Phroggy B. Goode

Friends who have passed certain initiation rituals call me "frenchy" or "froggy". Ernest is one such friend. Once in a while, he gets a wild silly creative midnight itch, takes a popular song or movie tirade, and adapts it to someone from the office. Maybe one day I'll post his Pulp Fiction - Ezekiel 25:17 bit. But for now, behold his latest creation:


Deep down in Pasadena close to New York Drive
Way back up in the hood among the evergreens
There stood a frog cubie made of glass and wood
Where lived a frenchie boy named Phroggy B. Goode
Who never ever learned to drive in traffic so well
But he could hack the web just like ringing a bell

Go Go
Go Phroggy Go Go
Go Phroggy Go Go
Go Phroggy Go Go
Go Phroggy Go Go Go
Phroggy B. Goode

He used to carry his Powerbook in a gunny sack
And sit beside the beach where he liked to hack
Old engineers used to see him sitting in the shade
Hacking to the rhythm that the ocean made
People all around the web would watch his website load
Oh my that little frenchie boy sure can code

His mother told him someday you will would be a frog
And you will be the writer of a big ol' blog
Many users surfin' from miles around
Will see you hack the web when the sun go down
Maybe someday your name'll be on Google's site
Saying 'Phroggy B. Goode tonight'