The Twisted Twits
(Sung to the tune of The Brady Bunch theme)
Here’s the story of a welfare mother
Who was bringing up three very troubled kids.
All of them were bi-polar, like their mother.
They’d already flipped their lids.
Here’s the story of an alcoholic
Who also couldn’t make his marriage last.
He had three kids, equally neurotic.
They were going downhill fast.
Till one day when they met at an AA meeting.
And he thought, “Wow, she’s got nice, big tits.”
They got drunk and ended up screwing.
That’s the way they all became the twisted twits.
The twisted twits.
The twisted twits.
That’s the way they became the twisted twits.
Narrator:
Welcome to our new show, kids - The Brady Bunch 2006!
In this episode, Greg sells Bobby’s train set to get a fix.
Marcia is pregnant (again) and Jan is smoking crack.
Mr. B is schtupping Alice while she prepares a snack.
Greg’s up in the master bedroom banging his step-mom
Screaming (in his Tupak t-shirt), “Baby, you da bomb!”
Later, Cindy smuggles meth to school in her underwear.
Mom's passed out on the couch, too pissed drunk to care.
Marcia won’t tell Jan who it is that she’s been screwing
But everybody knows what she and Peter have been doing.
Marcia screams, “What do you care if we do each other?
Gimme a break, bitch! Peter’s not even my real brother!"
For a while, Bobby seems okay, and not the least bit shady.
He’s even ashamed to admit to anyone that he’s a Brady.
But eventually, the pressure turns even him into a cutter.
He starts huffing paint fumes and overdoses in the gutter.
Father Brady gets twenty years for committing statutory rape.
He met a 12-year old on My Space and they got it all on tape.
The family has to apply for every form of welfare known to man
With no money for fixes, you’ll finally see the Brady's use the can!
Enjoy it, folks! The first episode of the brand new Brady show!
I’m sure you’ll find it much better than the show from years ago.
You won’t be annoyed by corny plots about fixing broken lamps
Or telling spooky ghost stories around the fire at summer camps.
We won’t bore you with silly plots about UFO’s in the night sky
Or remind you of how it hurts your heart and soul to tell a lie.
Those arrogant old TV shows used to try to elevate the mind
With sanctimonious, little messages about being true and kind.
But you don’t want that hogwash now, right? Reality’s the goal.
And you sure don’t want to think about the quality of your soul.
So just relax while we show you how despicable people can be.
We’ll show you the worst until you believe it represents reality.
Think about it, wouldn't you rather see Marcia in a good chick fight
Than be preached to about the difference between wrong and right?
It helps the ratings to fixate on our self-imposed misery and strife.
And when it’s over, you’ll feel much better about your messed up life!
Adding your comment:
Even so, from the last stanzas, I got a good jist (they seem like a 'suped up' Waltons) 
P.S. PMP stands for 'pissing my pants' 
Personally, I'm still dry... but it was funny nonetheless. Nice write.
I wasn't sure of the spelling when I was writing this so I looked it up on the internet and found both spellings were being used. I guess the sch beginning makes it a Yiddish word. They have so many great words - schlep, schmuck, schlemille, schlamazza, schmeckle, etc. lol \
Only a poem written with this humor and bluntness (hey, is that even a word?) could be created by you 
