He's smarter than the average bear
I think it's how he wears his hair
He walks the dogs wearing a crimson ascot
look boo boo and unattended picnic basket
jellystone park yogi's home
there's a funny video about a husky that won't get out of bed
i walk dogs.
it was not a career of choice but just sort of happened.
years ago, a client was planning a two-week vacation to jellystone national park and needed both a house sitter and a dog(s) sitter.
He's smarter than the average bear
I think it's how he wears his hair
He walks the dogs wearing a crimson ascot
look boo boo and unattended picnic basket
jellystone park yogi's home
there's a funny video about a husky that won't get out of bed
my first job before armageddonprologue: i left texas in 1974 and headed west to california to search for a job as an artist.
i didn't want to spend the rest of my life toiling for minimum wage as a janitor jehovah's witness.it was the year before 1975. as a jw, that should be a scary year.
not for me!i was determined to escape from all the influences of crazy people and to start living a real life.and now the story begins...______he was a tall man with a full and kinky black beard, glasses, and pretentious poseur pipe.. his name was jim rakey (rhymes with "flakey") and he belonged to a cult dedicated to the eternal truth: atlantis (the lost continent) would rise again from the sea as the enlightened government for all the world.
A classic line
i had an elder tell me once i was grieving holy spirit but i’m not sure how this dickhead knew..
the holy spirit cried that day
the sky was dark and very grey
oh holy spirit what's your game?
some might think you are insane.
no one understands your mood
a sensitive and fragile dude
some men would despair to be in my place.. i am immobile; this would seem an irreparable blow to what i have always perceived as the defining characteristics of manhood: taking risks, conquering new territory, marching forward with confidence toward a future of assured promise and prosperity.
however, this injury to my legs has become the final blow.
over the years, my once sturdy frame has been weakened by chronic illness.
It is tough as you grow older and the limitations are disturbing. Some days are better than others but overall it's hard to face not having the answers to our existence. I try to use my time investigating ideas that interest me and I have become fearless in my thoughts. When I need a break from reality I create imaginary sci fi worlds since I'm not given to food,drink,drugs and other traditional self medications. We do what we can to survive and what will be will be.
truest love, ever near, from my spring till winter.. your warm, supple skin is sheer delight to my touch.. gliding fingers up and down your spine tell me .
that, truly, heaven’s gates have opened to me.. treasures long hid from me cause my heart to.
melt as your trove of precious thoughts works .
That was amusing and I was inspired to begin writing something in response. However, as it developed I decided to back off on this one.
greetings, gourmands of the forum!.
i agree with garfield, but mayo comes in a close second.
slathering my pasta with an inch of best foods real mayonnaise (hellman's, east of the rockies) is close to heaven for me.
brush salmon with olive oil then squeeze on a little lemon add some spices of choice then slather with hellmans real mayonaise and bake VERY DELICIOUS
my first job before armageddonprologue: i left texas in 1974 and headed west to california to search for a job as an artist.
i didn't want to spend the rest of my life toiling for minimum wage as a janitor jehovah's witness.it was the year before 1975. as a jw, that should be a scary year.
not for me!i was determined to escape from all the influences of crazy people and to start living a real life.and now the story begins...______he was a tall man with a full and kinky black beard, glasses, and pretentious poseur pipe.. his name was jim rakey (rhymes with "flakey") and he belonged to a cult dedicated to the eternal truth: atlantis (the lost continent) would rise again from the sea as the enlightened government for all the world.
It was just another Saturday morning
He should have had some kind of warning
The doorbell rang who could it be?
They smiled and said "play misty for me"
my first job before armageddonprologue: i left texas in 1974 and headed west to california to search for a job as an artist.
i didn't want to spend the rest of my life toiling for minimum wage as a janitor jehovah's witness.it was the year before 1975. as a jw, that should be a scary year.
not for me!i was determined to escape from all the influences of crazy people and to start living a real life.and now the story begins...______he was a tall man with a full and kinky black beard, glasses, and pretentious poseur pipe.. his name was jim rakey (rhymes with "flakey") and he belonged to a cult dedicated to the eternal truth: atlantis (the lost continent) would rise again from the sea as the enlightened government for all the world.
What an experience treasure it always
first, a word about the watchtower’s financial position: nobody (outside the watchtower organization) knows.
the wtbs is not required to disclose its finances, and doesn’t.
we can speculate, but that is all we are doing.
I hope the organization implodes it's a menace.
this place -- unknown to all but me -- has become my refuge.. at last, i have discovered a tiny spot out in the open -- i love open spaces -- where no one can see me.
it is beautiful here while i watch people walk to and fro past me; yet, i am unseen.
i yammer giddily at them, but they are completely oblivious to my presence, my antics, my mock plaints.. i laugh, but they do not laugh with me because they do not see the joke.
I am Nancy Drew who writes crazy little rhymes
I am an X JW who left because it wasn't the right answer
I am a curious traveler of unusual ideas fearless burning bridges behind me
I like cats, beaches, marcona almonds and sunrises with coffee
But I'm hiding here in cyberspace free to be whatever and say whatever and tickle my curiosity about other humans.
The rhymer addict