WA2K Radio is now on the air

Good morning, Raggedy and Bio Bob. Thanks to both of you for the info and the pictures.

I'm afraid, PA, that I don't know Stanley, but Naomi I do know.

Back later, listeners, with a song and a news item.

Here he is, listeners. Henry VIII. My sister has every one of Holbein's prints.



Hermans Hermits - I`m Henry Viii, I Am Lyrics
(Murray/Weston)

I`m Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She`s been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn`t have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I`m her eighth old man, I`m Henry
Henry the eighth I am

Second verse same as the first

I`m Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She`s been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn`t have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I`m her eighth old man, I`m Henry
Henry the eighth I am

------ lead guitar ------

I`m Henry the eighth I am
Henry the eighth I am, I am
I got married to the widow next door
She`s been married seven times before
And every one was an Henry (Henry)
She wouldn`t have a Willy or a Sam (no Sam)
I`m her eighth old man, I`m Henry
Henry the eighth I am

H-E-N-R-Y
Henry (Henry)
Henry (Henry)
Henry the eighth I am, I am
Henry the eighth I am

Yeah!

Wouldn't that be "Henery," Letty?

Welcome back, Eva. Indeed it would, dear. I even thought it was 'enery. <smile>

but what does google know, right?

Incidentally, folks, I would like to thank our Francis for being kind enough to respond to Arthur's thread. I had hoped that McTag would as well.

You mean the guy had a lot of chicken?

No, just that the British sometimes have problems speaking their own language. <LOL>

Well, my goodness, there's our Francis back with a setting hen.

Let's play a song for the fowl:

Don't believe the Spittin' Image like the funky chicken dance, Francis
Its the time of year
Now that Spring is in the air
When those two wet gits with their girly curly hair
Make another song for moronic holidays
That nauseate-ate-ate
In a million different ways
From the shores of Spain
To the coast of Southern France
No matter where you hide
You just can't escape this dance

Hold a chicken in the air
Stick a deckchair up your nose
Buy a jumbo jet
And then bury all your clothes
Paint your left knee green
Then extract your wisdom teeth
Form a string quartet
And pretend your name is Keith

Skin yourself alive
Learn to speak Arapahoe
Climb inside a dog
And behead an eskimo
Eat a Renault Four with salami in your ears
Casserole your gran
Disembowel yourself with spears

The disco is vibrating
The sound is loud and grating
Its truly nauseating
Let's do the dance again

Hold a chicken in the air
Stick a deckchair up your nose
Yes you'll hear this song in the holiday discos
And there's no escape in the clubs or in the bars
You would hear this song if you holidayed in Mars

Skin yourself alive
Learn to speak Arapahoe
Climb inside a dog
And behead an eskimo
Now you've heard it once
Your brain will spring a leak
And though you hate this song
You'll be humming it for weeks

Hold a chicken in the air
Stick a deckchair up your nose
Buy a jumbo jet
And then bury all your clothes
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la laaaaaaa

That dance makes me tired with that many things to do...

My word, France. There's no way that you can be tired.

Hey, Eva and Francis. any requests today?

I 'ave no idea whatcha torkin' abart.

Well, there's our Lord. I understand you perfectly, Brit.

Ah think you do, not that y'all are any worse than Suthunuhs heah.

Well, for Eva, Francis, and the Lord, 'ere's one from the fat man:

Fats Domino
» I'm Walking

I'm walkin'
yes indeed
I'm talkin'
'bout you and me
I'm hopin
that you come back to me
I'm lonley
As I can be
I'm waiting for your company
I'm hopin that you came back to me
What you gotta do when the well run dry
You gonna run away and hide
I'm gonna run right by your side
For you pretty baby I'd even cry
I'm walkin'
yes indeed
I'm talkin'
'bout you and me
I'm hopin
that you came back to me
I'm walkin'
yes indeed
I'm talkin'
'bout you and me
I'm hopin
that you came back to me
I'm lonly
As I can be
I'm waiting for your company
I'm hopin'
that you come back to me
What you gotta do when the well run dry
You gonna sit right down and cry
What you gonna do when I say bye bye
All you're gonna do is dry your eye
I'm walkin'
yes indeed
I'm talkin'
'bout you and me
I'm hopin
that you came back to me

Righty ho.....get yer skirts hoiked up, and put on yer dancing shoes.


N.B......Bangor is a seaside resort in Wales. Factory workers from the North west of England used to go there for a daytrip.

"A DAY TRIP TO BANGOR" (by Fiddlers Dram )

Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Bangor
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
And on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the whe-els went around

Do you recall the thrill of it all as we walked along the seaside
Then on the sand we heard a brass band that played Ta-Diddlely-Bump-Terrara
Elsie and me had one cup of tea then we took a Paddler boat out
Splashing away as we sat on the bay and the whe-els went 'round

Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Bangor
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
And on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the whe-els went 'round

Wasn't it nice, eating chocolate ice as we strolled around the fun-fair
Then we ate eels in big ferris wheels as we sailed around the ground but then
We had to be quick 'cause Elsie felt sick and we had to find somewhere to take her
I said to her lad, what made her feel bad was the whe-el going 'round

Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Bangor
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
And on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around

Elsie and me, we finished our tea and said goodbye to the seaside
Got on the bus, Flo said to us, oh isn't it a shame to go, and
Wouldn't it be grand to have cash on demand and to live like this for always
Oh it makes me feel ill, when I think of the mill and the wheels goin' 'round

I once posted a story about my visit to Wales but it was edited by the moderators.

I know.....I heard that you were almost baaaah'd!

ah, L.E. a lovely Bangor bit. I'll bet that was for me, since it had Flo in it. <smile>

Well, dys. Your trip to Wales won't get edited here, cowboy.

Here's a sad song for those who would like to be cheered up.



(Gilbert O'Sullivan)

In a little while from now,
If I'm not feeling any less sour.
I promised myself, to treat myself,
And visit a nearby tower ..........
And climbing to the top,
Would throw myself off,
In an effort to, make clear to whoever,
What it's like when your shattered .......
Left standing in a lurch,
In a church with people saying .....
My God, that's tough, she stood him up,
No point in us remaining .......
I may as well go home,
As I did on my own,
Alone again, naturally.

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay.
Looking forward to, and who wouldn't do,
The role I was about to play.
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around,
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces.
Leaving me to doubt, all about God and His mercy,
Oh, if He really does exist,
Why did He desert me?
And in my hour of need,
I truely am, indeed,
Alone again, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts,
Broken in the world that can't be mended,
Left unattended, what do we do?
What do we do?

Now looking back over the years,
And whatever else that appears.
I remember I cried when my father died,
Never wishing to hide the tears.
At sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn't understand why the only man,
She had ever loved had been taken.
Leaving her to start, with a heart so badly broken,
Despite encouragement from me,
No words were ever spoken.
And when she passed away,
I cried and cried all day,
Alone again, naturally .....
Alone again ................................. naturally.

Breaking news:

FULL COVERAGE: Israel
APSharon's surgeon stunned by swift progress
AFP - Wed Jan 11, 9:55 AM ET
JERUSALEM - Ariel Sharon's progress since his massive brain haemorrhage has stunned doctors but the Israeli premier still faces a long and rocky road to recovery, his chief neurosurgeon told AFP. Despite growing hopes among supporters that Sharon might still be able to lead his new Kadima party into March elections, the Argentine surgeon stressed it could take months to know if he would fully recover his faculties. "He is a very strong person. If someone had told me this was going to happen a week ago, I wouldn't have believed it," said Felix Umansky in an interview Wednesday.

Cor blimey, woz awl this abaht us Limeys not bein' able 2 'andle our own languidge. Our verbals mite gyt a bit mangled but wot comes aut of everyones norf an' souf an' lands up in yer china's king is all perfectly kosher froo aht the manor