Go directly to jail. Do NOT collect two hundred dollars.
Dollar for dollar, this car is worth every last cent.
Cent to Coventry, that's a pun, who knows what it means. And it's certainly not funny.
Funny it is, I think. Perhaps it's about punsters trying to use US currency throughout England, saying 'I thought England used the American system now.'
Now is the hour, for me to say goodbye. An line from old song from the 1940s, little heard today.
Now is the hour,
When we must say goodbye,
Soon you'll be sailing,
Far across the sea.
While you're away,
Oh, please remember me,
When you return,
You'll find me waiting here.
Here we go again, poetry. It's difficult to avoid rhymesters.
(Letty, we are starting with the last word of the last post..)
Rhymesters run rollicking around rotundas. Risky, as rotunda floors are often slippery.
Slippery rotunda floors won't do right now as Mr. Reagan is on his way. Wouldn't want an embarrasing accident now, would we?
We wouldn't, would we? I am trying to be nice on this subject this week, aren't I?
I am glad Ossobuco is trying to be nice. Is it really only for a week, though?
Oops, sorry. I thought this was a conversation about anything. Couldn't resist letting McTag know that I KNEW that song.
The week, the weak, and the meek shall inherit nothing. The rest of us will have to make do with Ronnie's legacy.
Legacy is a good thing if you are the recipient of something nice. The legacy of a genetic fault is however UNPLEASANT.
It's San Andreas' fault, not mine.
Were we to live in California,
Genetics wouldn't help us.
Beat, beat, Drom
and the beat goes on..........................................
Movements of a political nature are rather boring to my mind. More interesting are word and letter permutations.
permutations, genetic mutations, a letter to the world by lovely Emily.
Emily's Wuthering Heights still rivets to-day. I wonder what she would have written, were she alive long enough to write another book.
Book me a ringside seat at the circus of life! Nothing is so FASCINATING.
