plz delete

[TightEnd]

Bobby1 is staying with the Vladars.....he fires up badgirl's PC, logs onto blonde and posts away.

Some time later he comes back and notices one of his favourite bands, Prefab Sprout, is being mentioned.

In his excitement he responds to said post under badgirl's ID


It tickles me to imagine badgirl in the 1980s loving Prefab Sprout!!

[The_nun]

I am a dreamer but when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.

[thetank]

Any room for Kipling?

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


Written without CTRL+V because I enjoy it so much.

[thetank]

This thread is worth £5 by itself.

Now I have 23 hrs 24 minutes to make up the other £18.50 and we'll have value.

[steeley68]

I wondered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high, o'er vale and hill
When all at once, I saw a crowd -
A host of golden daffodill.

From memory.

[bobby1]

I wish I could fly, right up to the sky but I cant.......

[tikay]

Bobby1 is staying with the Vladars.....he fires up badgirl's PC, logs onto blonde and posts away.

Some time later he comes back and notices one of his favourite bands, Prefab Sprout, is being mentioned.

In his excitement he responds to said post under badgirl's ID


It tickles me to imagine badgirl in the 1980s loving Prefab Sprout!!

NOW it makes a lot more sense. Why did I not think of that? Bad Girl & Prefab Sprout WOULD be an odd combo......

I blame that bobby.

Mind you, it's sort of in keeping with the thread.

[bobby1]

It amused Tighty and i for hours too.

[tikay]

I got a ticket to the Moon,

I'm gonna go there very soon,

And the tears I cry will fall as rain,

On your window pane.

[tikay]

It amused Tighty and i for hours too.

Yup, you whooshed me good & proper. You'll pay, both of you.

[RED-DOG]

A chance to re-hash this

If you can keep your chips when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
If you can bet your trips when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their betting too
If you can wait and not get tired of waiting
Or be outdrawn and yet not go on tilt
Or being hated dont give way to hating
While trying to protect the stack youve built

If you can draw, yet not make draws your master
If you can bluff, but not make bluff your aim
If you can play with Hellmuth or with Hansen
And treat those two imposters just the same
If you can bear to hear the truth youve spoken
Twisted by hacks to make a trap for fools
Or see your pocket aces cracked and broken
Then take abuse from folk who break the rules

If you can bet a pot with all your bankroll
If you can hit your set and risk it all
And lose your wedge to someones gutshot straight draw
And bite your lip and say to him nice call
If you can forgive the calling stations
Who take the pot you know you should have won
Well then one day you might become a player
And, which is more, youll be a man, my son.

[bobby1]

A chance to re-hash this

If you can keep your chips when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
If you can bet your trips when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their betting too
If you can wait and not get tired of waiting
Or be outdrawn and yet not go on tilt
Or being hated dont give way to hating
While trying to protect the stack youve built

If you can draw, yet not make draws your master
If you can bluff, but not make bluff your aim
If you can play with Hellmuth or with Hansen
And treat those two imposters just the same
If you can bear to hear the truth youve spoken
Twisted by hacks to make a trap for fools
Or see your pocket aces cracked and broken
Then take abuse from folk who break the rules

If you can bet a pot with all your bankroll
If you can hit your set and risk it all
And lose your wedge to someones gutshot straight draw
And bite your lip and say to him nice call
If you can forgive the calling stations
Who take the pot you know you should have won
Well then one day you might become a player
And, which is more, youll be a man, my son.

superb Tom.

[tikay]

The very same Tom who is yet again killing (pardon the pun) the Laddies Graveyard Special.

[RED-DOG]

The very same Tom who is yet again killing (pardon the pun) the Laddies Graveyard Special.

I was, I raised with KK and was called by 92, two on the board dented me badly but I'm clawing back

[fergus8]

Disabled

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim
Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands.
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now, he is old; his back will never brace;
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.

One time he liked a blood-smear down his leg,
After the matches, carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he'd drunk a peg,
He thought he'd better join.-He wonders why.
Someone had said he'd look a god in kilts,
That's why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts
He asked to join. He didn't have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie: aged nineteen years.
Germans he scarcely thought of; all their guilt,
And Austria's, did not move him. And no fears
Of Fear came yet. He thought of jewelled hilts
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.
And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.

Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then inquired about his soul.

Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don't they come
And put him into bed? Why don't they come?

Wilfred Owen