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total posts: 713
Blog title: Conversational Prime Directives
Blog description: My blog
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARBOR GIRL Posted on Fri, Mar 06, 2009 07:54
Happy Birthday to You Happy Birthday to You Happy Birthday Dear Arbor Girl May Your Day Be Real Good. (See why I steal other peoples poetry instead of writing my own?)
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Freedom's Just Another Word Posted on Wed, Dec 31, 2008 13:08

I recently posted a blog called "Tickle Them Ivories" which included the lyrics to the Kristopherson¿song below.¿ Somehow, the Blog survived but all the words went away - but - I wanted this song up so, here it is again.


Busted flat in Baton Rouge, heading for the trains,
Feelin nearly faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,took us all the way to New Orleans.
Took my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana
And was blowin sad while Bobby sang the blues,
With them windshield wipers slappin time and
Bobby clapping hands with mine


we finally sang up every song
That driver knew.

Freedoms just another word for nothin left to lose,
And nothin aint worth nothin but its free,
Feelin good was easy, lord, when Bobby sang the blues,
And buddy, that was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

From the coalmines of Kentucky to the California sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul,
Standin right beside me through everything I done,
And every night she kept me from the cold.
Then somewhere near Salinas, Lord, I let her slip away,
She was looking for the love I hope she ll find,
Well Id trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday,
Holding Bobby¿s body close to mine.

Freedoms just another word for nothin left to lose,
And nothin aint worth nothin but its free,
Feelin good was easy, lord, when Bobby sang the blues,
And buddy, that was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

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Crash of 08 Posted on Thu, Dec 18, 2008 10:20
Back in the 1929 Financial Crash, it was said that some Wall Street Stockbrokers and Bankers JUMPED from their office windows and committed suicide when confronted with the news of their firms and clients financial ruin. Many people were said to almost feel a little sorry for them . . . In 2008, the attitude has changed somewhat:
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Profile Updated Posted on Wed, Dec 10, 2008 13:56
When I first open this Wacky Program and get the Welcome Screen, or My Account Page, whatever, there is now a message in bold blue letters which says Profile last updated on 02/12/04. Say what? First time I saw that message I went to my profile and, there they were - 14 photos all taken AFTER 2004. It shows Age 66 - it's the same profile I last updated some time within the past month. On 02/12/04 I was a young 61 year-old. I have no idea what my profile said in the blocks describing myself and what I was seeking, some meaningless drivel no doubt. Thinking back, though, during the years that followed I found much MUCH better than the drivel I had written, here on BK. I found Friends. When I scroll down through my "Favorites" I find Profiles from Oklahoma and other places which haven't changed since 2004. I even have, in my favorites, a profile for someone who died over two years ago - someone I never met - the news that she had died was posted on the blogs . . . All the blogs posted over the past couple of years which contained gripes and complaints about the so-called Service from BK (and this blog IS one of those) - add them all up and there is so much Negative Energy I can't believe the darned website hasn't turned into a huge flaming bag of poo. Apparently there are about six of us who are still "Preferred Members" - - - and in my case, it's because I'm some kind of die-hard idiot. I don't LIKE that other site. I have what might be called Residual Affection for BK because of the Blogs. No, they sure ain't what they used to be. But - they are still here, some of us are still here, and it's still fun to post some of my ramblings (like this one) and to Visit with people I like, read each others' comments, and generally, have contact with some good and nice people. Contact I wouldn't have if I left BK - - - did I mention I don't like that other site? So - I'm still a goldmember. I didn't say I've GOT ONE, I said I am one. I could have put that $56 with some more $ and gotten myself an orange authorized Caterpillar Fine Fuel Filter for Christmas - but instead - I gave it to BK's parent company (a group which appears to be staffed by people whose native tongue seems to be English!). And I'm glad I did. I am very VERY Thankful for the Friends I have found on BK. DT BTW - This photo was taken in February 2004. Note brand new leathers (the creaked); Bambi - thin whitewalls, very little Chrome, no pinstripes - but even so, by then, she had loud pipes. :^)
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Congratulations to the Milfs!!! Posted on Tue, Dec 02, 2008 06:11
My Wonderful Friend Sam - AKA MilfMom - tied the knot this past weekend - entering into a Lifetime Partnership with her Super Honey. I wish them Great Big Huge Blessings, and whatever problems they have may they be little teeny weeny ones. :^) Hopefuly Sam will post some photos here . . . of the Wedding, Sam!!! Not the Honeymoon!!!! SAM!!!!! DT
Happy Birthday Regret Posted on Wed, Nov 19, 2008 17:25
And a fine belated Happy Birthday to Miss Regret59!!!! :^)
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Needing Regret Posted on Mon, Nov 03, 2008 13:14
I just got this - an Irsh Blessing - from my Choctaw Daughter. It touched me very deeply - and so I am sharing it here: I wish you not a path devoid of clouds, Nor a life on a bed of roses; Not that you might never need regret, nor that you should never feel pain. No that is not my wish for you. My wish for you is that you might be brave in times of trial; when others lay crosses upon your shoulders. When mountains must be climbed and chasms crossed, When hope scarce can shine through That every gift God gave you might grow; And let you give the gift of joy to all who care for you; That you may always have a friend worthy of the name, That you can trust and who helps you in times of sadness; Who will defy the storms of daily life at your side. One more wish I have for you that in every hour of joy and pain you may feel God close to you. This is my wish your for you and all who care for you. - - - - - - - Thank you Weona, and Hailito Friend to You. DT
Two Hearts Beating as One Posted on Thu, Oct 09, 2008 07:43
Doctors have long known that stress hormones such as cortisol, epinephrine and norepinephrine that are raised by grief can take a damaging toll on the body. But there may be other forces at play as well. Research shows that in some cases, one persons heartbeat can affect, even regulate, anothers, possibly acting as a type of life support. In one such study, Rollin McCraty, research director at the Institute of HeartMath in Boulder Creek, Calif., looked at what happened to six longtime couples hearts while they slept. Heart-rate monitors revealed that during the night, as the couple slept beside each other, their heart rhythms fell into sync, rising and falling at the same time. When the printouts of their EKGs were placed on top of each other, they looked virtually the same. Quote: When people are in a relationship for 20, 30, 40, 50 years, they create sort of a co-energetic resonance with each other, says Lipsenthal, who is the past director of Dr. Dean Ornishs Preventative Medicine Research Institute in Sausalito, Calif. (Quote): A simple analogy is two tuning forks, put next to each other. They create a co-resonant pitch. What happens when two people sleep together for 50 years? What happens when one goes away? In recent years, another condition has come to light: Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, also known as Broken Heart Syndrome. The condition nearly always follows a traumatic emotional loss, such as death of a spouse, parent or child and it primarily affects women. It causes chest pain and sudden heart failure, believed to be brought on by a surge of fight or flight hormones, says Dr. Barbara Messinger-Rapport, a geriatrician at the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio. Patients with the condition tend to recover faster than most other heart patients, says Messinger-Rapport. And if they survive the initial bout, it almost never recurs. Is it possible to die of a broken heart? says Wechkin. Absolutely.
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Bambi's Last Run??? Posted on Mon, Oct 06, 2008 09:36
An emphatic NO. Although I thought so for a while. As I have posted on here previously, this Summer I bought an RV - a motor home which I have named (because I name stuff - boat people tend to be like that) HATARI. At the time I bought it I was certain I would have to sell either the New Jeep or Bambi to make the dollar$ coming in wrap around the amount needed to go out. At first it was going to be the Red Jeep - which would have broken my Heart - and then I thought maybe it should be Bambi. Which I then realized would mean breaking my Soul. So - through some creative actions (legal!!!) taken in the days immediately prior to the Current Financial Whatchyamacallit, I have managed to establish things in a way that, for now and the immediate future, at least, Bambi still belongs to DT. Now, for the record, I bought Bambi while living in Oklahoma City, from the HD dealer in Albuquerque, and the bike was delivered to me in OK in a trailer. Since that time, every mile Bambi has travelled has been on her own two wheels, with my butt in the saddle. In other words - she's never been trailered. Not to Colorado, not any of the numerous trips to Texas and New Mexico, not to South Dakota and Wyoming, and not to Utah. Right now I am checking out devices to mount on Hatari's back end with which to hoist Bambi up snugly (and safely) to the motorhome's fantail and still be able to tow a Jeep in line astern. All this is in preparation for retirement, which gets further off into the future every day. :^) My question is - if I haul Bambi hoisted - more or less aboard - the motor home - is that as degrading as putting her on a trailer? DT
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For One As Yet UnNamed Posted on Mon, Oct 13, 2008 09:39
Love is such a fragile thing. It always is; it never was. It's self-assured, misunderstood. It wants to be an anchor but resents the chain. It takes liberties while vowing to stay true. It exaggerates while feigning chaste demureness. It drives when it should walk, leaps when it should crawl, and flies without a single lesson. It pretends when isn't, doesn't know when is. It pleasures me, ignores another. It insults me and curtsies to one just behind. Love is real while being false. It waltzes by, never turns while turning, turning on itself. It is alive and dead, revived, and lives again. It is granted to those who wait. Perhaps. It is wishes, dreams, sometimes even actuality. It is a supernova streaking while being only superficial. Officially it's meant to bind. But will not do so without help. It can save you, enslave you . . . but never from yourself. Love, the beginning of the end, the end as a beginning. Written by, . . . You know. :^) DT
When They've Finished . . . Posted on Wed, Oct 01, 2008 09:48
I heard this on the radio last Sunday morning - it touched something deep within me. Maybe because I have always felt there is a bond between those who ride Motorcycles - and those who came before. Though you're not exactly blue, Yet you don't feel like you do In the winter, or the long hot summer days. For your feelin's and the weather Seem to sort of go together, And you're quiet in the dreamy autumn haze. When the last big steer is goaded Down the chute, and safely loaded; And the summer crew has ceased to hit the ball; When a fellow starts to draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon When they've finished shipping cattle in the fall. Only two men left a standin' On the job for winter brandin', And your pardner, he's a loafing by your side. With a bran-new saddle creakin', But you never hear him speakin', And you feel it's goin' to be a quiet ride. But you savvy one another For you know him like a brother He is friendly but he's quiet, that is all; For he' thinkin' while he's draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon When they've finished shippin' cattle in the fall. And the saddle hosses stringin' At an easy walk a swingin' In behind the old chuck wagon movin' slow. They are weary gaunt and jaded With the mud and brush they've waded, And they settled down to business long ago. Not a hoss is feelin' sporty, Not a hoss is actin' snorty; In the spring the brutes was full of buck and bawl; But they 're gentle, when they're draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon When they've finished shippin' cattle in the fall. And the cook leads the retreat Perched high upon his wagon seat, With his hat pulled 'way down furr'wd on his head. Used to make that old team hustle, Now he hardly moves a muscle, And a feller might imagine he was dead, 'Cept his old cob pipe is smokin' As he lets his team go pokin', Hittin' all the humps and hollers in the road. No, the cook has not been drinkin'? He's just settin' there and thinkin' 'Bout the places and the people that he knowed And you watch the dust a trailin' And two little clouds a sailin', And a big mirage like lakes and timber tall. And you're lonesome when you're draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon When they've finished shippin' cattle in the fall. When you make the camp that night, Though the fire is burnin' bright, Yet nobody seems to have a lot to say, In the spring you sung and hollered, Now you git your supper swallered And you crawl into your blankets right away. Then you watch the stars a shinin' Up there in the soft blue linin' And you sniff the frosty night air clear and cool. You can hear the night hoss shiftin' As your memory starts driftin' To the little village where you went to school. With its narrow gravel streets And the kids you used to meet, And the common where you used to play baseball. Now you're far away and draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon For they've finished shippin' cattle in the fall. And your school-boy sweetheart too, With her eyes of honest blue? Best performer in the old home talent show. You were nothin' but a kid But you liked her, sure you did Lord! And that was over thirty years ago. Then your memory starts to roam From Old Mexico to Nome. From the Rio Grande to the Powder River, Of the things you seen and done Some of them was lots of fun And a lot of other things they make you shiver. 'Bout that boy by name of Reid That was killed in a stampede 'Twas away up north, you helped 'em dig his grave, And your old friend Jim the boss That got tangled with a hoss, And the fellers couldn't reach in time to save. You was there when Ed got his'n Boy that killed him's still in prison, And old Lucky George, he's rich and livin' high. Poor old Tom, he come off worst, Got his leg broke, died of thirst Lord but that must be an awful way to die. Then them winters at the ranches, And the old time country dances? Everybody there was sociable and gay. Used to lead 'em down the middle Jest a prancin' to the fiddle Never thought of goin' home till the break of day. No! there ain't no chance for sleepin', For the memories come a creepin', And sometimes you think you hear the voices call; When a feller starts a draggin' To the home ranch with the wagon When they've finished shippin' cattle in the fall. Bruce Kiskaddon From the 1924 version of Rhymes of the Ranges.
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DT gets Serious for a moment. Posted on Sat, Sep 13, 2008 08:42
I woke up this morning from a really bad dream - I had gone back to sleep on the couch with the Weather Channel on. OMG. The people being battered by Hurricanes (and even if you evacuate, your life is still being battered) have to be in great need of many many things. Not the least of which is moral and morale support. My heart goes out to all - on our coast and the people of Cuba, Haiti/Dominica and all the islands in the Caribbean. They can't pack their bags and drive to Dallas to escape. At the risk of sounding like a Holy Roller Preacher (I do come from that stock) I hope everyone will pray - in their own way - for everyone affected by these storms. Prayer works, Folks. It really, really does. DT
Don't Come Lookin Again Posted on Thu, Sep 11, 2008 08:38
Swamp Witch Black water Hattie lived back in the swamp Where the strange green reptiles crawl Snakes hang thick from the cypress trees Like sausage on a smokehouse wall Where the swamp is alive with a thousand eyes An' all of them watching you Stay off the track to Hattie's Shack in the back of the Black Bayou Way up the road from Hattie's Shack Lies a sleepy little Okeechobee town Talk of swamp witch Hattie lock you in when the sun go down Rumours of what she'd done, rumours of what she'd do Kept folks off the track of Hattie's shack In the back of the Black Bayou One day brought the rain and the rain stayed on And the swamp water overflowed 'skeeters and the fever grabbed the town like a fist Doctor Jackson was the first to go Some say the plague was brought by Hattie There was talk of a hang'n too But the talk got shackled by the howls and the cackles From the bowels of the Black bayou Early one morn 'tween dark and dawn when shadows filled the sky There came an unseen caller on a town where road run dry You'd swear there was found a big black round Vat full of gurgling brew Whispering sounds as the folk gathered round "It came from the Black Bayou" There ain't much pride when you're trapped inside A slowly sink'n ship Scooped up the liquid deep and green And the whole town took a sip Fever went away and the very next day the skies again were blue Let's thank old hattie for sav'n our town We'll fetch her from the Black Bayou Party of ten of the town's best men headed for Hattie's Shack Said Swamp Witch magic was useful and good And they're gonna bring hattie back Never found Hattie and they never found the shack Never made the trip back in There was a parchment note they found tacked to a stump Said don't come look'n again Jim Stafford, who is only 2 years younger than your Friendly DTDJ, was born in 1944. Swamp Witch, which was his first hit, hit the charts in 1974. DT
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One Step Ahead of the Law Posted on Fri, Sep 05, 2008 11:21
Now the Street Folks called em Chance and the Dancer Just the Slickest Team Around; But the High Sherrif done got hip to their trip And they were out to put him down. So she threw on this sexy dress And she trucked to the Drinkin Store; And while the Drinkers were starin At what she was wearin Chance walked thru the Door. Oh Lawd Mercy Me!! Wait till You See what I Saw; Oh Lawd Mercy Me!! Just one step ahead of the Law. Chance gave the Sign And She Knew it was Time Cause Theyd Done it all Before; So She Began to Shakin and movin and makin Her Way to the Dancin Floor; Now Chance slipped a Quarter to the Ole Juke Box And all the Dudes began to Clap; Its True You can catch the Big Ones Honey If You know how to Bait The Trap. Her Body Started doing some Amazing Things As the Crowd Jumped to their Feet; And Chance? He just picked that room full of pockets And Slipped Right out to the Street Pretty Neat!!! Oh No Mercy Me!! Wait till You See what I Saw; Oh No Mercy Me!! Just one step ahead of the Law. When the crowd caught on all their money was gone They started One Hell of a Fight; Cause all they could find was a sexy dress, See the Lady done slipped outa sight; She met Chance out Back with the Cadillac Now theyre headed for YOUR Town; You Better Glue Yore Money To your Blue Jeans Honey When Chance and The Dancer Get Down. Singin Oh No Mercy Me!! I Still Dont Believe what I Saw; Oh No Mercy Me!! Just one step ahead of the Law. Oh No Mercy Me!! Wait till You See what I Saw; Oh No Mercy Me!! Just one step ahead of the Law. Jim Stafford (of course) :^) DT
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Olympics? TV? Posted on Sun, Aug 31, 2008 17:31
There are other sports at the Summer Olympics besides Women's Beach Volleyball? I have no idea - but apparently the following words were spoken on live TV regarding several different venues: 1. Paul Hamm, Gymnast: 'I owe a lot to my parents, especially my mother and father.' 2. Boxing Analyst: 'Sure there have been injuries, and even some deaths in boxing, but none of them really that serious.' 3. Weightlifting Commentator: 'This is Gregoriava from Bulgaria . I saw her snatch this morning during her warm up and it was amazing.' 4. Dressage commentator: 'This is really a lovely horse and I speak from personal experience since I once mounted her mother.' 5. Softball announcer: 'If history repeats itself, I should think we can expect the same thing again.' 6. Basketball analyst: 'He dribbles a lot and the opposition doesn't like it. In fact you can see it all over their faces.' 7. At the rowing medal ceremony: 'Ah, isn't that nice, the wife of the IOC president is hugging the Cox of the British crew.' 8. Soccer commentator: 'Julian Dicks is everywhere. It's like they've got eleven Dicks on the field.' 9. Tennis commentator: 'One of the reasons Andy is playing so well is that, before the final round, his wife takes out his balls and kisses them... Oh my God, what have I just said?' DT
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TwentySomethings Posted on Thu, Aug 21, 2008 13:16
I have not the faintest idea what I might ever have in common with any 21 year old female on planet. That includes 21 year old females on Biker Kiss, other than Motorcycles and the fact that we are of the same species. Although, the more I see these days the less sure I am of the same species part. Now, it is certainly an ego stroke for a 65 year old guy to be approached by a 20 something - - - at least it is for this 65 year old ? but there is also the rational thought? WHY? Or WTF??? Well, I wouldd like to give my official announcement that I would prefer that no more 21 year old BK females who live in Utah but just happen to be stranded in some foreign country contact me with offers of love and marriage. I just bought a motor home and I flat do not have the money to pay your air fare from Bumfuck, Egypt (or wherever) to Salt Lake City. And if I did have the money, I wouldn?t send it to you. I mean, I am sure you are sincere, and really look like your photos and you really have fallen in love with me from looking at my profile on BK. No doubts in my Military Mind. But you are too damn young for me. So, send the naked pictures to DemoMan and the bills for your airfare to OldHarleyLover, Okay? DT
175 Years Old Posted on Tue, Aug 19, 2008 14:04
A long time ago, in an Oklahoma far far away (from Utah) I was stationed at a small Naval Activity a long, long way from the nearest ocean. One of my "shipmates" (called that, even on "shore duty" - sure as hell not gonna call anyone a "shore-mate"!!!) was an Oklahoma Native Son doing his "Twilight Tour" (last tour of duty before he retired). He was a very nice guy, very generous. He did have a habit of exaggerated exaggeration. He would bring a basket of tomatoes grown on his Mother's farm "down the road a'piece" the smallest of which were the size of cantelouopes - the largest - the size of dwarf watermelons. These were brought in for the crew to share - take home, whatever. When someone would say, "My god those are big tomatoes," he would say, "Ah them's the little'uns." Well, that was okay. They were damn good tomatoes. He had another habit, which, after some months, become somewhat irritating. Every time someone would mention something, he had done it. Say, "My Dad drove a dump truck..." this sailor (let's call him Jerry cause that wasn't his name) Jerry would say, "I used to drive a dump truck for the Santa Fe Railroad." Mention a bartender, Jerry would say, "You know, Bartendin's one of the most fun jobs I ever had." It got to where people would plan conversations to mention some job or hobby or another, to see what story Jerry would tell about it. In addition to being a Sailor for 20 years, Jerry had driven the above dump truck, been a bartender, soda jerk, policeman, detective, FBI agent, driven race cars on the track at Neuremburg, raced motorcycles for "Harley Davis," and invented Polaroid Cameras for Mr. Land. Among other things. A common joke was that to have done everything he claimed to have done Jerry (who was in his late 30's at the time) would have to be about 125 years old. What got me to thinking about Jerry was, I was looking over my resume the other day, and thinking about all the jobs that I have held which are NOT on my resume. I got my first job when I was 12 - sweeping classrooms after school at Washington Avenue Elementary School in Roswell, New Mexico, circa 1955. I've lived a long time since then, and have worked a lot of places. I had a whole slug of jobs before I went into the Navy and, during my 21 years in the Nav, I had a slew of part time (and some not-so-part-time) jobs - which, amazingly, included cop, detective and bartender, among several others. So, I guess, when I talk about having been a DJ, or driving a fork lift, counting money on Sunday nights for Feed the Children, or tying down cargo aboard airplanes, people may very well say the same thing about me that we used to say about Jerry - - - only in my case, they probably say I must be at least 175 years old. DT
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DJDT Posted on Mon, Aug 18, 2008 07:26
I don't sing 'em, I spin 'em. I actually was a DJ at one time - while in High School, my Junior Year, I worked at a daylight hours only AM station, after school and on Sundays. KSRC Radio Socorro, New Mexico. My Burdgeoning Career in Showbiz ended when my family moved to Oklahoma City. Jim Stafford hadn't shown up yet, in 1959; if he had, you could bet I would have played his crazy stuff. Like: I remember when Mary Lou said "You wanna walk me home from school" And I said, "Yes, I do" She said, "I don't have to go right home And I'm the kind that likes to be alone As long as you would" I said, "Me, too" And so we took a stroll Wound up down by the swimmin' hole And she said, "Do what you want to do" I got silly and I found a frog In the water by a hollow log And I shook it at her And I said "This frog's for you" And She said, "I don't like spiders and snakes And that ain't what it takes to love me You fool, you fool I don't like spiders and snakes And that ain't what it takes to love me Like I want to be loved by you" Well, I think of that girl from time to time I call her up when I got a dime I say, "Hello, baby" She says, "Ain't you cool" I say, "Do you remember when" And, "Would you like to get together again" She says, "I'll see you after school" I was shy and so for a while Most of my love was touch and smile Til she said, "Come on over here" I was nervous as you might guess Still looking for somethin' to slip down her dress And she said, "Let's make it perfectly clear" She said, "I don't like spiders and snakes And that ain't what it takes to love me You fool, you fool I don't like spiders and snakes And that ain't what it takes to love me Like I want to be loved by you" You gotta admit, nobody writes song like that anymore. DT
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A little lite music please Posted on Wed, Jul 30, 2008 13:25
I said yeah yeah No no no no no no Now listen to me My wife ran off with the garbage man My wife ran off with the garbage man Now I don't miss that woman But somebody gotta empty my can. Now let me tell you what happened I came home the other night Caught the two of you alone And you told me he was a nudist Who came in to use the phone. Well I come from Alabama baby And I got this banjo on my knee Now you know I love to pick the banjo Why does the whole wide world gotta pick on me? Listen to this honey I'm gon' to take him over to my place I'm gonna stomp on his head I'm gon' kill him so bad He gonna wish he was dead Then I'm gonna mess with YOU baby Now let me tell you what I'm gonna do I'm gonna take you to a secret place Where I got a vat full of dippity doo Sixteen little red noses and a horse that sweats Gonna dip you in that dippity doo Tie a rubber band around my fanny And run around you screamin' like I'm an airplane And make me take off Cause I love you baby oh Love you pretty Momma Yeah I love yeah yeah yeah No no no no no Yeah Damn I love the 70's. That was Jim Stafford, 16 little red noses and a horse that sweats. Eat your heart out, Tobey Keith. DT
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Robert Service I Posted on Tue, Jul 15, 2008 13:40
Unforgotten I know a garden where the lilies gleam, And one who lingers in the sunshine there; She is than white-stoled lily far more fair, And oh, her eyes are heaven-lit with dream! I know a garret, cold and dark and drear, And one who toils and toils with tireless pen, Until his brave, sad eyes grow weary -- then He seeks the stars, pale, silent as a seer. And ah, it's strange; for, desolate and dim, Between these two there rolls an ocean wide; Yet he is in the garden by her side And she is in the garret there with him.