Melbourne

[Letmepleaseu01]

Melbourne guy looking for female who wishes to be pleased her way pm me

 

[Radiohead]

Melbourne guy looking for female who wishes to be pleased her way pm me

You want me to fuck you up the arse... great. just PM me.

 

[Hard_Rom]

Melbourne guy looking for female who wishes to be pleased her way pm me

You need to be posting in the Personals. You're about to be character assassinated in a big fucking way. Best edit out your post and quietly slink away.

This is the GB. Think of it as Deadwood in the HBO series. You need a thick skin, a sense of humour and a quick draw on the witty replies.

Welcome to Deadwood! It's combative.

 

[Radiohead]

You need to be posting in the Personals. You're about to be character assassinated in a big fucking way. Best edit out your post and quietly slink away.

This is the GB. Think of it as Deadwood in the HBO series. You need a thick skin, a sense of humour and a quick draw on the witty replies.

Welcome to Deadwood! It's combative.

I did say this already.

 

[Hard_Rom]

I did say this already.

But in your usual nonsensical confusing manner.

You better watch out sp71lt will be calling you an ugly hazing bitch for being mean to fellow Lit users.

 

[Radiohead]

But in your usual nonsensical confusing manner.

You better watch out sp71lt will be calling you an ugly hazing bitch for being mean to fellow Lit users.

If it can speak english, I may notice.

Odds are low.

 

[Hard_Rom]

If it can speak english, I may notice.

Odds are low.

?????

 

[Hard_Rom]

we're all here to be reckless / we're all sleazy and easy to please
Dreamers and schemers on the loose

 

[Radiohead]

Melbourne Lyrics

She paints pictures on the wall
She eats all of the garden
And has an aversion to conviction
And she calls her dog, "The Bear"

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings from the night before
And she eats all of the garden
It's a jungle out there and we won't return by dawn

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

If I had three lives
I'd marry her in two
I'm dreaming of a time
That we sit when the music stops

She has an aversion to conviction
She's more confused than ever
Won't pay her fines and wonders
When the cops will get her

She calls her dog, "The Bear"
And walks me with him to the corner
In her pajamas

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings
Calls her dog, "The Bear"
Walks me with him to the corner

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings
Calls her dog, "The Bear"
And walks me with him to the corner
In her pajamas

 

[oggbashan]

The Siren
by C. J. Dennis
From book: The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke


SHE sung a song; an' I sat silent there,
Wiv bofe 'ands grippin' 'ard on to me chair;
Me 'eart, that yesterdee I thort wus broke
Wiv 'umpin' sich a 'eavy load o' care,
Come swellin' in me throat like I would choke.
I felt 'ot blushes climbin' to me 'air.


'Twas like that feelin' when the Spring wind breaves
Sad music in the sof'ly rustlin' leaves.
An' when a bloke sits down an' starts to chew
Crook thorts, wivout quite knowin' why 'e grieves
Fer things 'e's done 'e didn't ort to do—
Fair winded wiv the 'eavy sighs 'e 'eaves.


She sung a song; an' orl at once I seen
The kind o' crool an' 'eartless broot I been.
In ev'ry word I read it like a book—
The slanter game I'd played wiv my Doreen—
I 'eard it in 'er song; an' in 'er look
I seen wot made me feel fair rotten mean.

Poor, 'urt Doreen! My tender bit o' fluff!
Ar, men don't understand; they're fur too rough;
Their ways is fur too coarse wiv lovin' tarts;
They never gives 'em sympathy enough.
They treats 'em 'arsh; they tramples on their 'earts;
Becos their own crool 'earts is leather-tough.


She sung a song; an' orl them bitter things
That chewin' over lovers' quarrels brings
Guv place to thorts of sorrer an' remorse.
Like when some dilly punter goes an' slings
'Is larst, lone deener on some stiffened 'orse,
An' learns them vain regrets wot 'urts an' stings.


'Twas at a beano where I lobs along
To drown them memories o' fancied wrong.
I swears I never knoo that she'd be there.
But when I met 'er eye—O 'Struth 'twas strong!
'Twas bitter strong, that jolt o' dull despair!
'Er look o' scorn!… An' then, she sung a song.


The choon was one o' them sad, mournful things
That ketch yeh in the bellers 'ere, and brings
Tears to yer eyes. The words was uv a tart
'Go's trackin' wiv a silly coot 'oo slings
'Er love aside, an' breaks 'er tender 'eart…
But 'twasn't that; it was the way she sings.

To 'ear 'er voice!… A bloke 'ud be a log
'Oo kep' 'is block. Me mind wus in a fog
Uv sorrer for to think 'ow I wus wrong.
Ar, I 'ave been a fair ungrateful 'og!
The feelin' that she put into that song
'Ud melt the 'eart-strings of a chiner dog.


I listens wiv me 'eart up in me throat;
I drunk in ev'ry word an' ev'ry note.
Tears trembles in 'er voice when she tells 'ow
That tart snuffed out becos 'e never wrote.
An' then I seen 'ow I wus like that cow.
Wiv suddin shame me guilty soul wus smote.


Doreen, she never looked my way; but stood
'Arf turned away, an' beefed it out reel good,
Until she sang that bit about the grave;
"Too late 'e learned 'e 'ad misunderstood!"
An' then—Gawstruth ! The pleadin' look she gave
Fair in me face 'ud melt a 'eart 'o wood.


I dunno 'ow I seen that evenin' thro'.
They must 'a' thort I wus 'arf shick, I knoo.
But I 'ad 'urt Doreen wivout no call;
I seen me dooty, wot I 'ad to do.
O, strike! I could 'a' blubbed before 'em all!
But I sat tight, an' never cracked a boo.

An' when at larst the tarts they makes a rise,
A lop-eared coot wiv 'air down to 'is eyes
'E 'ooks on to Doreen, an' starts to roam
Fer 'ome an' muvver. I lines up an' cries,
"'An's orf! I'm seein' this 'ere cliner 'ome!"
An' there we left 'im, gapin' wiv surprise.


She never spoke; she never said no word;
But walked beside me like she never 'eard.
I swallers 'ard, an' starts to coax an' plead.
I sez I'm dead ashamed o' wot's occurred.
She don't reply; she never takes no 'eed;
Jist stares before 'er like a startled bird.


I tells 'er, never can no uvver tart
Be 'arf wot she is, if we 'ave to part.
I tells 'er that me life will be a wreck.
It ain't no go. But when I makes a start
To walk away, 'er arms is roun' me neck.
"Ah, Kid!" she sobs. "Yeh nearly broke me 'eart!"


I dunno wot I done or wot I said.
But 'Struth! I'll not forgit it till I'm dead—
That night when 'ope back in me brisket lobs:
'Ow my Doreen she lays 'er little 'ead
Down on me shoulder 'ere, an' sobs an' sobs;
An' orl the lights goes sort 'o blurred an' red.

Say, square an' all—It don't seem right, some'ow,
To say sich things; but wot I'm feelin' now
'As come at times, I s'pose, to uvver men—
When you 'ave 'ad a reel ole ding-dong row,
Say, ain't it bonzer makin' up agen?
Straight wire, it's almost worth… Ar, I'm a cow!


To think I'd ever seek to 'arm a 'air
Of 'er dear 'ead agen! My oath, I swear
No more I'll roust on 'er in angry 'eat!
But still, she never seemed to me so fair;
She never wus so tender or so sweet
As when she smooged beneath the lamplight there.


She's never been so lovin' wiv 'er gaze;
So gentle wiv 'er pretty wimmin's ways.
I tells 'er she's me queen, me angel, too.
"Ah, no, I ain't no angel, Kid," she says.
"I'm jist a woman, an' I loves yeh true!
An' so I'll love yeh all me mortal days!"


She sung a song.… 'Ere, in me barmy style,
I sets orl tarts; for in me hour o' trile
Me soul wus withered be a woman's frown,
An' broodin' care come roostin' on me dile.
She sung a song… Me 'eart, wiv woe carst down,
Wus raised to 'Eaven be a woman's smile.

 

[hashtag45]

We're doing poems now?
I'm not much into english poems, but I liked this one:


" O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?"

To a Fat Lady Seen From the Train -- Frances Cornford

 

[MichaelinChina]

She paints pictures on the wall
She eats all of the garden
And has an aversion to conviction
And she calls her dog, "The Bear"

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings from the night before
And she eats all of the garden
It's a jungle out there and we won't return by dawn

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

If I had three lives
I'd marry her in two
I'm dreaming of a time
That we sit when the music stops

She has an aversion to conviction
She's more confused than ever
Won't pay her fines and wonders
When the cops will get her

She calls her dog, "The Bear"
And walks me with him to the corner
In her pajamas

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home

In love with this girl
And with her town as well
Walkin' 'round the rainy city
What a pity there's things to do at home
Things to do at home

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings
Calls her dog, "The Bear"
Walks me with him to the corner

She paints pictures on the wall
I awake to see the feelings
Calls her dog, "The Bear"
And walks me with him to the corner
In her pajamas

You didn't mention it was a song by the Aussie band, The Whitlams. Tim Freedman wrote them. Lovely song, great words.