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11-08-2014, 03:11 AM | #1 |
Admiral Douchebag
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He's The Poet.....
...and he didn't even know it.
Have a great Birthday, Thomas.
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Thanks Dave, Julian, James, Kelly, Peter, Gerry, Dave, Mo, Frank, Týr and Mr. Mark! |
11-08-2014, 07:15 AM | #2 |
Dear Lord, Thank You.
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Re: He's The Poet.....
The world is made of sand and sea
Like the grains along a beach. The waters wash each grain away When the tides of time shall leach. So do not fret you left no mark When upon those grains of sand. For no one really changes them As they lie upon the land. The only thing that may be said Of your time, or you, or me; Is that we watched each tide come in And we did so happily. Happy Birthday, my friend.
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11-08-2014, 07:19 AM | #3 |
Have My Own Room
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Re: He's The Poet.....
Leaves of green plucked from the ground
Fermented and aged until they are brown Processed and rolled until they are round All to turn your frown upside down Happy Birthday! |
11-08-2014, 09:03 AM | #8 |
I'm nuts for the place
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Re: He's The Poet.....
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Happy birthday, Thomas.
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The problem is not the problem. The problem is your ATTITUDE about the problem. |
11-08-2014, 09:56 AM | #9 |
Resident Maduro Whore!!
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Re: He's The Poet.....
Happy B-Day Thomas!! Enjoy your day brother.
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Dom in the MLB thread "I could probably get you to wear a Yankee hat for a Maduro!" |
11-08-2014, 09:58 AM | #10 |
F*ck Cancer!
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Re: He's The Poet.....
So it's your birthday.
That reminds me of a joke about old people. Happy Birthday!
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Need Beads? Need Five Finger Bags? 2 of 3 Requirements for use of the CA Rolodex: 100 posts/ 60 day membership/ participation in trade (trader rating). New members can be added at any time. |
11-08-2014, 10:00 AM | #11 |
Bunion
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Re: He's The Poet.....
Happy Birthday, friend!
May today's coffee be strong and cigar inspired. And maybe a little Dylan Thomas: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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I refuse to belong to any organization that would have me as a member. ~ Groucho Marx |
11-08-2014, 05:06 PM | #12 |
Il megglior fabbro
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Re: He's The Poet.....
Thanks guys, and thanks for letting me play in your sandbox. I would reply in verse, but don't feel like working today.
Hell, honestly, I don't feel like working any day, thus my attraction to this sandbox.
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Ninety percent of everything is crap - Theodore Sturgeon. |