Ozark
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 4012
Loc: out in the woods
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"As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!"
WKRP in Cincinnati
I thought I was the only one warped enough to remember that all these years.
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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I like Monkeys.
The pet store was selling them for 5 cents a piece.
I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand each.
I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I bought 200. I like monkeys.
I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car.
I let one drive. His name was Sigmund.
He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright.
They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed.
Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.
I herded them in my room.
They didn't adapt very well to their new environment.
They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam in to the wall.
Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.
Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died.
No apparent reason. They just sorta dropped dead.
Kinda like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys.
I didn't know what to do.
There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase.
It looked like I had 200 throw rugs.
I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work.
It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.
I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals.
That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose.
It started to smell real bad.
I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber.
I was embarrassed.
I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them.
Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds.
I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad.
I tried burning them.
Little didI know my bed was flammable.
I had to extinguish the fire.
Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving.
I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys or use the bathroom.
I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better.
I tried throwing them away but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates.
I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either.
I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.
I finally arrived at a solution.
I gave them out as Christmas gifts.
My friends didn't know quite what to say.
They pretended that they like them but I could tell they were lying.
Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.
I like Monkeys.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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In an effort to "class the place up a bit" I offer a little Shakespear.
It comes with an explanation, since most of you are duck hunters. 
St. Crispin's Day speech...
WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day!
(Holy chit! We are outnumbered! If we only had some of those bloody bastards who are sitting on their asses back in England!)
KING. What's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland?
(Why do you want that cuz?)
No, my fair cousin; If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss;
(Nope, cousin dude. If we're destined to get our butts kicked there are enough of us.)
and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
(But if we're gonna win, think of what an upset it would be. They would talk about us for years. It would be like the Jets beating Baltimore in Super Bowl III.)
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
(I don't want any more men. We're fighting the French after all.)
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
(Holy crap! I'm not doing this for money.)
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
(And I don't care if the dudes with me are doing it for money.)
It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
(I don't even care if my men wear my uniforms.)
But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive.
(But if it's a sin to want honor and glory than I am the biggest sinner on the planet.)
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
(Nope! I don't want any more men.)
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour As one man more methinks would share from me For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
(Nope. If I had just one more man he would take honor away from me. I am the quarterback. Just like Namath I want to shine.)
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
(Tell the rest of the army,)
That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart;
(that if there is anyone who is a beardedclam, get the f*ck out of here.)
his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
(Give him three purple hearts. It will be his ticket home.)
We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
(We would not die in the company of a phony bastard such as he that would use scratches to get purple hearts and cut short his tour of duty by 8 months. Get the fork out of my sight! You are not worthy to die with us.)
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
(When St. Crispin's Day comes around every one who returns home will look at this day proudly.)
And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
(The night before St. Crispin's day he'll roll up his sleeves and show the scars and tell him he got them on St. Crispin's Day at Agincourt.)
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day.
(He may forget other stuff in old age, but not the Battle of Agincourt!)
Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words- Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
(All of our names will be remembered.)
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
(While knocking down some brewskis,)
This story shall the good man teach his son;
(The old veteran will teach his son.)
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world,
(And on this day from now until the end of the world,)
But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
(our small but happy force, this band of brothers)
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
A(nyone who fights with me will be my brother. He won't return to England and stab us all in the back by falsely accusing us of war crimes.) (OK. I added that last part to make this more relevant to today.)
This day shall gentle his condition;
(This day will make him a better person.)
Make him a member of the gentry, even if he is a commoner.
(If he's lower class this will make him upper class. And he won't even have to marry for it.)
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
(And all those beardedclams back home in bed,)
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
(will know that they were wusses because they didn't have the balls to be with us.)
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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COWBOY POETRY - BUYING A BRA
I ain't much for shopping,
Or for goin' into town
Except at cattle-shipping time,
I ain't too easily found.
But the day came when I had to go -
I left the kids with Ma.
But 'fore I left, she asked me,
"Would you pick me up a bra?"
So without thinkin' I said, "Sure,"
How tough could that job be?
An' I bent down and kissed her
Said, "I'll be back by three."
Well, I done the things I needed,
But I started to regret
Ever offering to buy that thing -
I worked me up a sweat
I walked into the ladies shop
My hat pulled over my eyes,
I didn't want to take a chance
On bein' recognized.
I walked up to the sales clerk -
I didn't hem or haw -
I told that lady right straight out,
"I'm here to buy a bra."
From behind I heard some snickers,
So I turned around to see
Every woman in that store
Was a'gawkin' right at me!
"What kind would you be looking for?"
Well, I just scratched my head.
I'd only seen one kind before,
"Thought bras was bras," I said.
She gave me a disgusted look,
"Well sir, that's where you're wrong.
Follow me," I heard her say,
Like a dog, I tagged along.
She took me down this alley
Where bras was on display.
I thought my jaw would hit the floor
When I saw that lingerie.
They had all these different styles
That I'd never seen before
I thought I'd go plumb crazy
'fore I left that women's store.
They had bras you wear for eighteen hours
And bras that cross your heart.
There was bras that lift and separate,
And that was just the start.
They had bras that made you feel
Like you ain't wearing one at all,
And bras that you can train in
When yo u start off when you're small.
Well, I finally made my mind up -
Picked a black and lacy one -
I told the lady, "Bag it up,"
And figured I was done.
But then she asked me for the size
I didn't hesitate
I knew that measurement by heart,
"A six-and-seven-eighths."
"Six and seven eighths you say?
That really isn't right."
"Oh, yes ma'am! I'm real positive -
I measured them last night!"
I thought that she'd go into shock,
Musta took her by surprise
When I told her that my wife's bust
Was the same as my hat size.
"That's what I used to measure with,
I figured it was fair,
But if I'm wrong, I'm sorry ma'am."
This drew another stare.
By now a crowd had gathered
And they all was crackin' up
When the lady asked to see my hat,
To measure for the cup.
When she finally had it figured,
I gave the gal her pay.
Then I tur ned to leave the store,
Tipped my hat and said, "Good day."
My wife had heard the story
'fore I ever made it home.
She'd talked to fifteen women
Who called her on the phone.
She was still a-laughin'
But by then I didn't care.
Now she don't ask and I don't shop
For women's underwear.[
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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An Archbishop of Canterbury Tale (Rowan Williams lampooned in Chaucerian verse. )
"With apologies to Geoffrey Chaucer"
Heere Bigynneth the Tale of the Asse-Hatte.
1 Whan in Februar, withe hise global warmynge
2 Midst unseasonabyl rain and stormynge
3 Gaia in hyr heat encourages
4 Englande folke to goon pilgrimages.
5 Frome everiches farme and shire
6 Frome London Towne and Lancanshire
7 The pilgryms toward Canterbury wended
8 Wyth fyve weke holiday leave extended
9 In hybryd Prius and Subaru
10 Off the Boughton Bypasse, east on M2.
11 Fouer and Twyntie theye came to seke
12 The Arche-Bishop, wyse and meke
13 Labouryte and hippye, Gaye and Greene
14 Anti-warre and libertyne
15 All sondry folke urbayne and progressyve
16 Vexed by Musselmans aggressyve.
17 Hie and thither to the Arche-Bishop's manse
18 The pilgryms ryde and fynde perchance
19 The hooly Bishop takynge tea
20 Whilste watching himselfe on BBC.
21 Heere was a hooly manne of peace
22 Withe bearyd of snow and wyld brows of fleece
23 Whilhom stoode athwart the Bush crusades
24 Withe peace march papier-mache paraydes.
25 Sayeth the pilgryms to Bishop Rowan,
26 "Father, we do not like howe thynges are goin'.
27 You know we are as Lefte as thee,
28 But of layte have beyn chaunced to see
29 From Edinburgh to London-towne
30 The Musslemans in burnoose gowne
31 Who beat theyr ownselfs with theyr knyves
32 Than goon home and beat theyr wyves
33 And slaye theyr daughtyrs in honour killlynge
34 Howe do we stoppe the bloode fromme spillynge?"
35 The Bishop sipped upon hys tea
36 And sayed, "an open mind must we
37 Keep, for know thee well the Mussel-man
38 Has hys own laws for hys own clan
39 So question not hys Muslim reason
40 And presaerve ye well social cohesion."
41 Sayth the libertine, "'tis well and goode
42 But sharia goes now where nae it should;
43 I liketh bigge buttes and I cannot lye,
44 You othere faelows can't denye,
45 But the council closed my wenching pub,
46 To please the Imams, aye thaere's the rub."
47 Sayeth the Bishop, strokynge his chin,
48 "To the Mosque-man, sexe is sinne
49 So as to staye in his goode-graces
50 Cover well thy wenches' faces
51 And abstain ye Chavs from ribaldry
52 Welcome him to our communitie."
53 "But Father Williams," sayed the Gaye-manne
54 "Though I am but a layman
55 The Mussleman youthes hath smyte me so
56 Whan on streets I saunter wyth my beau."
57 Sayed the Bishop in a curt replye
58 "I am as toolrant as anye oothere guy,
59 But if Mussleman law sayes no packynge fudge,
60 Really nowe, who are we to judge?"
61 Then bespake the Po-Mo artist,
62 "My last skulptyure was hailed as smartest
63 Bye sondry criticks at the Tate
64 Whom called it genius, brillyant, greate
65 A Jesus skulpted out of dunge
66 Earned four starres in the Guardian;
67 But now the same schtick withe Mo-ha-med
68 Has earned a bountye on my hed."
69 Sayed the Bishop, "that's quyte impressyve
70 To crafte a Jesus so transgressyve
71 But to do so with the Muslim Prophet
72 Doomed thy neck to lose whats off it.
73 Thou should have showen mor chivalrie
74 In committynge such a blasphemie."
75 And so it went, the pilgryms all
76 Complaynynge of the Muslim thrall;
77 To eaches same the Bishop lectured
78 About the cultur fabrick textured
79 With rainbow threyds from everie nation
80 With rainbow laws for all situations.
81 "But Father Rowan, we bathyr nae one
82 We onlye want to hav our funne!"
83 "But the Musselman is sure to see
84 Thy funne as Western hegemony.
85 'Tis not Cristian for Cristians to cause
86 The Moor to live by Cristendom's laws
87 Whan he has hise sovereyn culture
88 Crist bade us put ours in sepulture.
89 To be divyne we must first be diverse
90 So cheer thee well, thynges could be wors
91 Sharia is Englishe as tea and scones,
92 So everybody muste get stoned."
93 The pilgryms shuffled for the door
94 To face the rule of the Moor;
95 Poets, Professors, Starbucks workers
96 Donning turbans, veils and burqqas.
97 As they face theyr fynal curtan
98 Of Englande folk, one thynge is certan:
99 Dying by theyr own thousande cuts,
100 The Englande folk are folking nuts.
101 BURMA SHAVE
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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100 Names For Boobs
Jugs and orbs and darts and gourds
Elmer Fudds and bouncing Buddhas
Sweater stretchers, lung protectors
Beach umbrellas, frost detectors
Scooby Snacks and snake-eyes dice
Jell-o molds and high-beam lights
Every day I probably use
99 words for boobs
Humpty Dumplings, Hardy Boys
Double lattes, Ode to Joys
Hooters, shooters, physics tutors
Bobbsey Twins and bald commuters
Double-WMD's
MRE's and PFD's
Snow-white dwarfs, Picasso cubes
99 words for boobs
Gerber servers, holy grails
Whoopee cushions, humpback whales
Flying saucers, traffic stoppers
Super Big Gulps, Double Whoppers
Pillows, billows, Don DeLillos
Soft-serve cones and armadillos
Pimped-out hubcaps, inner tubes
99 words for boobs
Midget earmuffs, warming globes
Strobes and probes and frontal lobes
Knockers, honkers, knicker bonkers
Smurfs and Screaming Yellow Zonkers
Tannin' cannons, Mister Bigs
Big bad wolves and Porky Pigs
Jogging partners, saline noobs
99 words for boobs
Two-point jumpers, Bambi's thumpers
Rubber baby buggy bumpers
Rutabagas, Chi Omegas
Schwag the showgirls show in Vegas
Congo bongos, bowling pins
Fast-pitch softballs, siamese twins
Your claims I'm breast-obsessed are true
We're quite a pair 'cause I'm a boob too
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Poisoning Pigeons in the Park
I'd like to take you now on wings of song as it were, and try and help you forget, perhaps, for a while, your drab wretched lives. Here is a song all about springtime in general, and in particular about one of the many delightful pastimes that the coming of spring affords us all...
Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
I do, don't you? 'Course you do.
But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me,
And makes every Sunday a treat for me.
All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.
Every Sunday you'll see
My sweetheart and me,
As we poison the pigeons in the park.
When they see us coming, the birdies all try an' hide,
But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.
The sun's shining bright,
Everything seems all right,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.
We've gained notoriety,
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With our games.
They call it impiety
And lack of propriety,
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant names.
But it's not against any religion
To want to dispose of a pigeon.
So if Sunday you're free,
Why don't you come with me,
And we'll poison the pigeons in the park.
And maybe we'll do
In a squirrel* or two,
While we're poisoning pigeons in the park.
We'll murder them all amid laughter and merriment,
Except for the few we take home to experiment.
My pulse will be quickenin'
With each drop of strych'nine
We feed to a pigeon.
(It just takes a smidgin!)
To poison a pigeon in the park.
Thank you!
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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YANKS
O’Leary, from Chicago, and a first-class fightin’ man,
For his father was from Kerry, where the gentle art began:
Sergeant Dennis P. O’Leary, from somewhere on Archie Road,
Dodgin’ shells and smellin’ powder while the battle ebbed and flowed.
And the captain says: “O’Leary, from your fightin’ company
Pick a dozen fightin’ Yankees and come skirmishin’ with me;
Pick a dozen fightin’ devils, and I know it’s you who can.”
And O’Leary, he saluted like a first-class fightin’ man.
O’Leary’s eye was piercin’ and O’Leary’s voice was clear:
“Dimitri Georgoupoulos!” And Dimitri answered “Here!”
Then “Vladimir Slaminsky! Step three paces to the front,
For we’re wantin’ you to join us in a little Heinie hunt!”
“Garibaldi Ravioli!” Garibaldi was to share;
And “Ole Axel Kettleson!” and “Thomas Scalp-the-Bear!”
Who was Choctaw by inheritance, bred in the blood and bones,
But set down in army records by the name of Thomas Jones.
“Van Winkle Schuyler Stuyvesant!” Van Winkle was a bud
From the ancient tree of Stuyvesant and had it in his blood;
“Don Miguel de Colombo!” Don Miguel’s next of kin
Were across the Rio Grande when Don Miguel went in.
“Ulysses Grant O’Sheridan!” Ulysses’ sire, you see,
Had been at Appomattox near the famous apple-tree;
And “Patrick Michael Casey!” Patrick Michael, you can tell,
Was a fightin’ man by nature with three fightin’ names as well.
“Joe Wheeler Lee!” And Joseph had a pair of fightin’ eyes;
And his granddad was a Johnny, as perhaps you might surmise;
Then “Robert Bruce MacPherson!” And the Yankee squad was done
With “Isaac Abie Cohen!” once a lightweight champion.
Then O’Leary paced ‘em forward and, says he: “You Yanks, fall in!”
And he marched ‘em to the captain. “Let the skirmishin’ begin.”
Says he, “The Yanks are comin’, and you beat ‘em if you can!”
And saluted like a soldier and first-class fightin’ man!
–James W. Foley
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Ozark
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 4012
Loc: out in the woods
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I like the WWI "Yanks" a lot.
I've got a friend who wants this one read at his funeral.
The Little Red God
Here's a little red song to the god of guts,
Who dwells in palaces, brothels, huts;
The Little Red God with the craw of grit;
The god who never learned how to quit;
He is neither a fool with a frozen smile,
Or a sad old toad in a cask of bile;
He can dance with a shoe-nail in his heel
And never a sign of his pain reveal;
He can hold a mob with an empty gun
And turn a tragedy into fun;
Kill a man in a flash, a breath,
Or snatch a friend from the claws of death;
Swallow the pill of sure defeat
And plan attack in his slow retreat;
Spin the wheel till the numbers dance
And bite his thumb at the god of Chance;
Drink straight water with whisky-soaks,
Or call for liquor with temperance folks;
Tearless stand at the graven stone,
Yet weep in the silence of night, alone;
Worship a sweet, white virgin's glove,
Or teach a courtesan how to love;
Dare the dullness of fireside bliss,
Or stake his soul for a wanton's kiss;
Blind his soul to a woman's eyes
When she says she loves and he knows she lies;
Shovel dung in the city mart
To earn a crust for his chosen art;
Build where the builders all have failed,
And sail the seas that no man has sailed;
Run a tunnel or dam a stream,
Or damn the men who finance the dream;
Tell a pal what his work is worth,
Though he lose his last, best friend on earth;
Lend the critical monkey-elf
A razor - hoping he'll kill himself;
Wear the garments he likes to wear,
Never dreaming that people stare;
Go to church if his conscience wills,
Or find his own - in the far, blue hills.
He is kind and gentle, or harsh and gruff;
He is tender as love - or he's rawhide tough;
A rough-necked rider in spurs and chaps,
Or well-groomed son of the town - perhaps;
And this is the Little Red God of which I sing,
Who cares not a wallop for anything
That walks or gallops, that crawls or struts,
No matter how clothed - if it hasn't got guts.
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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I'm posting your on another site that will appreciate it.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Ozark
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 4012
Loc: out in the woods
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Swampfox - Another one I like is Kipling's "Recessional". He wrote it for Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee in 1897, and as we know, empires eventually fade. It kinda puts things in perspective for an old soldier/cop of the most powerful nation on earth. note: "Gentiles" meant "heathens" in Kipling's time.
Recessional by Rudyard Kipling
God of our fathers, known of old--
Lord of our far-flung battle line
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies;
The captains and the kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!
Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe--
Such boasting as the Gentiles use
Or lesser breeds without the law--
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget - lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard--
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding, calls not Thee to guard--
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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That does put things in perspective.
Thanks
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Ozark
member
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 4012
Loc: out in the woods
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Then there's this politically-incorrect one by Kipling. He wrote it in 1899 to urge the U.S. to assume the task of developing and civilizing the Phillipines.
I think it's real relevant in terms of what we're doing in Iraq and Afghanistan now, and the help we've tried to give to many other third-world countries in the last 60 years. The resistance of uncivilized people to civilization is something that really never changes.
The White Man's Burden by Rudyard Kipling
Take up the White Man's burden -
Send forth the best ye breed -
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild -
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.
Take up the White Man's burden -
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.
Take up the White Man's burden -
The savage wars of peace -
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.
Take up the White Man's burden -
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper -
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.
Take up the White Man's burden -
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard -
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light: -
"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"
Take up the White Man's burden -
Ye dare not stoop to less -
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.
Take up the White Man's burden -
Have done with childish days -
The lightly proferred laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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AS I LIE AWAKE
I lie awake waiting for you.
As I lie on my bed, thinking about you, I feel this strong urge to grab you and squeeze you, because I can't forget last night.
You came to me unexpectedly during the balmy and calm night, and what happened in my bed still leaves a tingling sensation in me.
You appeared from nowhere and shamelessly, without any reservations, you lay on my naked body. You sensed my indifference, so you applied your hungry mouth to me without any guilt or humiliation, and you nearly drove me crazy while you drained me.
Finally I went to sleep.
Today when I woke up, you were gone.
I searched for you but to no avail, only the sheets bore witness to last night's events.
My body still bears faint marks of your enthusiastic ravishings, making it harder to forget you.
Tonight I will remain awake waiting for you...
you forking mosquito.
--------------------
"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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A VISITOR FROM THE PAST
I had a dream the other night, I didn't understand.
A figure walking through the mist, with flintlock in his hand.
His clothes were torn and dirty, as he stood there by the bed,
He took off his three-cornered hat, and speaking low, he said:
"We fought a revolution, to secure our liberty.
We wrote the Constitution, as a shield from tyranny,
For future generations, this legacy we gave,
In this, the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"The freedom we secured for you, we hoped you'd always keep.
But tyrants labored endlessly, while your parents were asleep.
Your freedom gone, your courage lost, you're no more than a slave,
In this, the land of the free and the home of the brave."
"You buy permits to travel, and permits to own a gun,
Permits to start a business, or to build a place for one.
On land that you believe you own, you pay a yearly rent,
Although you have no voice in choosing how the money's spent."
"Your children must attend a school that doesn't educate.
Your Christian values can't be taught, according to the state.
You read about the current news, in a regulated press.
You pay a tax you do not owe, to please the I.R.S."
"Your money is no longer made of silver or of gold.
You trade your wealth for paper, so your life can be controlled
You pay for crimes that make our nation turn from God in shame,
You've taken Satan's number, as you've traded in your name."
"You've given government control to those who do you harm,
So they can padlock churches, and steal the family farm,
And keep the country deep in debt, put men of God in jail,
Harass your fellow countrymen, while corrupted courts prevail."
"Your public servants don't uphold the solemn oath they've sworn.
Your daughters visit doctors so their children won't be born.
Your leaders ship artillery and guns to foreign shores,
And send your sons to slaughter, fighting other people's wars."
"Can you regain freedom for which we fought and died?
Or don't you have the courage or the faith to stand with pride.
Are there no more values for which you'll fight to save?
Or do you wish your children to live in fear and be a slave?"
"Sons of the Republic, arise and take a stand!
Defend the Constitution, the Supreme Law of the Land!
Preserve our great republic and each God-given right,
And pray to God to keep the torch of freedom burning bright!"
As I awoke he vanished, in the mist from which he came.
His words were true, we are not free. We have ourselves to blame.
For even now as tyrants trample each God-given right,
We only watch and tremble, too afraid to stand and fight.
If he stood by your bedside, in a dream while you're asleep,
And wondered what remains of our rights he fought to keep,
What would be your answer, if he called out from the grave?
Is this still the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave?
Author Thelen Paulk
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Oh kittens, in our hours of ease
Uncertain toys and full of fleas,
When pain and anguish hang o’er men,
We turn you into sausage then.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Oh Lord, where is my foreskin
That you took from me at birth,
When wifey looks at what I have
It fills her up with mirth.
I'd rather fill her with myself
You know I'd never boast.
Please give me back my missing inch
For when I need it most.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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If …. Kipling Only Knew
If you can keep your job while all about you
Are fielding bribes and blaming it on you,
If you can duck the Feds while all men doubt you,
And bleep-ing show the charges are untrue,
If you can fight and not be tired by fighting,
Or, being wiretapped, profess surprise,
Or argue that there will be no indicting
Because it’s all a bleep-ing pack of lies.
If you can scheme - but never scheme in writing,
If you can talk - but not from your home phone,
If you can face the press and keep reciting
That truth is on your side, though you’re alone;
If you can bear to hear the bleeps you’ve spoken
Quoted on Fox TV and “Meet the Press”
Or watch that Senate seat become a token
Of all the things they’d like you to confess
If you can just accuse them all of spinning
And quote a bit of Kipling on the way
And comb your hair and somehow keep on grinning
And tell them no one ever paid to play;
If you can force them to accept your own rights
To publicly refuse this bitter cup,
And fight them till you’ve drained yourself of sound bites,
Except the Will to say to them: “Shut up!”
If you once walked with Rezko and Obama
Or spoke with Jesse Junior and with Rahm
If you can overcome this legal drama,
If you can show that no one greased your palm
If you can take that Senate seat and fill it
With someone who will swear you’re not a knave
Yours is the Land of Lincoln, and yet still it
Will have Kipling rolling over in his grave.
--------------------
"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Oh, I Wish I'd Looked After Me Tits
By Pam Ayres
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me dear old knockers,
Not flashed them to boys behind the school lockers,
Or let them get fondled by randy old dockers,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits.
'Cos now I'm much older and gravity's winning.
It's Nature's revenge for all that sinning,
And those dirty memories are rapidly dimming,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits.
'Cos tits can be such troublesome things
When they no longer bounce, but dangle and swing.
And although they go well with my Bingo wings,
I wish I'd looked after me tits..
When they're both long enough to tie up in a bow,
When it's not the sweet chariot that swings low,
When they're less of a friend and more of a foe,
Then I wish I'd looked after me tits.
When I was young I got whistles and hoots,
From the men on the site to the men in the suits,
Now me nipples get stuck in the zips on me boots,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits.
When I was younger I rode bikes and scooters,
Cruising around with my favourite suitors.
Now the wheels get entangled with my dangling hooters,
I wish I'd looked after me tits..
When they follow behind and get trapped in the door,
When they're less in the air and more near the floor,
When people see less of them rather than more,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me tits.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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The greatest pleasure 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.
-Genghis Khan
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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Bubba
strangesly aroused
Reged: 12/14/05
Posts: 3828
Loc: Lemmingstan
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I like big butts and I can not lie..
Sir Mixalot
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God Bless our Troops!
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Having trouble getting that picture out of your mind?
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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As Posted By Mel...
Owed to the Spelling Checker
by Jerrold H. Zar
I have a spelling checker.
It came with my PC.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh,
My checker tolled me sew.
A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.
Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed to bee a joule
The checker poured o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.
Be fore a veiling checkers
Hour spelling mite decline,
And if were lacks or have a laps,
We wood be maid to wine.
Butt now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know faults with in my cite,
Of none eye am a wear.
Now spelling does knot phase me,
It does knot bring a tier.
My pay purrs awl due glad den
With wrapped words fare as hear.
To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should be proud.
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaws are knot aloud.
Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft ware for pea seas,
And why I brake in two averse
By righting wants too pleas.
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
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Jabberstocky!
Twas bullig, and the slithy brokers
Did buy and gamble in the craze
All rosy were the Dow Jones stokers
By market's wrath unphazed.
"Beware the Jabberstock, my son!
The cost that bites, the worth that falls!
Beware the Econ'mist's word, and shun
The spurious Street o' Walls!"
He took his forecast sword in hand:
Long time the Boesk'some foe he sought -
Sake's liquidity, so d'vested he,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in bearish thought he stood
The Jabberstock, with clothes of tweed,
Came waffling with the truth too good,
And yuppied great with greed!
Chip Black! Chip Blue! And through and through
the forecast blade went snicker-snack!
It bit the dirt, and with its shirt,
He went rebounding back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberstock?
Come to my firm, V.P.ish boy!
O big bucks day! Moolah! Good Play!"
He bought him a Mercedes Toy.
Twas panic, and the slithy brokers
Did gyre and tumble in the Crash
All flimsy were the Dow Jones stokers
And mammon's wrath them bash!
(By Peter Stucki with apologies to Lewis Carrol)
peter@prism.UUCP
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"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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SwampFox
member
Reged: 12/13/05
Posts: 7970
Loc: Mid Mo
|
|
One evening in October, when I was one-third sober,
An' taking home a ‘load' with manly pride;
My poor feet began to stutter, so I lay down in the gutter,
And a pig came up an' lay down by my side;
Then we sang ‘It's all fair weather when good fellows get together,'
Till a lady passing by was heard to say:
‘You can tell a man who "boozes" by the company he chooses'
And the pig got up and slowly walked away
--------------------
"Being deeply learned and skilled, being well trained and using well spoken words; this is good luck."
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