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The Parrot
OK this is a Brit Silly Poem
Pete Brown was an animal lover he went out of his way to be kind but he once had a row with a parrot that near sent him out of his mind on his way to the factory in't mornin past pet shop each day he would walk. and as he passed tut window, a parrot these words of alarm it would squawk "I know about thee...most offensive, it gave poor old pete quite a turn and he wondered how the parrot had managed his innermost secrets to learn Well this it went on for a fortnight till the whole thing was getting absurd so at last he went into the pet shop and said "how much do you want for yon bird" Its nobbut for sale, said the pet man that parrot is private its mine "Al give thee ten pound..Pete persisted "nowt doin..twill never be thine" So he left feeling rather downhearted and then on the very next day "I know about thee"..shrieked the parrot as the pet shop he passed on his way So, back to the shop and the pet man Pete offered him one hundred quid! "its nobbut for sale said "tut old fella not even if a thousand you bid" "But seeing you've been so persistant and for't trouble to which you have been tut parrot laid a big egg this morning you can have it for three pounds fifteen" Pete took the egg home and he warmed it each day for a crack he would watch. and soon all his care was rewarded as the offspring of't parrot did hatch While passing the pet shop next morning he braced himself ready for't cry; "I know abaht thee"! said the parrot and fixed him with it's evil eye Pete stopped and turned round to the parrot. he gave it a withering look. " I know about thee too, he answered Tha's had it away with a duck"! |
Gentleman,
start your excuses! Quit your whining boys. Drive. Prove you're better or I will. ~Danica Patrick |
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https://scontent-b-sea.xx.fbcdn.net/...29694223_n.jpg
*after spending the last 10 minutes trying to figure out the sizing, all I can say is SO sorry! Especially if you haven't had your coffee yet. :) |
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“There has always been a paradox to romance: Our one great desire to know someone fully and a pervasive fear that our lover will see the parts of us we don’t bring into the light.”
-MichaelXavier |
The Valley of I Hate Myself by Kirsten Smith
After a few years of You can have me if you don’t hurt me and You can kiss me if you promise to leave soon, I pack my stuff and head south. I drive past the ranch style homes of I like to watch it burn and the freakish dust bowl of If I can’t have you no one will, and into the valley of I hate myself. Forget the bad weather and the dead weight of ghosts, the plus sides make themselves immediately clear: if you plant something, it is almost certain to grow, if you want to live off the land, there is plenty of it. Every night the moon is full and the torrid hum of people having fun— well, it just isn’t there. As far as neighbors go, they’re far from nosy. They stop to say hello only if you’re armed or bleeding. They aren’t interested in the feel-good moments of I think I might come clean or I know I can fix what I once so carelessly broke. They only want the good stuff— the cheating on the husbands, the booze, the drugs, the solemn way you broke everyone’s hearts, mostly your own. They like to hear about all that time you wasted when you could have been Making Something of Your Damn Life. Guilt is the religion of choice here and every Sunday, the pews are full of people who’ve come to sing the songs of Kurt Cobain or Karen Carpenter. The stores are stocked full of meat and cheese and alcohol and the meth labs are clean and unionized. The coke dealers are so well-liked one of them ran for mayor and won. It’s no wonder people never take day trips to the nearby town of Everything’s coming up roses or attempt to try the new Chinese place in Life’s what you make it. But the highlight of it all has to be the walks I take at night. I stroll past the recycling center of self-loathing and the dumping ground for dreams that die hard, and head onto Main Street, stopping to look in the window of the local pawn shop. There’s a guitar and a typewriter and a gold heart locket on a chain, a trinket to remind us that the thing in our chests can’t possibly be as empty as it feels. A few other people pass by, people who were lonely in life and now are here together and we share tight small smiles some of which might even be read as I love you. |
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Who
Who was the first person to say "see that chicken there am going to eat the next thing that comes out of its bum"
Who was the first person to look at a cow and say "I think I will squeeze its dangly things and drink whatever comes out" If Wily E Coyote had enough money to buy all that acme stuff. Why didn't he just go out and buy dinner? And did you notice when you blow in a dogs face he doesn't like it..yet when you take him out in the car, he sticks his head out the window.:confused::blink: |
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We are exactly where we have chosen to be.--Vernon Howard
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