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Joined: Feb 2001
Posts: 182
Campfire Member
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OP
Campfire Member
Joined: Feb 2001
Posts: 182 |
Don't post very often but a friend e-mailed this to me & I though Les might find it entertaining Ole and Sven die in a snowmobiling accident, drunker than skunks, and go to hell. The Devil observes that they are really enjoying themselves. He says to them 'Doesn't the heat and smoke bother you?" Ole replies, 'Vell, ya know, ve're from nordern Michigan, da land of snow an ice, an ve're yust happy fer a chance ta varm up a little bit, don't ya know.' The devil decides that these two aren't miserable enough and turns up the heat even more. When he returns to the room of the two guys from Michigan's Upper Peninsula, the devil finds them in light jackets and hats, grilling walleye and drinking beer. The devil is astonished and exclaims, 'Everyone down here is in abject misery, and you two seem to be enjoying yourselves?' Sven replies, 'Vell, ya know, ve don't git too much varm veather up dere at da Soo, so ve've yust got ta haff a fish fry vhen da veather's dis nice.' The devil is absolutely furious. He can hardly see straight. Finally he comes up with the answer. The two guys love the heat because they have been cold all their lives. The devil decides to turn all the heat off in Hell. The next morning, the temperature is 60 below zero, icicles are hanging everywhere, and people are shivering so bad that they are unable to wail, moan or gnash their teeth. The devil smiles and heads for the room with Ole and Sven. He gets there and finds them back in their parkas, bomber hats, and mittens. They are jumping up and down, cheering, yelling and screaming like mad men. The devil is dumbfounded, 'I don't understand, when I turn up the heat you're happy. Now its freezing cold and you're still happy. What is wrong with you two?' They both look at the devil in surprise and say, "Vell, don't ya know; if hell is froze over, dat must mean da Lions von da Super Bowl!
Exercising maximum personal freedom means . . . accepting total personal responsibility...!!
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Joined: May 2003
Posts: 20,494
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: May 2003
Posts: 20,494 |
. . . . . . or for the Canuckian version, the Toronto Maple Leafs won the . . . . . . . . now what the heck is the name of that cup that they ain't won in 40 years??
"Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life." (Prov 4:23) Brother Keith
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Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 29,348
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 29,348 |
The Cremation of Sam McGee Robert W Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam �round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he�d often say in his homely way that �he�d sooner live in hell.�
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka�s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we�d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn�t see; It wasn�t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o�erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and �Cap,� says he, �I�ll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I�m asking that you won�t refuse my last request.�
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn�t say no; then he says with a sort of moan: �It�s the cursed cold, and it�s got right hold till I�m chilled clean through to the bone. Yet �taint being dead�it�s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you�ll cremate my last remains.�
A pal�s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn�t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn�t get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: �You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it�s up to you to cremate those last remains.�
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows�O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I�d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the �Alice May.� And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then �Here,� said I, with a sudden cry, �is my cre-ma-tor-eum.�
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared and the furnace roared�such a blaze you seldom see; Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn�t like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don�t know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: �I�ll just take a peep inside. I guess he�s cooked, and it�s time I looked;� . . . then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: �Please close that door. It�s fine in here, but I greatly fear you�ll let in the cold and storm� Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it�s the first time I�ve been warm.�
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
"Good enough" isn't.
Always take your responsibilities seriously but never yourself.
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Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 54,842
Campfire Kahuna
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Campfire Kahuna
Joined: Jan 2005
Posts: 54,842 |
Hey now, the Lions will when the Superbowl................when I am as rich as Old Man Ford!
Back in the heartland, Thank God!
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Joined: Sep 2004
Posts: 14,178 Likes: 1
Campfire Outfitter
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Campfire Outfitter
Joined: Sep 2004
Posts: 14,178 Likes: 1 |
The Cremation of Sam McGee Robert W Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the South to roam �round the Pole, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell; Though he�d often say in his homely way that �he�d sooner live in hell.�
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold! through the parka�s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we�d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn�t see; It wasn�t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And the dogs were fed, and the stars o�erhead were dancing heel and toe, He turned to me, and �Cap,� says he, �I�ll cash in this trip, I guess; And if I do, I�m asking that you won�t refuse my last request.�
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn�t say no; then he says with a sort of moan: �It�s the cursed cold, and it�s got right hold till I�m chilled clean through to the bone. Yet �taint being dead�it�s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains; So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you�ll cremate my last remains.�
A pal�s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail; And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale. He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee; And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn�t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven, With a corpse half hid that I couldn�t get rid, because of a promise given; It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: �You may tax your brawn and brains, But you promised true, and it�s up to you to cremate those last remains.�
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code. In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load. In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring, Howled out their woes to the homeless snows�O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow; And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low; The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in; And I�d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay; It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the �Alice May.� And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum; Then �Here,� said I, with a sudden cry, �is my cre-ma-tor-eum.�
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire; Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher; The flames just soared and the furnace roared�such a blaze you seldom see; Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn�t like to hear him sizzle so; And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don�t know why; And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear; But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near; I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: �I�ll just take a peep inside. I guess he�s cooked, and it�s time I looked;� . . . then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar; And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: �Please close that door. It�s fine in here, but I greatly fear you�ll let in the cold and storm� Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it�s the first time I�ve been warm.�
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, But the queerest they ever did see Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam McGee.
I had to learn that in 9th grade English. So many years ago.
Well we're Green and we're Gold, and we play better when it's cold. All us Cheese heads have our favorite superstar. We love Brett Favre.
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Joined: May 2003
Posts: 20,494
Campfire Ranger
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Campfire Ranger
Joined: May 2003
Posts: 20,494 |
I memorized it for lines in the 8th grade, back in 1963. Loved it then, and still do. Thanks, Doc Howell.
"Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life." (Prov 4:23) Brother Keith
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Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 86,237 Likes: 25
Campfire Oracle
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Campfire Oracle
Joined: Dec 2003
Posts: 86,237 Likes: 25 |
They both look at the devil in surprise and say, "Vell, don't ya know; if hell is froze over, dat must mean... The Cubs Win!!! The Cubs Win!!! The Cubs Win!!!
If you take the time it takes, it takes less time. --Pat Parelli
American by birth; Alaskan by choice. --ironbender
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Joined: Dec 2007
Posts: 393
Campfire Member
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Campfire Member
Joined: Dec 2007
Posts: 393 |
I'M FROM DA SOO and I RESENT,er, I Mean, I Represent that joke.
By the way, high today of 5, low tonight of -29. Sounds like a heat wave.
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