Warning: May contain traces of soy, wheat, lecithin and tree nuts. That you are here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton.
And that you might like cheese-doodles.
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Friday, December 26, 2008
A SONG OF GRATITUDE FOR THE GIFT OF SOCKS
As per ancient minhag:
Happy Chanukah to me, Happy Chanuka to me! Happy Chanuka to all of us...... But especially, to me!
Yes.
Three pairs of socks.
I like socks.
19 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Sorry Blogmeester but...
admitting to liking socks is slightly sad - or have I mssed something?
knee or ankle?
I have running socks - they are marked L and R - just to help me reach my full potential
I also have some ankle socks from your great nation - which are very preppy and can/may/should be worn with yachting type shoes. I do not have a yacht - but I do have the clobber.
Argyle pattern? Stripes? Clocks? Hello Kitty? Lime Green? Red? Blue? Heliotrope? You can't just say you were blessed with socks and leave us all hanging!
"Warm feet today, warm feet today; We shall go rejoicing, with warm feet today!
Comfy are the feet, comfy are the feet; We shall go rejoicing, 'cause comfy are the feet!"
Thus runneth the refrain of one of the best Protestant Christian hymns. More or less. Happy tootsies are a good thing. And I am notoriously a piker as regards the purchase of socks.
Plus, the gifting of socks is a given at chanuka. It is traditional. Ancient minhag. A veritable must. According to the precepts of Queens, Flatbush, and everyone's aunt Rose who lives in Florida.
For lo, it is written: "And Eliyahu cursed the priests of Ba'al, and they were barefoot; and the people rejoiced in the victory of the warm socks brought down by the prophet of the Lord", and elsewhere it states "for the Greeks and those who listened to them were all barefoot, but Judah returned woollen footiwooties to their asigned place".
Old Lady: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, it's so nice to see such a large turnout this afternoon. And I'd like to start off by welcoming our guest speakers for this afternoon, Mr Wadsworth... Wordsworth: Wordsworth! Old Lady: Sorry, Wordsworth... Mr John Koots, and Percy Bysshe. Shelley: Shelley! Old Lady: Just a little one, medium dry, (a dwarf assistant pours her a sherry) and Alfred Lorde. Tennyson: Tennyson. Old Lady: Tennis ball. Tennyson: Son, son. Old Lady: Sorry - Alfred Lord, who is evidently Lord Tennisball's son. And to start off I'm going to ask Mr Wadsworth to recite his latest offering, a little pram entitled 'I wandered lonely as a crab' and it's all about ants. Murmur of exalted anticipation. Wordsworth rises rather gloomily. Wordsworth: I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high over vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden worker ants. Ripples of applause. Old Lady: Thank you, thank you, Mr Bradlaugh. Now, Mr Bysshe. Shelley: Shelley. Old Lady: Oh... (the dwarf refills her glass)... is going to read one of his latest psalms, entitled 'Ode to a crab'. Shelley: (rising: and taking his place quietly) Well, it's not about crabs actually, it's called 'Ozymandias'. It's not an ode. I met a traveller in an antique land Who said 'Six vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert And on the pedestal these words appear My name is Ozymandias, King of Ants (oohs from his audience) Look on my feelers, termites, and despair I am the biggest ant you'll ever see The ants of old weren't half as bold and big And fierce as me'. Enormous applause. Old Lady: Thank you Mr Amontillado. I'd like to ask one or two of you at the back not to soil the carpet, there is a restroom upstairs if you find the poems too exciting (she falls over) Good afternoon, next, Mr Dennis Keat will recite his latest problem 'Ode to a glass of sherry'. (she falls off the podium) Keats: My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains My senses, as though an anteater I'd seen (panic spreads and the audience half rise) A nasty long-nosed brute (screams from the audience) With furry legs and sticky darting tongue I seem to feel its cruel jaws Crunch crunch there go my legs Snap snap my thorax too (various screaming women faint) My head's in a twain, there goes my brain Swallow, swallow, swallow, slurp (he loses control) Old Lady: Mr Keats, Mr Keats, please leave immediately. Keats: It's true. Don't you see. It's true. It happens. Old Lady: (she bustles him out) Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologize for that last... well I hesitate to call it a pram ... but I had no idea ... and talking of filth... I have asked you once about the carpet ... Now, I do appreciate that last poem was very frightening... but please! Now before we move on to tea and pramwiches, I would like to ask Arthur Lord Tenniscourt to give us his latest little plum entitled 'The Charge of the Ant Brigade'. Tennyson Half an inch, half an inch... Enter Queen Victoria with a fanfare, followed by Albert's coffin. All: The Queen, the Queen. (they all bow and scrape) Queen Victoria: My loyal subjects, we are here today on a matter of national import. My late husband and we are increasingly disturbed by recent developments in literary style (developing a German accent) that have taken place here in Germany ... er England. There seems to be an increasing tendency for ze ent... the ent... the ant... to become the dominant ... was is der deutsches Entwicklungsbund... Attendant: Theme. Queen Victoria: Theme ... of modern poetry here in Germany. We are not ... amusiert? (an attendant whispers) Entertained. From now on, ants is verboten. Instead it's skylarks, daffodils, nightingales, light brigades and ... was ist das schreckliche Gepong ... es schmecke wie ein Scheisshaus... und so weiter. Well, we must away now or we shall be late for the races. God bless you alles.
19 comments:
Sorry Blogmeester but...
admitting to liking socks is slightly sad - or have I mssed something?
knee or ankle?
I have running socks - they are marked L and R - just to help me reach my full potential
I also have some ankle socks from your great nation - which are very preppy and can/may/should be worn with yachting type shoes. I do not have a yacht - but I do have the clobber.
I also have a kilt
Graham
Argyle pattern? Stripes? Clocks? Hello Kitty?
Lime Green? Red? Blue? Heliotrope?
You can't just say you were blessed with socks and leave us all hanging!
Graham-
Ankle socks with a kilt?
"Warm feet today, warm feet today;
We shall go rejoicing, with warm feet today!
Comfy are the feet, comfy are the feet;
We shall go rejoicing, 'cause comfy are the feet!"
Thus runneth the refrain of one of the best Protestant Christian hymns. More or less. Happy tootsies are a good thing. And I am notoriously a piker as regards the purchase of socks.
Plus, the gifting of socks is a given at chanuka. It is traditional. Ancient minhag. A veritable must. According to the precepts of Queens, Flatbush, and everyone's aunt Rose who lives in Florida.
For lo, it is written: "And Eliyahu cursed the priests of Ba'al, and they were barefoot; and the people rejoiced in the victory of the warm socks brought down by the prophet of the Lord", and elsewhere it states "for the Greeks and those who listened to them were all barefoot, but Judah returned woollen footiwooties to their asigned place".
Warm socks are a mitzvah.
My sock runneth over.
While sheperds washed their socks by night,
all seated round the tub,
an angel of the Lord came down...
and they began to scrub...
good Sabbath Kinder!
ttfn & burma
Graham
oh et bon weekend a tous & toutes
http://de.youtube.com/watch?v=yT0qoMcpxnQ&NR=1
Graham
Well nobody suggested that yachtsmen/women usually do NOT wear socks - which shows what landlubbers you all are....
anyhow
things have happened
since Friday night
May the IDF sock it to them!
of course everyone is shouting STOP!!!! coz they don't like it when the sock is on the other foot.
makes them feel inept - which they are.
with a kilt - knee socks - crumpled down - lots of grime and swea & a crazed look in the eyes....and a strong alchoholic vapor from the throat
Graham
And did those socks in ancient times walk upon England's mountains green?
E-kvetcher,
We will have to await the input of the amphibee for the follow-up to that MPFC reference.
;-D
"William Blake".
"William Blake?"
Hum dullbar
William Blake? :)
Old Lady: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, it's so nice to see such a large turnout this afternoon. And I'd like to start off by welcoming our guest speakers for this afternoon, Mr Wadsworth...
Wordsworth: Wordsworth!
Old Lady: Sorry, Wordsworth... Mr John Koots, and Percy Bysshe.
Shelley: Shelley!
Old Lady: Just a little one, medium dry, (a dwarf assistant pours her a sherry) and Alfred Lorde.
Tennyson: Tennyson.
Old Lady: Tennis ball.
Tennyson: Son, son.
Old Lady: Sorry - Alfred Lord, who is evidently Lord Tennisball's son. And to start off I'm going to ask Mr Wadsworth to recite his latest offering, a little pram entitled 'I wandered lonely as a crab' and it's all about ants.
Murmur of exalted anticipation. Wordsworth rises rather gloomily.
Wordsworth: I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high over vales and hills
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden worker ants.
Ripples of applause.
Old Lady: Thank you, thank you, Mr Bradlaugh. Now, Mr Bysshe.
Shelley: Shelley.
Old Lady: Oh... (the dwarf refills her glass)... is going to read one of his latest psalms, entitled 'Ode to a crab'.
Shelley: (rising: and taking his place quietly) Well, it's not about crabs actually, it's called 'Ozymandias'. It's not an ode.
I met a traveller in an antique land
Who said 'Six vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert
And on the pedestal these words appear
My name is Ozymandias, King of Ants
(oohs from his audience)
Look on my feelers, termites, and despair
I am the biggest ant you'll ever see
The ants of old weren't half as bold and big
And fierce as me'.
Enormous applause.
Old Lady: Thank you Mr Amontillado. I'd like to ask one or two of you at the back not to soil the carpet, there is a restroom upstairs if you find the poems too exciting (she falls over) Good afternoon, next, Mr Dennis Keat will recite his latest problem 'Ode to a glass of sherry'. (she falls off the podium)
Keats: My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains
My senses, as though an anteater I'd seen
(panic spreads and the audience half rise)
A nasty long-nosed brute
(screams from the audience)
With furry legs and sticky darting tongue
I seem to feel its cruel jaws
Crunch crunch there go my legs
Snap snap my thorax too
(various screaming women faint)
My head's in a twain, there goes my brain
Swallow, swallow, swallow, slurp (he loses control)
Old Lady: Mr Keats, Mr Keats, please leave immediately.
Keats: It's true. Don't you see. It's true. It happens.
Old Lady: (she bustles him out) Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologize for that last... well I hesitate to call it a pram ... but I had no idea ... and talking of filth... I have asked you once about the carpet ... Now, I do appreciate that last poem was very frightening... but please! Now before we move on to tea and pramwiches, I would like to ask Arthur Lord Tenniscourt to give us his latest little plum entitled 'The Charge of the Ant Brigade'.
Tennyson Half an inch, half an inch...
Enter Queen Victoria with a fanfare, followed by Albert's coffin.
All: The Queen, the Queen. (they all bow and scrape)
Queen Victoria: My loyal subjects, we are here today on a matter of national import. My late husband and we are increasingly disturbed by recent developments in literary style (developing a German accent) that have taken place here in Germany ... er England. There seems to be an increasing tendency for ze ent... the ent... the ant... to become the dominant ... was is der deutsches Entwicklungsbund...
Attendant: Theme.
Queen Victoria: Theme ... of modern poetry here in Germany. We are not ... amusiert? (an attendant whispers) Entertained. From now on, ants is verboten. Instead it's skylarks, daffodils, nightingales, light brigades and ... was ist das schreckliche Gepong ... es schmecke wie ein Scheisshaus... und so weiter. Well, we must away now or we shall be late for the races. God bless you alles.
Leck mich die Socken Meister hier ist was los... paarweise sogar
aber was und wie und warum?
hmmm
Graham
'What do you mean, "William Blake"?'
'I mean "William Blake"!'
Yes, William Blake wrote the poem. Und so weiter...
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