Your Favourite things

Dello wrote:

furriner wrote:The flow of aquamarine green on a mountain river.

This thread has certainly brought out the pretentious side in everyone...

And I thought I was being poetic.

Great Dane

Bull Dog

Cocker Spaniel

Bloodhound Pup

eowyn wrote:Bumble bees.

Nasty fookers...

Zimmys avatar

Has anyone mentioned Tandoori Chicken yet? One of the few things that's keeping me from turning into a vegetarian. But it has to be well made, not masala smeared and slapped into the tandoor stuff, that's made in most places.

Bed.

William Barnes and AE Housman

a steak or two cut thick (like embee) from a (sacred cow) and tossed on the scalding hot baerby hotplate

Brass Monkey wrote:Twin lesbians. Not much tops that.

I knew a pair of lesbian twins - weighed about 300 kilos between the two of them and looked just like their father. I found them positively frightening, but to each his own...

mynah wrote:

Brass Monkey wrote:Twin lesbians. Not much tops that.

I knew a pair of lesbian twins - weighed about 300 kilos between the two of them and looked just like their father. I found them positively frightening, but to each his own...

You don't see much of your family these days?

doremi wrote:Has anyone mentioned Tandoori Chicken yet? One of the few things that's keeping me from turning into a vegetarian. But it has to be well made, not masala smeared and slapped into the tandoor stuff, that's made in most places.

Reminds me. Butter chicken, dal makhani and naan anywhere on the GT road at night. On a charpoy.

Mmmmmmmm, butter chicken . . . . the one good thing about subis

JKLever wrote:

eowyn wrote:Bumble bees.

Nasty fookers...

Bumble Bees are big and fat and rather cute, wasps is nasty booogers.

I have been so great a lover: filled my days
So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,
The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,
Desire illimitable, and still content,
And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,
For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear
Our hearts at random down the dark of life.
Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife
Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,
My night shall be remembered for a star
That outshone all the suns of all men's days.
Shall I not crown them with immortal praise
Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me
High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see
The inenarrable godhead of delight?
Love is a flame; -- - we have beaconed the world's night.
A city: -- - and we have built it, these and I.
An emperor: -- - we have taught the world to die.
So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,
And the high cause of Love's magnificence,
And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names
Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,
And set them as a banner, that men may know,
To dare the generations, burn, and blow
Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming. . . .
These I have loved:
White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, færy dust;
Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;
And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
The good smell of old clothes; and other such -- -
The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
About dead leaves and last year's ferns. . . .
Dear names,
And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;
Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;
Holes in the ground; and voices that do sing;
Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;
Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;
And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass; -- -
All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
Whatever passes not, in the great hour,
Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power
To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,
Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
And sacramented covenant to the dust.
---- Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,
And give what's left of love again, and make
New friends, now strangers. . . .
But the best I've known,
Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
Of living men, and dies.
Nothing remains.

O dear my loves, O faithless, once again
This one last gift I give: that after men
Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
Praise you, "All these were lovely"; say, "He loved."

Eek, tails has morphed into Vikas.

Get ****ed, skully. Vicky wouldn't know real poetry if Rupert Brooke chained him to a wall and read it to him 24 hours a day.

I was going to say how beautiful, then you swore and ruined the moment............

freddled gruntbuggly wrote: Vicky wouldn't know real poetry comedy if Rupert Brooke Jerry Seinfeld chained him to a wall and read it to him 24 hours a day.

Fixed

eowyn wrote:I was going to say how beautiful, then you swore and ruined the moment............

Poetry is just a facade, she is ugly inside.

freddled gruntbuggly wrote:Get ****ed, skully. Vicky wouldn't know real poetry if Rupert Brooke chained him to a wall and read it to him 24 hours a day.

Unfortunately, nor would Rupert Brooke . . .

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA

If I should die (you did, mofo, from an infected mosquito bite), think only this of me/
That there's some corner of a foreign field/
That is forever England (It's Greece, mofo, and they're probably building a resort over your grave now)

Dunkin Doughnuts! Krispy Kreme!

Anniyan wrote:Dunkin Doughnuts! Krispy Kreme!

Kenny Rogers' Gambler is my gambling theme... Mixmaster Mike with tha scratch routine...