yeah, i know the follow-ups have not followed up - but the other "oh boo" moments are still in the making.
we have a big time at nanchouse when everyone gets home - EVERY SINGLE DAY!
this evening happened to be a slow night so nancpop and nancson sat down for a game of trivial pursuit - they use me as their mulligan (think golf). when they cannot answer a question, they ask me.
things were rolling along as i was reading my news when i heard nancpop ask nancson, "what's the base of the soup "vicky soo say"? honest. as i turned to look at nancson i realized he'd perfected that cocked dumb dog look and goofy "tim the tool man" whine tim allen was famous for.
as i was about to fall off my chair - nancson said, "what?" and my husband repeated it verbatim. so, i went ahead and fell out of the chair - OW!
once i wiped the tears from my eyes and the snot from my nose - i thought "now is a very good time to step in."
do you mean "vichysoisse"? both, in unison, "huh?" me, "the soup." them, in unison (dayam they're good), "huh?" me, "the french potato soup? - vichysoisse?"
my word! you'd think two men who are quite aware of what a "porte cochere" is would know what "vichysoisse" is...
those pesky french.
150 comments:
i should have asked if they wanted "krowtuns" with their "vicky soo say"! it hit me in the middle of the night.
I like them litte horse doovers.
LOL, thats funny
nac, did you do something with your hair?(avatar)
That's why the fwench are so snobby, they know their language is hysterically funny and it hurts their wittle feewings!
Good morning, G*D bless and Maranatha!
tmw
This from someone who flunked HS fwench!
mornin' warren, bensosilly, and tmw - we are in a winter weather advisory this morning - snow perhaps! way too early.
warren - yes and the french do know how to make them little!
bens - i borrowed this one and have been too lazy to go put my other back on. i love this patriotic little fellow.
tmw - yes, so janet sasquatch!
C'est la Vie Nanc.. Me old mate!
Bloggers been acting strange today
kathy - WHO YOU CALLIN' OLD?
hehehe!
beak - don't i know it - now i'm having a time getting to aow's! bad day on the course.
So what does Petain and his surrender monkies have to do with potatoes? The basis of vicky soo say has always been surrender.
I saw Casablanca, Louie. Throw the bottle into the trash.
...and some people think that water in bottles is a recent invention.
Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
"V for Vendetta"
it is my day to give farmer "the great" forum.
there's something very vichy around here...
Well you know what they say about guests, vichy and 3 days!
tmw
c'est soisse?
I can take a hint!
It's the laurel smoke from my censor, isn't it? It is rather aromatic.
That, and I know I had Bad Breath at Fern's roast, and apparently, I've still got it.
Is there cuspidor in this room, or am I gonna have to make use of the floor?
And since I lost the cow-pie chuckin' contest to EB, can I mark a line and start a spittin' one?
er-r-r-r. Forget the spittin' contest. Last time I messed with Jim, he taught me to never again to spit into the wind again.
Marmelade makes me hot!
Too hot, I'm afraid.
Wee Willie ;-)le
Runs through the town
Upstairs, downstairs, in his nightgown
Tapping at the window, crying through the lock
Are the children in their beds? It’s now eight o’clock!
nanc,
You keep sittin' on that tripod with your feet in the air, and you're gonna get dizzy!
One foot on the ground at all times!
><)))*>sniff<*(((><
nope, it's not your breath!
censor **still smokin**!!
French is a language where you have to feel it before understanding it.
no, but i don't mind if i do!
farmer?
i have a strong feeling steve is trying to come between us.
This site has become a virtual menagerie! Now that everyone has come, it must be my time to leave!
ciao, bella!
ciao horace.
ps - Those unicorns can't be caught by just anybody. They are very, very fragile creatures!
signed,
A Horace of a different colour.
straight from the horace's mouth!
Get thee to Tennessee, ARCansans!
i remember that movie from my childhood, not knowing the symbolism then and not thinking about it much until reading your link.
my father used to pile us all in the car for the drive-in every week - it didn't matter what was showing - remember double features AND a cartoon? thank God he and my mother divorced by the time i was five or six.
farmer? there is too much to know.
...but the net IS great for reminisence. A spark & a Google is all it takes.
This particular censor lost way too many brain cells to smoke and the California Public School System in the '70's. It wasn't until I read Plato's Phadreus that I learned the error of our modern ways.
i am also a victim of the 60-70's californistan school system...
...but I hate to say, the sparks have gotten a little out-of-hand in this rotten pumpkin-head of mine.
The stamp-impressions in my wax tablet have worn away (Plato, "Theaetetus"). The original material was not worked properly during its' formation.
The Moslems have got the right idea. Rote memorization & repetition turns memory to habit, and eventually... instinct.
if only they'd put it to good use.
Its' hard to find good uses for surplus-urbanites in the middle of a desert. Many hands may make lite work, but watchin' daddy's goats don't take much.
Civilizations are always conquered from the desert. Its' the law.
Malthus "Essay on the Principal of Population"
Population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio. Subsistence increases only in an arithmetical ratio. A slight acquaintance with numbers will shew the immensity of the first power in comparison of the second.
By that law of our nature which makes food necessary to the life of man, the effects of these two unequal powers must be kept equal.
This implies a strong and constantly operating check on population from the difficulty of subsistence. This difficulty must fall somewhere and must necessarily be severely felt by a large portion of mankind.
look what the jews did with israel. what was it mark twain said about israel when he visited?
guess it depends on what a collective people's idea of productivity is.
After Mo, Ghengis Khan came out of the Gobi Desert and conquered half the world.
...the Jews had an advantage over the Arabs. They were civilized. There's a big difference between a tame man and a wild man. The former has the benefit of a conscience and confidence in the law. The latter will never surrender his personal force option. Especially if Allah doesn't condemn it, and frequently beats his own subjects through "lawful intermediaries".
The Pope was on the right track.
...but was blind to the Platonic monotheistic trap.
The Christian G_d is Good. He is Love.
The Platonic G_d is indescribable. Any attempted description would be heresy.
and he certainly didn't mince words:
"The greatest pleasure of a man is
to vanquish your enemies and chase
them before you, to rob them of their wealth and see those dear to them bathed in tears, to ride
their horses and clasp to your
bosom their wives and daughters"
i must go have my old lady beauty nap.
ado
okay, i'm back - it never takes long!
Right. There are No non-force prohibitions. Plato's duality describing Heraclitus' Panta Rhei implies that G_d's realm is one of motionless motion something akin to thought or Perfect Knowledge... but Plato understood the inadequacy of his descriptions, of his world of Perfect Forms. As he relates such tales, he is usually busy walking across through a river (implying motion) or using some like literary device.
Its' a 'H of a lot easier for Mo's Allah to say to His people, play Simple Simon. Mo is Simon.
...I shouldn't complain though. Christians play the same game. WWJD. It's a lot harder to do a Platonic Monty Pythonesque Now for something completely different and expect any degree of comprehension that can have no definition.
thus - imperfect souls - there is none righteous, farmer - no, not one.
i wear my imperfections on my sleeve even when trying to appear perfect! analyze that.
it's always a good thursday when you're around. what i want to know is how much are they paying you to keep me busy and where's my cut?
The Catholics incorprated the motionless motion Mind of G_d Platonic description into their own (thereby winning over many pagan neo-platonists converts) left over from the Roman days. It is one of those "postulates" that Catholics take for granted, and never challenge. Heck, why challenge it? A lot of "good" falls out logically, as a result.
What Islam has is a population problem. Its' always growing.
Way too much nanc. The system is broken.
we must be sure to have beamish' slippers and cigarette ready when/if he arrives!
systems will always break without a leader who has a heart for THE people. people will always break when they have no system. i guess that's the ying and yang of it.
Definitely imperfect. Too bad the seculars keep trying to imply that they can "perfect" it scientifically They have no clue as to the amount of religion directly embedded into mathematics...or as I like to call it...Ma'at-Themis-Ma'at-ics. Two invisible war gods of "truth" surrounded a Greek "justice". Another way to think of it is >Psi-ence.
Its' scary, really. Math is pure religion. Old & sacred. Of course the Moslems gave us the zero and al-Geb-Ra
They think they've separated Church and State... little do they know.
The secularists never examine their premises. They'd pee their pants if they ever did.
Loyalty nanc. Why did Iago betray Othello? This system is built on f'ing Iago over. Honors are given to victims in our society. Not old fashioned "heroes". Courage is dead. Manliness is "unwanted" in a world who's desire "end" (omega) is whirrled peas. Kids can't even run on the playground anymore. we must all sit at our desks with folded hands. "Thought" sans "action". For to act is to err, and to err is to sin.
that DEPENDS!
"pee their pants" - sorry i could not resist...
...the Moslems don't make courage a sin, and don't worship "thought". Granted that puts them at a disadvantage in some respects, but also at an advantage in others. All they have to do is get "irrational" and they win.
Fortunately, the Shi'a in Iraq are no longer listenning to us and are giving the Sunni's payback (60 bodies a day in Bagdad). At least there's a chance of al Quaeda coming to the table now.
Fire w/Fire. The Neo's are good at that. I just wish all our tactical cammanders could see it that way, too.
...the people at home? Fogeddabouddit! Its' way over their heads. They're far too civilized.
farmer - evil people do not love the good in others - they want to find a weakness and go for the one-two punch. for some it's easier to seethe in their juices than to sincerely congratulate them on a job well done.
of course, i believe there are those who have NO good in them whatsoever and they need to be brought to justice. they're always searching for motive in others while they have their own tenfold. am i thinking of a sociopath? pleasing for all intents and purposes, but a dark cavern resides where their heart meets their brain.
Moqtada al-Sadr is America's best friend. The coalition (US) forces need to let that man alone!
The truth is "will to power". It contains no "justice". It takes a really good philosopher to understand the efficacy of Ma'at-Themis-Ma'at-ics. Truth surrounding "justice". Truth alone is over-rated. Pure "will to power" is a bellum omni contra omnes? Pure truth gets us all dead, or worse (animals).
...and civilized men have trouble deliberately causing either. But there is "generation from opposites". Pain makes people seek to avoid it.
Wisdom is a triangle. Justice is a triangle with one angle "rounded". Kinda like a sunrise. or a Ra of light at sunrise. It can be bent by a prism, light separated and scattered. Well, by a good philosopher, anyway ;-)
Checkout the different window treatments (especially farthest and lowest left). Triangles and alternating semi-circles. ma'at-themis-ma'at-ics.
different doors for different types of souls, round being "pure heaven". Eyes for the needles. Will your soul fit?
The rectangles are for us "earth-borne" bodies.
The Iranians so hate squares. We love squares and wavy curtains (where the Magic of justice takes place).
All French things are trivial pursuits.
The greatest injustice done to Western Civilization in all of history has been the odd habit of including France in discussions of Western Civilization.
oh great! "leave it to beamish" comes in and changes the subject!
now what were we talking about?
FJ said And since I lost the cow-pie chuckin' contest to EB, can I mark a line and start a spittin' one?"
and NOBODY told me!
Where's my door?
Here it is EB. You can have the one on the right. I'll spit down-wind.
See How Washington (rectangle) stretched himself so high? His soul was really up there. Notice that when our soul is in our body, we become a pentagram. I guess the mind is the devil's workshop. One of the lines rests in "his terrain".
Of course, once you die, you leave by a different door.
Did you know that a tomb was built for Washington under the Capitol Dome? His soul left by a different route. America's Cincinnatus had a more divinely shaped soul. He walked with G_d.
Me, I'm a little "flatter" than them. I'll settle for one of these. I can ony hope that my soul is sufficiently just when placed in the heavenly scales...
...and some souls are bigger than others.
btw - those aren't air shafts. They line up at specific "points" and then "resurrect" into a double cube. Our end of a "transporter". SG-1 anyone???
...now GIVE me MY screen door!
...or weave me a tale worthy of my Babe.
The Iranians are trying to stretch souls. In reality, they punch square pegs into round holes by brute force.
Every "maker" has his methods. We aim to get the souls to properly shapes "themselves". It takes less force, and ultimately, less energy.
Of course, our way doesn't always work. But then again, neither does theirs.
Notice the "doors" behind the speaker's chairs in the Iranian parliment. What they are really doing is "shrinking" the squares so that they'll fit through triangular altar. Clever? Or have they misjudged the flow-rate necessary?
Just in case you missed the picture...here's a re-link.
You can either get to heaven by hook, crook or Book.
I think, I'll try the latter...
...and let the Spirit move me.
I'm more of a reflected light. Perhaps my soul will end up at a "lesser" lite. I try to not to take myself too Siriusly.
Listenning to and dancing to music under Mt. Parnassus.
Olympus is for suckers ;-)
The lite's too blinding for me at Helicon. The Horse Springs, as I am a hippo, might also be nice...
Hesiod "Theogeny"...
(ll. 1-25) From the Heliconian Muses let us begin to sing, who hold the great and holy mount of Helicon, and dance on soft feet about the deep-blue spring and the altar of the almighty son of Cronos, and, when they have washed their tender bodies in Permessus or in the Horse's Spring or Olmeius, make their fair, lovely dances upon highest Helicon and move with vigorous feet. Thence they arise and go abroad by night, veiled in thick mist, and utter their song with lovely voice, praising Zeus the aegis- holder and queenly Hera of Argos who walks on golden sandals and the daughter of Zeus the aegis-holder bright-eyed Athene, and Phoebus Apollo, and Artemis who delights in arrows, and Poseidon the earth-holder who shakes the earth, and reverend Themis and quick-glancing (1) Aphrodite, and Hebe with the crown of gold, and fair Dione, Leto, Iapetus, and Cronos the crafty counsellor, Eos and great Helius and bright Selene, Earth too, and great Oceanus, and dark Night, and the holy race of all the other deathless ones that are for ever. And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon, and this word first the goddesses said to me -- the Muses of Olympus, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis:
(ll. 26-28) `Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, we know how to speak many false things as though they were true; but we know, when we will, to utter true things.'
(ll. 29-35) So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus, and they plucked and gave me a rod, a shoot of sturdy laurel, a marvellous thing, and breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things there were aforetime; and they bade me sing of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally, but ever to sing of themselves both first and last. But why all this about oak or stone? (2)
(ll. 36-52) Come thou, let us begin with the Muses who gladden the great spirit of their father Zeus in Olympus with their songs, telling of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime with consenting voice. Unwearying flows the sweet sound from their lips, and the house of their father Zeus the loud-thunderer is glad at the lily-like voice of the goddesses as it spread abroad, and the peaks of snowy Olympus resound, and the homes of the immortals. And they uttering their immortal voice, celebrate in song first of all the reverend race of the gods from the beginning, those whom Earth and wide Heaven begot, and the gods sprung of these, givers of good things. Then, next, the goddesses sing of Zeus, the father of gods and men, as they begin and end their strain, how much he is the most excellent among the gods and supreme in power. And again, they chant the race of men and strong giants, and gladden the heart of Zeus within Olympus, -- the Olympian Muses, daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder.
(ll. 53-74) Them in Pieria did Mnemosyne (Memory), who reigns over the hills of Eleuther, bear of union with the father, the son of Cronos, a forgetting of ills and a rest from sorrow. For nine nights did wise Zeus lie with her, entering her holy bed remote from the immortals. And when a year was passed and the seasons came round as the months waned, and many days were accomplished, she bare nine daughters, all of one mind, whose hearts are set upon song and their spirit free from care, a little way from the topmost peak of snowy Olympus. There are their bright dancing-places and beautiful homes, and beside them the Graces and Himerus (Desire) live in delight. And they, uttering through their lips a lovely voice, sing the laws of all and the goodly ways of the immortals, uttering their lovely voice. Then went they to Olympus, delighting in their sweet voice, with heavenly song, and the dark earth resounded about them as they chanted, and a lovely sound rose up beneath their feet as they went to their father. And he was reigning in heaven, himself holding the lightning and glowing thunderbolt, when he had overcome by might his father Cronos; and he distributed fairly to the immortals their portions and declared their privileges.
(ll. 75-103) These things, then, the Muses sang who dwell on Olympus, nine daughters begotten by great Zeus, Cleio and Euterpe, Thaleia, Melpomene and Terpsichore, and Erato and Polyhymnia and Urania and Calliope (3), who is the chiefest of them all, for she attends on worshipful princes: whomsoever of heaven-nourished princes the daughters of great Zeus honour, and behold him at his birth, they pour sweet dew upon his tongue, and from his lips flow gracious words. All the people look towards him while he settles causes with true judgements: and he, speaking surely, would soon make wise end even of a great quarrel; for therefore are there princes wise in heart, because when the people are being misguided in their assembly, they set right the matter again with ease, persuading them with gentle words. And when he passes through a gathering, they greet him as a god with gentle reverence, and he is conspicuous amongst the assembled: such is the holy gift of the Muses to men. For it is through the Muses and far-shooting Apollo that there are singers and harpers upon the earth; but princes are of Zeus, and happy is he whom the Muses love: sweet flows speech from his mouth. For though a man have sorrow and grief in his newly-troubled soul and live in dread because his heart is distressed, yet, when a singer, the servant of the Muses, chants the glorious deeds of men of old and the blessed gods who inhabit Olympus, at once he forgets his heaviness and remembers not his sorrows at all; but the gifts of the goddesses soon turn him away from these.
(ll. 104-115) Hail, children of Zeus! Grant lovely song and celebrate the holy race of the deathless gods who are for ever, those that were born of Earth and starry Heaven and gloomy Night and them that briny Sea did rear. Tell how at the first gods and earth came to be, and rivers, and the boundless sea with its raging swell, and the gleaming stars, and the wide heaven above, and the gods who were born of them, givers of good things, and how they divided their wealth, and how they shared their honours amongst them, and also how at the first they took many-folded Olympus. These things declare to me from the beginning, ye Muses who dwell in the house of Olympus, and tell me which of them first came to be.
Ahhhh, Keep your screen door, EB. I think I'll fashion meself a laurel wreath. Or perhaps throw a thrysus over my shoulder, and join Bacchus/Dionysius in a revel rout! Euripides did write one good tale!
That one's for you, nanc.
;+
The twin towers were rectangles (paired) stretched very-very high...
And the Pentagon was just too many pentagrams...
Homeland Security needs to study sacred geometry!
...the targets were "symbols".
Osama didn't strike on 9/10.
9 is Poseidon's number.
11 is polytheism.
There can only be 1, One.
...and 10 is an "enniad" 9gods+1man+Other
...a different sort of Trinity.
I doubt if Osama is aware of Pallas Athene's struggle against Poseidon (West face of Parthenon). All he saw was men (4) entering a Pentagon(5). He assumed they were working for Poseidon (9).
...the earth-shaker. The thunderer. The horse(hippo) breaker.
...that one's for country. But nobody listens to Cassandra. It's the Plato-Cave effect...
Plato, "Republic"
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows
with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was
still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would
be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable),
would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down
he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of
ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the
light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
No question, he said.
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the
previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the
fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the
journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world
according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed--
whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my
opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of
all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to
be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light
and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of
reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which
he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his
eye fixed.
for below the earth rests Poseidon's brother. Hades (8). Two Souls, paired, meeting at the same place. Two cicles, and where a soul "weighing" is performed.
See the numbers as "soul symbols" hieroglyphs....
...a laGrange point in 8. Gravity from Sun and Moon cancel out. A good place to parks a satellite. ;-)
...Wanna buy a ticket? Talk to a "Gates" partner. ;-)
Bill
1/2 a soul. (B)
Sun over earth (i)
twin-towers stretched (LL)
LOL!
LOL! lol!!
My soul's laughing...
Just proves, Freud was right about comedy.
You've heard of "body" language.
Cultures talk too.
Bite Me Noam Chompski!
Bill's destiny from the astrologer...
He becomes bILL.
A soul below separated by a column (I) from two-right-angles.
I guess there IS justice after all.
Shapes within shapes, circles within circles.
ike a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel,
Like a snowball down a mountain or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning running rings around the moon,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space,
Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own,
Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone,
Like a door that keeps revolving in a half-forgotten dream,
Or the ripples from a pebble someone tosses in a stream,
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past the minutes of its face,
And the world is like an apple whirling silently in space,
ike the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind.
Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head;
Why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along a shore and leave their footprints in the sand;
Is the sound of distant drumming just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragments of a song,
Half-remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over, were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning to the color of her hair?
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel,
As the images unwind, like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind.
Is the journey the destination?
Maybe two-rights will square his wrongs!
Beats me, warren. It would be nice if ends and means could somehow be the same, but I suspect that Ixion's wheel never ceases to spin.
At least in this place.
...and that path's less travelled don't necessarily go the same place.
I don't know the way to Larissa.
I don't even have "right opinion".
I only know that I know nothing.
I only mis-repeat stories I have heard tell...
ditto for sights, smells, tastes, and feelings.
...pentagonal senses.
I play in my workshop with the snake. Whether or not I bite his head off... we'll see.
But I do like to put my feet up off the ground every once and a while and let the tripod support me while I chew a laurel leaf!
...and let the priests of Apollo figure my ramblings out and tell mortal men.
...or a priestess of Artemis ;-)
I thought I was the energizer bunny.
Well I'm done spittin' EB.
Your turn.
Don't leave Babe just standing there! The line's drawn. S-S-S-S-Spit!
...before some vulture grabs ya!
I don't want to hear any Tut-tut-tuts
...(only literally)
justice surrounded by Truths!
T-u-t
Plato "Cratylus"...
SOCRATES: Nor can we reasonably say, Cratylus, that there is knowledge at
all, if everything is in a state of transition and there is nothing
abiding; for knowledge too cannot continue to be knowledge unless
continuing always to abide and exist. But if the very nature of knowledge
changes, at the time when the change occurs there will be no knowledge; and
if the transition is always going on, there will always be no knowledge,
and, according to this view, there will be no one to know and nothing to be
known: but if that which knows and that which is known exists ever, and
the beautiful and the good and every other thing also exist, then I do not
think that they can resemble a process or flux, as we were just now
supposing. Whether there is this eternal nature in things, or whether the
truth is what Heracleitus and his followers and many others say, is a
question hard to determine; and no man of sense will like to put himself or
the education of his mind in the power of names: neither will he so far
trust names or the givers of names as to be confident in any knowledge
which condemns himself and other existences to an unhealthy state of
unreality; he will not believe that all things leak like a pot, or imagine
that the world is a man who has a running at the nose. This may be true,
Cratylus, but is also very likely to be untrue; and therefore I would not
have you be too easily persuaded of it. Reflect well and like a man, and
do not easily accept such a doctrine; for you are young and of an age to
learn. And when you have found the truth, come and tell me.
::sigh::
is your heart heavy this morning, farmer?
it appears you've passed your ailment to warren.
Vichysoisse? It took me a minute to get the joke but once it sunk in I had a pretty good laugh.
oh, it's no joke, a.c. - these are real life moments and there is no library that could contain them - everyday - everyday!
i've been working on posting "oh boo" moment #47,895,720,321 for six or four days now. i'm surrounded by notebooks and card files - HELP!
Nope, its' lite as a feather.
My apologies to warren. I didn't mean to bring him down. I'm just a bird in a bush flying over Cloud Cuckooland that refuses to be caged.
...probably more of a Boetian, really.
ok FJ you win.
sore loser...
I'm used to it...remember the door is my new ralllying cry!
you challenging me to a duel, evileye?
or was that "lizard eye"?
you lily livered one-eyed son of a habanero-challenged cowpoke!
Let him draws first, nanc ;-)
My mouth went dry on that last spit.
And warren (Herc) will need to divert enother river if he's ever gonna get this stable clean again.
nanc I'm not calling off Jackie Chiles just because you use flattery.
FJ, our motto is:
The difficult done immediately. The impossible, slightly longer.
:^)
Some advice from Star Trek V:
Capt Kirk:"Tell me, Mr. Scott. Why do you always multiply your repair estimates by a factor of 4?"
Mr. Scott: "T' preserve me reputation as a miracle worker, Sir!"
Farmer John,
You haven't read the "fine print" ~!
Now I know what to ask my wife for Xmas...a pair of hip-boots from the LR boutique.
Your right, nobody ever reads the fine print.
Course, I'd also like to get beamish a new pair of slippers (they're probably cheaper than a new robe)... I think I'll ask Mrs Farmer to put a pair on lay-away...
O, Dem Golden Slippers
(note - Every Mummer and Mummers fan knows the tune to this song. But not everyone knows the words. The unofficial theme song of the Mummers Parade, it was written by the African-American Philadelphian James A. Bland in 1879.)
Oh my golden slippers am laid away,
Kase I don't 'spect to wear 'em till my weddin' day,
And my long-tail'd coat, dat I lov'd so well,
I will wear up in de chariot in de morn.
An my long, white robe dat I bought last June,
I'm gwine to git changed kase it fits too soon,
An de old grey hoss dat I used to drive,
I will hitch him to de chariot in de morn.
Refrain
Oh, dem golden slippers!
Oh, dem golden slippers!
Golden slippers I'm gwine to wear,
Becase dey look so neat.
Oh, dem golden slippers!
Oh, dem golden slippers!
Golden slippers I'se gwine to wear,
To walk de golden street.
Oh, my ole banjo hangs on de wall,
Kase it ain't been tuned since way last fall,
But de darks all say we will hab a good time,
When we ride up in de chariot in de morn.
Dar's ole Brudder Ben and Sister Luce,
Dey will telegraph de news to Uncle Bacco Juice,
What a great camp-meetin' der will be dat day,
When we ride up in de chariot in de morn.
Refrain
So, it's good bye, children, I will have to go
Whar de rain don't fall or de wind don't blow,
And yer ulster coats, why, yer will not need,
When yer ride up in de chariot in de morn.
But yer golden slippers must be nice and clean,
And yer age must be just sweet sixteen,
And yer white kid gloves yer will have to wear,
When yer ride up in de chariot in de morn.
Refrain
...As for cigarettes, you'd better get those (although he should probably switch to "Bacco Juice" or Tomacco)
My bad, beamish already knows how to spit.
i have a difficult time with those "refrain"s - could you remove them, farmer?
Sorry, but when you have tools rated in real Horsepower, you need more than a Porte Cochere to keep them under to refrain them...
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and once the barn door has been openned, the horses get out and you can never catch them again.
I'm not as young as I once was.
oh I see change the rules after someone complains. Jackie's already on this Sir Warren.
and you never will be, farmer - that's one of the great things about aging!
Amen!
...besides, most of the hay is inside the barn. ;-)
::spit::
I told ya!
Si j'avais un clavier francais, ceci se comprendrait!!!!
Okay....so how IS it pronounced?
(I admit it--I don't parley-voo-franky)
hey daddio!
that would be:
VISHY SWAH!
so why don't they just write it that way?
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