Just had a carrier pigeon in me window with the following:
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah -
Brothers, sisters, one day well all be free
From fighting; violence; people crying in the street
When the angels from above
Fall down and spread their wings like doves
We'll walk hand in hand
Sisters, brothers, well make it to the promised land
You and I
We'll walk the land
And as one, and as one
Well take our stand
When the angels from above
Fall down and spread their wings like doves
We'll walk hand in hand
Sisters, brothers, well make it to the promised land."
He then goes on to say that he's off to Tennessee for a fancy dress party & can I look after the pigeon & call him Allen due to the fact that he tends to crap on anything that's nice.
I've never smelled Calvados on a pigeon's breath before...
And I pray God I never shall again.
te.
Last edited by Terry Lean (2006-12-22 07:46:28)
I'm not getting on at all well with this pigeon.
He's as bad as that little dog I used to have, the one that got run over.
I wish he'd come back now and this blasted bird would buzz off.
Ahhhh Life!
I might be in the minority, but I sort of like some of his style. I do concur with a rather sharp friend who pointed it out, that the guy should know how to word an invitation. It ain't too comme il faut to have to ask, is it?
Being reasonable and sensible, eh?
You know I have no powers to fight those deadly forces.
Back under my bridge I go with my little pet pigeon to mutter to myself...
Yeah, I know judd what you mean - Harry was alright-ish wasn't he?
Who could ever have thought that things could have gotten worse?
Wherever Brother H. (Harry) is I raise a glass to him - A Player!
t.
Edit: Just to make clear which brother H. I'm toasting...
Although I suppose Horace is worth drinkng to too...
... It's a good excuse anyway...
Stan Dandy-Liver-failure...
Last edited by Terry Lean (2006-12-24 08:52:14)