Isolated Blurt Thread

Status
Not open for further replies.
Coming Together said:
FANNY-tastic news, Crim!

Thanks! :)

I've got stuff the next two sizes down. After that... I can raid my mom's closet. She has enough clothes to fit three people for weeks without repeating an outfit, lol.
 
Belegon said:
ain't it a great feeling? :D


Yep :D And I hope it keeps repeating for a long time to come (until I get to my target weight anyway, lol).

I told my husband that if I managed to lose all the weight I wanted, that he needed to go online and nominate me for What Not to Wear since I'd need an entire new wardrobe, lol.
 
The fridge went out today. i found this out when i got a pizza out to cook and found it thawed. Along with about 30 pounds of venison.

Crap.
 
For Burns Night (January 25th)

Address to a Haggis: ( :D )

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to mend a mill
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro' blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer
Gie her a haggis!




There you have it boys. If you want her grateful prayer, give her a haggis. ;)
 
My feet are cold.

The local radio stations only have 5 songs that they play over and over.

I need to quit smoking.

I evidently have no friends.

Flambe' would be a good name for an exotic male dancer.

Cheese is really old milk.
 
damppanties said:
It goes away if I don't write it soon enough. And when I do, I sometimes manage to feel.
As long as the outcome is good...go for it.

My nose is cold, can I nuzzle your neck?
 
Samandiriel said:
As long as the outcome is good...go for it.

My nose is cold, can I nuzzle your neck?
Well, depends on what you think is 'good'. :devil:

I think nuzzle is my newest favouritest word.
 
damppanties said:
Well, depends on what you think is 'good'. :devil:

I think nuzzle is my newest favouritest word.
I guess I'll have to find out then? :catroar: NUZZLE!!!....now I must get to bed...you coming with me? :devil:
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top