“Ay yai yai yai…,” of course, is the chorus to a determinedly filthy limerick song that I naturally know nothing else about. Nothing. And there are no records that could demonstrate that I do, in fact, know about ten verses of it. I’m respectable now these days, I am.
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Don’t forget Harold Shea dismissing the Blatant Beast with “The Ballad of Eskimo Nell” in The Incompleat Enchanter …
Eskimo Nell would have had the Man from Nantucket for breakfast … and complained about the small serving.