Memories are such fragile things So soft,fading into dreams Dimly obscured by the bitter smoke That rises up from fires of other years Tinged faintly with laughter,blackened With loss and washed with tears.
Ideas are far more powerful than guns, We dont let our people have guns. Why should we let them have ideas. "Joseph Stalin"
He who has braved youths dizzy heat dreads not the frost of age.
White Shirt, Tie, and "Sports Jacket", on Friday or Saturday Nights,....
Crap,....we musta' looked like Elwoood and Jake.
GTC
Member, Clan of the Border Rats -- “Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it.”- Mark Twain
Memories are such fragile things So soft,fading into dreams Dimly obscured by the bitter smoke That rises up from fires of other years Tinged faintly with laughter,blackened With loss and washed with tears.
WOW, I got my toe on the trigger after reading that!
Thats the first small part of a poem by George Draught.Read the whole thing and you will cry.Been in my memory for a long time.
Originally Posted by Furprick
Originally Posted by jdm953
Memories are such fragile things So soft,fading into dreams Dimly obscured by the bitter smoke That rises up from fires of other years Tinged faintly with laughter,blackened With loss and washed with tears.
WOW, I got my toe on the trigger after reading that!
Ideas are far more powerful than guns, We dont let our people have guns. Why should we let them have ideas. "Joseph Stalin"
He who has braved youths dizzy heat dreads not the frost of age.
Thats the first small part of a poem by George Draught.Read the whole thing and you will cry.Been in my memory for a long time.
Originally Posted by Furprick
Originally Posted by jdm953
Memories are such fragile things So soft,fading into dreams Dimly obscured by the bitter smoke That rises up from fires of other years Tinged faintly with laughter,blackened With loss and washed with tears.
Depressing, toe on trigger, is a metaphor.
WOW, I got my toe on the trigger after reading that!
Southern Rose I had forgot all about that. You smelled like a walking flower bed. As they say, thereby hangs a tale!
In the old school we went to there were steam radiators for heat. The longer the day went the hotter they got but when you first got there the rooms were like ice boxes.
So we are all sitting there one cold winter day and about mid morning we all began to smell something odd. The teacher, Miz Gem Floyd starts sniffing the air and begins to walk up and down the rows of kids sniffing away.
She comes to Fritz King and stops. Sniffs a couple of times and leans over and smells his head.
" Fritz, what in the world do you have on your head'" she said.
"Well'um Miz Gem, Freddy used up all the Southern Rose and I had to use bacon grease."
She sent him to the lunch room and made him wash his head in the sink using dish washing soap and hot water.
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