JGowans

Well, I didn't quite quote him literally but I was spot on with respect to his sentiments so FS, stick that in your silly shaking head smack pipe and smoke it... "``Nationalism is an infantile disease,'' Einstein once remarked. ``It is the measles of mankind.'' http://www.juneauempire.com/Archive/March99/031199/stories/031199/Ope_palcol.html Another triumph for the Euro over the puny American weak minded wannabe Euro.

wasn't it Einstein who thought that nationalism was the most stupid thing in the world?

good thread this. i just checked in and nice to see some healthy shite slinging going on. i'm going to sit front and center, munch my pop corn, sip my $8 beers, check out the chicks with the "next round" cards, and wait for the next mud pie to be lobbed overhead. ding ding. bush is a lying bastard you conservative wankers!! prove me otherwise.

Yes, that was AWESOME!! That Bluegrass sound really seems to be in vogue right now. I think a lot of modern acts are putting out similar stuff (or trying to at least)

Zydeco: I could never quite get into that too much when I lived down there. I guess the washboard and spoons were too distracting or something. Good suggestions though. The cultural commentators and story tellers are what I'm looking for. Guys and gals that sang about epochal events like the gold rush, the westward migration, the discovery of oil, politics of the day, blah blah blah.

Not intended to be condescending mate. Do you consider yourself to be an accomplished wordsmith as opposed to aspiring? Is that the gist of your vexation?

Yeah, I know about all those fellas and they all are good. However, VM is Irish, Don McLean is a bit sappy, James Taylor ditto. As for BB King, Otis Redding, and John Lee Hooker, all good, but I'm more interested in finding out about the real folks singers that had something to say like Woody Guthrie, Tom Paxton, and more lately...Ani Defranco (I've never heard her stuff yet admittedly).

jg be 1m 81cm which i think is 6'

Nope. But i used to be a singer in a band in college, and the owner of the pub where we played, said I had a kind voice...the kind he never wants to hear!!!

Hey folks, I'm interested in hearing more material from American Folk Singers of days gone by such as Tom Paxton. Any suggestions? Who's your favorite?

Kitten, your kind words spark light into this dank forum! How's that for a cheesy compliment?

bastard!

I'd like to officially start the MHMC (Mile High Masturbation Club). Guilty as charged Ms. Air Hostess lady. ooh err.

Ok folks, I know you sprayers have bugger all to do. DFA's an aspiring wordsmith, and I'm sure that there's loads of potential entertainment locked up inside every noggin. How about an informal writing contest? Here's my contribution. It's the intro to a book I started to write about a crazy fella who had slit his wrists, is lying on the floor bleeding, and was about to recollect his life with each pulsing spurt. The effort is called "The Veneer of Sanity" ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Have known that the madness always lurked within just below the surface. My veneer of sanity fools everyone but a few. She was mad too. My mother. Liked the booze as well as the men. I’m much the same, but substitute the females for the males. Don’t misunderstand. I see beauty in the masculine form, but I have no interest in sex or love beyond females. The booze scares me as much as the insanity. The insanity of booze. The booziness of insanity. Two dormant diseases that have been my guests, and I the obliging, yet somewhat unsuspecting host for most of my life. I’ve harnessed them well, but now the yoke is loose, the plan askew, and the paranoia rampant. They’re lurking with intent. Yes! An intent to be most efficacious. Me they must mortally attack. I am what? Nothing! Ha! Not worth a pursuit. That’s what I say now, but for all my life, I’ve known that to be very much not the case. You see, I’m possessed. A veritable possession of genius no less. I whisper it to myself lest either affliction declares my self primed for retribution. I don’t deserve it. But actually, I do! I know I do. Callous, uncaring, and cold am I. No! Say not those words unto me. Be gone with your scythe and leave you sickle for it is now time to harvest the contents of my mind. Submerged among the shattered dreams and haggard hopes lies my last chance. Staggering and sloping in a bar. Leave that saloon for you are my last gasp of air. Not putrid at all. Afford me that last brilliant conscious stream of thought. Afford me nothing more than that for it is I who will not succumb to the daily blah of mortality. I refuse. I defy the piddling, pompous, passive predicament referred to as a successful life. Who has the bloody right to tell me what it is anyway? Life! I am the alarm clock that will sound every day for the rest of your life. My bell shall strike every continent and the thundering boom shall reverberate within your soul and serve as a constant reminder of who you are. Forget never what it is that makes you you. I’m forgetting, but only because I’ve slipped too far. My money will soon dry up, but my liver will never know the aridity of sobriety. Dance little grape. Skip daintily from your bottle to this dreg… of society. I know who I am today, but tomorrow my spots will be squares. All the while, the squares sit blindly at their desks, watch the tick tick ticking and wish that they were me. Whoa! Who’d want that? Please say that it’s not true. You don’t even know me. Sleep on it. Take whatever you need to drain it from your system, but just let it go. Let me go. Snap the string and watch this kite go go go! Zippa, zoop, zwang. I’m gone, and you didn’t even miss me. One day I’ll let you in on a little secret. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Simple really. I'm "on the bench" (between projects) and have bugger all to do just now. Make mine a Guinness!

This is a song me and my buddy made whilst drunk on the porch one Saturday morning a couple of years ago. Just came across it on my computer. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ At the end of the street in the big gray house Lived three young good looking lads One was a Scot, the other a Yank The last one he was a Swede Across from the garden Lived two old gay artists But we never knew that from the start And then at their window One of them was bent over And we knew he wasn’t taking a fart Chorus Hey Neighbors! What are you doing? ‘Cos we’re hanging out And we’re wondering if you’re free Hey Neighbors! What are you doing? We’ve got your gin and some beers But don’t think we’re queers We’ve got this Asian postman And we think his name is Chin But we have a big problem with him He ain’t never late And he brings all our bills But the porno never drops in Since we were really young boys We’ve loved these publications Hustler, Playboy, Penthouse are their names We don’t know about Chin But we think he’s got a thing For shaking his ding a ling Chorus We share our house with squirrels And we get along quite well But they can be a pain in the ass They eat up our garbage And always leave a mess But they never ever confess We hear them in the trees And they make a lot of noise They and their fellow raccoons We don’t know what they do But we think we’ve got a clue Because of the dripping goo Chorus We have been known to party About six times a week When everyone else is asleep They see us running in They see us running out But they mostly see us stagger in the street When we open up the backyard And fire up the grill Our friends start rolling in Some bring a leg Others a breast But we provide the meat Chorus Spread your legs and say cheers Cos you know we ain’t queers ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

dont' forget this euro just followed up a 4th class rock in snoqualmie pass

I swear to god, I went up to Vancouver earlier this year to watch the Canucks beat the Redwings. In a bar on Granville, my buddy is hitting on a chick. She turns to him and says, "Honey, you're cute but I'm taking him (me) home with me and he's going to eat my pussy." Needless to say, I wasn't exactly impressed. Moreover, I have a girlfriend anyway and don't dabble in the old 2-timing thing. Pretty funny though nonetheless. Another time, in college (in Louisiana), I had a wee tryst with a girl on my track team. When I asked her if she'd had an orgasm, she replied (imagine a thick southern accent), "Sheet, ah don't know where you was but you was way up there and ah know you ain't s'posed to be hittin' that sheet." Nice one!!!

Fence_sitter once got his weiner stuck in the eye slot on his wheelchair bound girlfriend's front door. for a minute he thought he was in Deja Vu. Instead, his girlfriend now has to deal with being in a wheelchair and now has a glass eye to boot. Shame on you FS.

Just seeing if any ladies would post ha ha ha

Discuss?

I'll stick it on the front of mine and scare those ruskies with my barcoded HORSECOCK sticker on the front of my helmet. Everyone in the mounties will think that's my name and from thenceforth I'll be referred to as Horsecock. "Hey, horsecock, pass me that hex from Trask's ass if you'd be so kind."

The finest granite bud. Enjoy.

What's a CHEASTBEATER? Is that the same as Chestbeater?

Praying Is Aid cascadeclimbers.com