Just whatever

Best of the lot.

Enjoy K. Vee ............ (Hallmark are greeting cards)

Cards you won't find at Hallmark

1. So your daughter's a hooker, and it spoiled your day. Look at the bright side, it's really good pay.

2. My tire was thumping, I thought is was flat. When I looked at the tire, I noticed your cat. Sorry!

3. Looking back over the years that we've been together, I can't help but wonder? What the hell was I thinking?

4. Congratulations on your wedding day! Too bad no one likes your husband.

5. How could two people as beautiful as you... have such an ugly baby?

6. I've always wanted to have someone to hold, someone to love. After having met you... I've changed my mind.

7. I must admit, your brought Religion into my life..... I never believed in Hell till I met you.

8. As the days go by, I think of how lucky I am... that you're not here to ruin it for me.

9. Congratulations on your promotion. Before you go.....would you like to take this knife out of my back? You'll probably need it again.

10. Someday I hope to get married. But not to you.

11. Happy Birthday! You look great for your age... almost lifelike!

12. When we were together, you always said you'd die for me. Now that we've broken up, I think it's time you kept your promise.

13. We have been friends for a very long time.... what say we stop?

14. I'm so miserable without you... it's almost like you're here.

15. Congratulation on your new bundle of joy. Did you ever find out who the father was?

16. Your friends and I wanted to do something special for your birthday. So we're having you put to sleep.

17. Happy Birthday, Uncle Dad! (available only in Tennessee, Kentucky and West Virginia)

MUMMIES N POPPIES N STUFF .............. KLIKME

http://www.fortunecity.com/tinpan/parton/2/bandplayed.ram

In the event this falls on deaf ears ...


Eric Bogle ... April, 1982

This... in Australia, every year, we have... we celebrate... we remember "ANZAC DAY" -- an' it's a very important day in Australia... the whole day is given over to remembering the soldiers who died in... all the wars and... the whole day -- in Britain, in England, they have two minutes of silence once a year.
It's important in Australia, because at Gallipoli, in 1915, for the first time, the Australian soldiers had Australian officers -- before then, the Australian army had British officers.

And... by this time, it was an all-Australian army, and they did quite well... and Australia was very proud of 'em. And they engendered a great sense of national pride, back home in Australia.

The saying arose that Australia became a nation founded on the blood of our soldiers who died at Gallipoli. So... it was very important to Australia.

We have... in Britain just now.. and THEN it was "our brave boys at Gallipoli"... in Britain, just before John [Munro] and I left three days ago, it was "our brave boys in the Falkland Islands." The jingoism always remains the same... it's just the wars that are different... but they seem stupid, hackneyed phrases... which demeans the soldiers...

Right... I'll get off my pulpit... stop preaching and sing a song...
I get quite heated about this subject...


Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

Thank you, mr. D.

Ditto for me, Mr D.

Great song, Mr D!

Lo and behold, there's Mr. D!

Ah-beth, c.i., 'n deb, glad y'all appreciated the piece. Hope you could hear it okay. It reminds me, as I mentioned to Kara, of what Joan Baez had to say about the song Birmingham Sunday, "it sounds gentle, but it doesn't protest gently."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hail! and well met, Craven.

Heard it well, mr. d. Not a beautiful song, but a song with something to say.

Thank you Mr. D.
A beautifully sad song ....

I don't remember an occasion where I've joined in singing "waltzing mathilda" that wasn't uplifting and joyous. It felt more like a brotherhood of sorts.

Thanks for reminding me a an exquisitely sad & beautiful song, Debacle:

Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback,
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As the ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water;
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well;
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell --
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
When we stopped to bury our slain,
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead --
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda,"
All around the green bush far and free --
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.

But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory,
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda,"
And the old men still answer the call,
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

Once, in a study of war with a group of secondary students, I played that song to them. Not only were a number of them in tears as a result, but their teacher was too! So very moving.

Them ain't the normal Waltzing Matildas CI

No, c.i., nothing like the original, though it obviously draws on it to convey the "Australian-ness" of the experience. Eric Bogle sings it beautifully. You can't fail to be moved, especially if you're Australian.

This is your brain on drugs .....

Dear Diary:

File under F.O., for Feeling Old:
This from today's NYTimes Metropolitan Diary:



Mr. D., tanks for Waltzing Matilda, variant..