrapped up in a ball of snow.
    [weak couplet deleted]
"In the Valley of Death, with bated breath, it's there they'll sing it, too.
Where the skeletons rattle in sexual battle, and moldering corpses screw."

    [And that's a _fine_ place to end it.  I suspect Alan's final
    couplet was added by someone other than the original author(s).]





From bdragon!bawdy-owner@jjmhome.jjm.com Sun Aug 13 15:39:23 1995
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