/random/

he hasnt been doing so well posting so much on lambda*

Our trans-atlantic brethren of the press seem to be going a-head of us as they have brought out a paper printed on the phonotypic principle, published at "Boston," It is entitled the "Auglo-Sacsun, divoted to the difiyuzun ov nolej and nuz," 2 eny won nowing the art and misteree of typografee thee xclamazhun of our "devle" that other Merykuns had got there paper into "pie," the disignashun will apere just.

I do agree to the extent that most convalescents prefer to be cared for in a shed full of saucepans.

Somewhere over the saucepan
blue lard flies
lard flies over the batter
Why and oh why can't I
Someday I wish upon the corn
Where pebbles were born
behind me
When lemon dropped into the creamed corn
Lawnmower started to mourn

Somewhere over the saucepan
sausage jumped

AAAA!! NOT ME FROCKCOAT FAGGOT!!! GET YOUR CORN FLOUR AWAY FROM ME!!!!

When Quin was gentleman usher of the black rod he was standing one day oppposite St. James's Palace in full court costume, with sword, &c., and deliberating how he should pick his way across the muddy road and among the carriages. A strong, good humored carter, perceiving the dilemma of the diminutive courtier, caught him up in his arms to carry him across, and, in spite of Quin's kicking and struggling, landed him safely on the other side. Quin, enraged at what he considered an affront to his dignity, roundly rated the carter, who was a Scotchman, and who, catching the little beau up in his arms again, exclaimed, "Weel, then, and ye dinna like it, ye shall jest gang back again," and Quin, to his dismay, was set down where he had been taken up.

Oh! I don’t wanna lose your pan
Darling you are all that cooked in mime
let me see the wolf that is unable to hear
it was all a flippin’ fib you made


Oh! Oh! I don’t wanna lose your pan
Darling you are all that cooked in mime
let me see the brine that drips like mustard
it was all a flippin’ fib you made.





Bobby Cladwell – I Don’t Want to Lose Your Love

stop slapping that dough

with no very large portion of either wit or wisdom, but a very exalted notion of his own powers, expatiating about himself, made the following remark: — "When I happen to say a foolish thing, I always burst out laughing." — "I envy your happiness, my lord, then," said Charles Townsend, "for you must certainly live the merriest life of any man in Europe."

Soup in a cabbage, please?