I was watching TV with my son Avery and burst out laughing at one of the ads. I don’t know what was being sold, but a little girl in the park was choosing a partner using one of my favourite old songs:
“My mother and your mother were hanging out clothes, my mother punched your mother right in the nose. What colour was her blood?”
Of course the point of the rhyme is to have someone guess the correct blood colour that the singer is thinking of, and they are chosen.
One other playground favourite:
“—–‘s it, had a fit, kissed a naked idiot!”
Politically correct they ain’t