Sammy, it's a generous offer. But I'm quite content talking drivel over here.
'The best definition for me is FXH 's . You know you Are an iGent when you don't buy anything you pull the trigger.'
I haven't noticed the term recently but it always used to annoy me up when someone used it.
Robbie, could you make sense of it? I couldn't.
They are very keen to nab you AFS. Don't let them get you on a free transfer. Demand a signing-on fee.
They could bribe you with fine liqueurs, buxom maidens and a pair of deadstock Florsheim Imperials. Reckon that'd do it.
Never has the phrase be careful what you wish for been more apt.
In reference to Sammy's futile begging for you to be unfaithful to TI.
Oh, right, thanks. What would be gained from my appearing there? Nothing. One is, after all, running short on anything much to say on the subject of Ivy League... Does a decent jazz forum exist, do you know?
Not that I know of but it's probable at least one does.
You could probably get more arguments discussing jazz than Ivy League. My father would 'debate' for hours, face to face or on the 'phone, with a guy who simply dismissed anything not out of New Orleans out of hand. The old boy had broad tastes, that ran from Kid Ory to Roland Kirk. The other guy would have none of it.
They're still rabbiting about abortion in South Carolina over on DW. The best thing for them to do is organize a petition and send it to the delightful Ms.Harris. That ought to warm the cockles of her heart, knowing chaps who wear cotton underpants have those gals best interests at heart.
Meanwhile - albeit not on 'Talk Ivy' - we do have a little conversation going about Boris Jackson and his full head of hair which anyone can join. If you catch my drift.
The poster is also keen on socks, which might grab Shooey's attention.
I'd never heard of it so had to look it up. DW certainly doesn't possess the intellectual flair of the old New Statesman or Spectator (though the latter went off the boil by around 1990, when the likes of Julie Burchill began filling its pages with their tripe). For truly elegant writing, gentlemen all, try the late Alan Watkins for size, his 'Brief Lives' being something the likes of our poster Horace might enjoy dipping into. Watkins was an old-fashioned Labour man whose friendships spread across a wide spectrum, from Maurice Richardson to Auberon Waugh.
In the words of PJ Murrihy :-
‘I drove Morris Minor back in 1964,
And I’ve danced in every ballroom from Salthill to Templemore,
Lisdoonvarna here I come,
There’s life in the old dog yet!’
Held my nose and had a look over at DW. Are they all dead or just snoozing? 'Ivy Club', perhaps in tribute to Groucho Marx, appears to have no members.
Gnash, gnash... That's the sound of me eschewing some old tosh the Artist Formerly Known As Woofboxer (now Barfing Pug) is reading.
Seriously, he makes a fair point or two about discussions over here.
DW members certainly have nothing to be smug about (although smugness would appear to be very much their raison d'etre). Not much life in their dog (it barely wags its tail) and, as TRS says, their 'Ivy Club' is scarcely Jumping At The Savoy.
A good deal more 'Putting The World To Rights' AKA 'Posturing Ponce Territory'.
Come on, boys, let your hair down...
I tend to lurk on DW, not many clothing posts, but as you say "A good deal more 'Putting The World To Rights".
Oh, I do plenty of lurking, just to see what those buggers have to say for themselves. The poster who calls himself 'Pimpernel Smith' isn't a bad lad and still enjoys his music. Still a Buzz Rickson devotee, too, I see. As for the rest... blech...
That pugilist must really be barking...
Or does he come from there?
Wurzel, I thought...
'Oh, I do plenty of lurking, just to see what those buggers have to say for themselves. The poster who calls himself 'Pimpernel Smith' isn't a bad lad and still enjoys his music. Still a Buzz Rickson devotee, too, I see. As for the rest... blech...'
Hi
Hi Streetlight
Last edited by Runninggeez (2022-07-13 08:45:25)