Baley

Edgard Varese - Poeme

'He's not even the best drummer in The Beatles!' Happy Birthday, Mr. Starkey!

There's honour in numbers they say And I realise this makes no sense And trust me I'd like it to make sense I really would Each morning when I take a piss And look in the mirror And see the same old mug Smiling at the same old schmuck In the same old clothes I'd like it to make sense So I could take my piss In peace And walk away.

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Social Distortion - Footprints On My Ceiling

There's this Swedish girl I've always wanted to write about I've never met her, saw her picture once on an internet nerd forum Her boyfriend posted it, God, I hope she doesn't know Bout all the seed them virgins spewed all over it. I'm looking at you, Kirottu.

I met a man named Anderson Who talks on street corners bout God and Salvation With such honesty you're forced to believe Just for a second.

Modest Mouse - Jesus Christ Was An Only Child

Spider Man was a pretty good chap Spinning webs and saving old bitches Named Anna Jane Mae. Peter Parker had been dead for ages Some street Punk named Al finally whacked him No funeral. Spider Man was a diseased bastard Something in the head Couldn't breath. Peter Parker Dead Decomposing. Spider Man needed some Java Had a neck the size of Manhattan Swollen and Proud. Peter Parker Still dead Tragedy. Spider Man looking down at some Grave No Headstone Drank his Java. Peter Parker Dead. Coffee Kills.

Happy Birthday, Petay. Listen to this: Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee - Hooray These Women Are Killing Me Brotha Lynch Hung - RIP Organized Konfusion - Stress Mclusky - She Will Only Bring You Happiness Helen Humes with Sonny Terry, Brownie McGhee, Willie Dixon, T-Bone Walker and Memphis Slim And who could forget the One Hoff: David Hasselhoff - Jump In My Car. Cheers.

Well, Predseda in Pravom lasky was pretty much his best role. He just reeked there-ness. It's hard to put it into words. Have you seen Umberto D? Intense. Losing him was a real shame. One of the finest actors to ever hit a stage.

I'm sure you're all aware that today, July 5th, is Tynwald Day, the National Day of the Isle of Man. So I beg of you to join me in this most holy celebration and sing the National Anthem. Together. As one Voice. As one Soul. ♫ O land of our birth, O gem of God's earth, O Island so strong and so fair; Built firm as Barrule, Thy Throne of Home Rule Make us free as thy sweet mountain air. When Orry, the Dane, In Mannin did reign, 'Twas said he had come from above; For wisdom from Heav'n To him had been giv'n To rule us with justice and love. Our fathers have told How Saints came of old, Proclaiming the Gospel of Peace; That sinful desires, Like false Baal fires, Must die ere our troubles can cease. Ye sons of the soil, In hardship and toil, That plough both the land and the sea, Take heart while you can, And think of the Man Who toiled by the Lake Galilee. When fierce tempests smote That frail little boat, They ceased at His gentle command; Despite all our fear, The Saviour is near To safeguard our dear Fatherland. Let storm-winds rejoice, And lift up their voice, No danger our homes can befall; Our green hills and rocks Encircle our flocks, And keep out the sea like a wall. Our Island, thus blest, No foe can molest; Our grain and our fish shall increase; From battle and sword Protecteth the Lord, And crowneth our nation with peace. Then let us rejoice With heart, soul and voice, And in The Lord's promise confide; That each single hour We trust in His power, No evil our souls can betide. ♫* *In Manx: ♫ O Halloo nyn ghooie, O' Ch'liegeen ny s'bwaaie Ry gheddyn er ooir aalin Yee, Ta dt' Ardstoyl Reill Thie Myr Barrool er ny hoie Dy reayl shin ayns seyrsnys as shee. Tra Gorree yn Dane Haink er traie ec y Lhane Son Ree Mannin v'eh er ny reih 'S va creenaght veih Heose Er ny chur huggey neose Dy reill harrin lesh cairys as graih Ren nyn ayryn g'imraa Va Nooghyn shenn traa Yn Sushtal dy Hee fockley magh Shegin yeearree peccoil Myr far aileyn Vaal, Ve er ny chur mow son dy bragh. Vec ooasle yn Theihll Ayns creoighys tooilleil Ta traaue ooir as faarkey, Gow cree Ny jarrood yn fer mie Ta coadey 'n lught-thie Ren tooilleil liorish Logh Galilee. D'eiyr yn sterrm noon as noal Yn baatey beg moal Fo-harey hug Eh geay as keayn Trooid ooilley nyn ghaue Ta'n Saualtagh ec laue Dy choadey nyn Vannin veg veen. Lhig dorrinyn bra Troggal seose nyn goraa As brishey magh ayns ard arrane Ta nyn groink aalin glass Yn vooir cummal ass As coadey lught-thie as shioltane. Nyn Ellan fo-hee Cha boir noidyn ee Dy bishee nyn eeastyn as grain Nee'n Chiarn shin y reayll Voish strieughyn yn theihll As crooinnagh lesh shee 'n ashoon ain. Lhig dooin boggoil bee, Lesh annym as cree, As croghey er gialdyn yn Chiarn; Dy vodmayd dagh oor, Treish teil er e phooar, Dagh olk ass nyn anmeenyn 'hayrn. ♫ Gura mie ayd!

You mean most women don't like filth and sloth and dance around naked in the middle of your flat high on coke stripping as if a fire was to purify your home in mere seconds? Oh God, how I hate 'em.

That living room of yours is way too clean, tidy and hygienic. It reeks of married. Honestly. I doubt most birds fancy that.

I can picture your flat.

Pedersen, love, I'm sort of drunk and have only managed to read a small portion of A Panegyric Upon Abraham. I'd prefer posting my opinion on this book once I finish it. As for my own view, I'd state that the spiritual world exists outside the realm of logic (perhaps even outside the realm of reality) and that analysing it is most often pointless and a terrible waste of time. It ain't supposed to make sense. That's where "faith" comes in, filling the gaps and healing the wounds. Of course now, there's nothing out there to heal faith. Shame bout that.

Well, P, I've yet to drink a book. What should you be reading?

Ah, yes, I make a habit of only reading Kierkegaard when partly intoxicated. In fact, I still have a beer bottle lying around somewhere. It's not very good. Though that's not why I drink it.

Knock 'em out the box Chris, knock 'em out!

There's only one "z" in "Lizards".

This morning?