Some people leave footprints on our heart.
Cats leave fur on our sweaters.
Dogs leave drool on our shoes.
Families will crap on our doorstep.
So when life gives you crap, garden it and make roses.
Happy Christmas dear Copperwitch.Christians celebrate the birth of their saviour by eating too much and then falling asleep; the next day is cricket and a new movie release.so.weird.
It's slowing down in blogland, I can tell. Christmas is upon us. Soon we will all be weighed down under the food, the sleep, the cricket and latest releases as AnnODyne suggests.Best wishes for this one.
Cat doesn't want the pear tree? I'll take it. It can live in a tub next to the other fruit trees.
Stupid outlook express won't give me any emails. The guy at the optus shop says it's because the airwaves are so full/busy this time of year. I don't believe this, not after speaking to my K who says she is with a diferent company, and several friends all with other companies, they are having no trouble at all. Most annoying.
Yowza for da seazon CW. Wishing you a good/better/best 2010.
A pear is a fruit, so are some people; Miz Panz (The Way of the Pear) will not be happy with your suggestion.
An English vicar has advised the poor to go out and steal, which is the best thing I've ever heard from a cleric. Meanwhile that same old crowd of crawlers and boot lickers -posing as atheists to get petted- are first to condemn him for it. And who's surprised. What else do you expect from cringers terrified of offending latte street, what do you get from these faux atheists anyway, these cunts, who've never had to steal to eat. Dreary no-talent bums, that's what you get. More obedient, more narrow, than any church-goer.
When I was a young bloke I went to live in Sydney, I lived in Womerah Ave Darlinghurst. Every Sunday night I went to Pitt Street and Goulburn to hear the preachers. A red-headed bloke had a caravan at the kerb with a flap in the side and he'd stand there delivering his spiel. At the end he'd say "Yes to Jesus?" holding out pamphlets. Anyone who went up and took one got approached by one of three young women to talk about Jesus. I only ever took one once, hoping to cop the good looking dame, but struck out. Christ has a sense of humour, or why would he raise the dead.
Merry Christmas to all my darlings.
A friendly christmas smooch to you.
Isn't he gorgeous Jayne? Just the right look for a Christmas Cat.Annie O, looking forward to seeing Sherlock Holmes. As for eating too much, the BrickOutHouse gave me a metre of Toblerone. I will have to use the box to measure the backside after I've finished it.Elisabeth, thanks to snow, postal strikes and everything else, my Christmas books haven't arrived from England, the fridge is slightly empty on purpose, the cricket is soporific and only a fool would go near Southland for the next 3 days. Your best wishes are tucked away with the one bauble I managed to put up.River, I am expecting a cat today but it better not bring its fleas with it. It's a 24 hour deal to escape the flea bombing and see how she takes to the house. She'll hate me for months.Check that outlook express is still your default provider.Thank you Phil, 2010 just has to be better than the last 3 years or I'll be joining the lemmings.Robbert, I don't believe in organized religion, I still have a halfway bet on God but militant atheists and militant Godbothers are flaming pests anywhere. The vicar advised them to shoplift and after that I wonder how many put money in the offering plate and took it out instead.Right back at you, HawtAndrew. When I'm clear of all this legal house rubbish, you and I will meet for coffee.
I wanted to send a message Jah-Teh to acknowledge the post that follows this one today after Christmas Day but I cannot locate an email address for you and it seems you don't want pubic comments on the post itself, which I can understand. So here's an unspoken acknowledgment of your post, cryptic as it might seem.
Sorry Elisabeth, I didn't mean to turn the comments off and my email is tucked away in my profile. I always get snivelly at Christmas, I've still got family but he was my family. I also get very nasty and hope the ex is stuck with the new missus' numerous spotty grandchildren and he's having a miserable time. There I've cheered myself up already.
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