Ah yes, i have heard about America's love of the sausage.
They are especially popular in New Yawk. Sawww-sauges, Sawww-sauges, Sawww-sauges!
Oy vey!
What Song Are You Listening To, Right Now?
- Thread starter charver
- Start date
They are especially popular in New Yawk. Sawww-sauges, Sawww-sauges, Sawww-sauges!
Oy vey!
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BB King / Gary Moore - The Thrill is Gone
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqAuuIDU2sw"]YouTube - BB King / Gary Moore - The Thrill is Gone[/ame]
[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqAuuIDU2sw"]YouTube - BB King / Gary Moore - The Thrill is Gone[/ame]
The Anonymous
Bag On My Head
charver
You lookin' at my pint?
Good Morning.
Reasons to be cheerful this day include -
Dick had gone a surfing in the sea, probably after a hard days sweeping chimneys and feeding pigeons, fell asleep on his surfboard and woke up in international waters. Luckily a party of porpoises pushed him back to shore.
Dick: "Oh, don't talk to me about hemispheres. You little buggers can master the art of choreography, but fall asleep on a surfboard in the ocean and where the fuck are you then, eh? I hope you all get eaten by sea-lions. Wankers."
About time the porpoise came out of the long shadow cast by its beaky cousin, the dolphin. Oh yes, everybody wants to go and swim with the dolphins. Everyone wants to hear the clicking of the glorified fish as they whore themselves out for fistfuls of sardines. People love to watch the fecking dolphins communicate the facts of a potential life threatening situation to a marine warden and his annoyingly ginger son thereby preventing a tragedy, don't they? The humble porpoise just keeps itself to itself and "doesn't like to talk about it".
What do you fools know about the purpose of the porpoise, eh? I bet you think it's just a little dolphin don't you...er...well you're probably correct. Although i have to say, even after reading the porpoise wiki page, i am still in the dark as to whether the porpoise has one of those prehensile, gripping wangs what the dolphins have got. I can't help feeling a pang of regret, and not a little frustration, that our own evolutionary path took a detour at this particular junction.
Well, Dick will certainly remember the porpoise. Thanks porpoises.
'Dick Van Dyke' - Violet Violet
Reasons to be cheerful this day include -
- The fact that it is a Friday, the second bestest day of the week.
- The fact that Zephyrus' futile attempts to blow a tree down on one's head has ended in complete failure (Apparently mythical Greek gods of the west wind don't like you "looking at wor lass" in the lounge bars of public houses).
- The fact that the latest meeting of the internationalist fascist dining club, some say G20, have agreed to avoid a "currency war" (Apparently that term sounds a lot more exciting than it actually is. I mean, we cannot deny that we'd all likely gather round to witness the Vietnamese Dong charging headlong into the Costa Rican Colon).
- And, perhaps most importantly, the fact that magical-nanny fucking, cockerney accent mastering, crime-solving medical-doctoring, Dick Van Dykes has been rescued by porpoises.
Dick had gone a surfing in the sea, probably after a hard days sweeping chimneys and feeding pigeons, fell asleep on his surfboard and woke up in international waters. Luckily a party of porpoises pushed him back to shore.
Dick: "Oh, don't talk to me about hemispheres. You little buggers can master the art of choreography, but fall asleep on a surfboard in the ocean and where the fuck are you then, eh? I hope you all get eaten by sea-lions. Wankers."
About time the porpoise came out of the long shadow cast by its beaky cousin, the dolphin. Oh yes, everybody wants to go and swim with the dolphins. Everyone wants to hear the clicking of the glorified fish as they whore themselves out for fistfuls of sardines. People love to watch the fecking dolphins communicate the facts of a potential life threatening situation to a marine warden and his annoyingly ginger son thereby preventing a tragedy, don't they? The humble porpoise just keeps itself to itself and "doesn't like to talk about it".
What do you fools know about the purpose of the porpoise, eh? I bet you think it's just a little dolphin don't you...er...well you're probably correct. Although i have to say, even after reading the porpoise wiki page, i am still in the dark as to whether the porpoise has one of those prehensile, gripping wangs what the dolphins have got. I can't help feeling a pang of regret, and not a little frustration, that our own evolutionary path took a detour at this particular junction.
Well, Dick will certainly remember the porpoise. Thanks porpoises.
'Dick Van Dyke' - Violet Violet
charver
You lookin' at my pint?
Well, what great news emanates from our chocolate box paradise of princesses, fairy-tale castles and fire-breathing dragons (sorry, Camillas). Royal weddings ahoy. The heavies from the Franklin Mint and the Tea-towel mafia have finally pressured Prince Williams into wedlock. I gather Americans are aware of this fact as, this morning, i had the misfortune to see yesterday's Good Morning America announcing the coming nuptials to the sound of a bloody trumpet fanfare.
Now, don't get me wrong, i wish Prince Williams and Kate Middletons all the best with their marriage and that, however, i am less impressed by the ridiculous press reaction.
There is nothing like a Royal event to transport the press corps of the United Kingdom back to the halcyon days of 1910. The imminent bankruptcy of Ireland and the government paying off British residents of Guantanamo Bay with millions of lovely English pounds, be damned. What the country was clamouring for was a helicopter beaming live pictures from Buckingham Palace and a serious of forlorn reporters outside the palace gates telling us how great this news was.
Cut to a reporter outside the bride's parents house (or the bottom of their very long drive to be precise) to tell us they were "thrilled", fancy that, eh? Interviews with royal correspondents regaling us with wonderful insights into Kate's thoughts "she'll certainly be thinking about a dress, Jeremy". Back to the reporter outside the palace to give us the latest - they are still getting married. Not content with that we went over to Camp Bastion in Afghanistan, for no discernible reason, to talk to a soldier who had met Prince Williams last week (he was "thrilled" and "delighted"). More aerial pictures of the roof of Buck House and more analysis of the blue-blooded Prince's decision to marry a "commoner". "Kate's mother was an air hostess, you know" (they are also millionaires) and this gives "hope to the middle classes that anyone can become a princess in modern Britain". How enlightened.
Apparently, this news will "lift the country's spirits in a bleak economic climate". Or, most people don't really care that much about it apart from the media and hoteliers.
One sniff of crown polish and the press turn into the fawning simpletons of yesteryear craving the touch touch of royalty to cure them of their ailments.
Still, we may get an extree Bank Holiday next year. What a wonderful institution the Royal family is.
'Royally Used' - Sons and Daughters
Now, don't get me wrong, i wish Prince Williams and Kate Middletons all the best with their marriage and that, however, i am less impressed by the ridiculous press reaction.
There is nothing like a Royal event to transport the press corps of the United Kingdom back to the halcyon days of 1910. The imminent bankruptcy of Ireland and the government paying off British residents of Guantanamo Bay with millions of lovely English pounds, be damned. What the country was clamouring for was a helicopter beaming live pictures from Buckingham Palace and a serious of forlorn reporters outside the palace gates telling us how great this news was.
Cut to a reporter outside the bride's parents house (or the bottom of their very long drive to be precise) to tell us they were "thrilled", fancy that, eh? Interviews with royal correspondents regaling us with wonderful insights into Kate's thoughts "she'll certainly be thinking about a dress, Jeremy". Back to the reporter outside the palace to give us the latest - they are still getting married. Not content with that we went over to Camp Bastion in Afghanistan, for no discernible reason, to talk to a soldier who had met Prince Williams last week (he was "thrilled" and "delighted"). More aerial pictures of the roof of Buck House and more analysis of the blue-blooded Prince's decision to marry a "commoner". "Kate's mother was an air hostess, you know" (they are also millionaires) and this gives "hope to the middle classes that anyone can become a princess in modern Britain". How enlightened.
Apparently, this news will "lift the country's spirits in a bleak economic climate". Or, most people don't really care that much about it apart from the media and hoteliers.
One sniff of crown polish and the press turn into the fawning simpletons of yesteryear craving the touch touch of royalty to cure them of their ailments.
Still, we may get an extree Bank Holiday next year. What a wonderful institution the Royal family is.
'Royally Used' - Sons and Daughters
Lady Antebellum's Christmas cd is fabulous!
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I know, I should go post some on your thread! he he! Sorry, darlin!Oh, thanks a lot. I'll never going to catch up now.
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signalmankenneth
Verified User
Randy Crawford Knockin on Heavens Door
[video=vimeo;3222088]http://vimeo.com/3222088"[/video]
[video=vimeo;3222088]http://vimeo.com/3222088"[/video]
Smooth, thanks
Minister of Truth
Practically Perfect
Katy Perry - Firework
charver
You lookin' at my pint?
Good Morning.
For the first time in couple of weeks the little minus sign sitting in front of the temperature gauge has made its excuses and gone back to its day job as a hyphen. And all our snow has gone with it overnight. It is almost as if somewhere, by some means, the evil curse of a once scorned princess has been broken and winter has, once more, been banished from this fair land.
Townspeople strive to cast out evil stepmother from cursed realm.
Yesterday, our elected Members of Parliament voted to slash university funding by 80% and triple tuition fees. As you can imagine, this didn't go down too well with A) People who are going to have to pay it; and B) The people who voted for a party who signed a pledge to scrap tuition fees before the general election only to see that party provide enough votes to treble them.
Cue a small riot. Anarchists and nutters turned up once more to hijack a mostly peaceful student demonstration to throw all manner of heavy objects at the police and pointlessly smash some rather nice windows. Surprisingly, the Metropolitan Police refrained from actually killing anyone on the streets of London this time, despite their best efforts to coral crowds and then charge them with horses. Particular praise must go the policeman who set about a chap with cerebral palsy with his baton for needlessly cluttering the place up in his wheelchair.
However, most of the attention has been focussed on the heinous attack on Prince Charlies and Camillas. They were on their way to the annual Royal Variety Performance when their car was vandalised as it sat in traffic. In many ways you would have thought a shouty angry mob banging on your car was preferable, and considerably more musically pleasing, than the promised acoustic stylings of Jamie Cullums and Susan Boyles.
Many of the papers were outraged this morning, speculating what might have occurred if this wasn't an angry mob of scruffy herberts but a passing Al-Qaeda sleeper cell and the pot of paint that was thrown on the royal Rolls Royce wasn't white emulsion but a powerful explosive device. This is such a ridiculous line of 'what if's' we may equally ask - 'Would this have happened if government scientists had invested Prince Charles with the power to morph into a giant robotic tortoise at will?' (the answer is no btw)
Anyway, from what i can gather, the sight of several strapping young chaps descending upon Prince Charles of an evening, a look of menace in their eyes, with the sole intent to smash in his back doors, likely brought back fond memories of Gordonstoun school.
'Survival Car' - Fountains of Wayne
For the first time in couple of weeks the little minus sign sitting in front of the temperature gauge has made its excuses and gone back to its day job as a hyphen. And all our snow has gone with it overnight. It is almost as if somewhere, by some means, the evil curse of a once scorned princess has been broken and winter has, once more, been banished from this fair land.
Townspeople strive to cast out evil stepmother from cursed realm.
Yesterday, our elected Members of Parliament voted to slash university funding by 80% and triple tuition fees. As you can imagine, this didn't go down too well with A) People who are going to have to pay it; and B) The people who voted for a party who signed a pledge to scrap tuition fees before the general election only to see that party provide enough votes to treble them.
Cue a small riot. Anarchists and nutters turned up once more to hijack a mostly peaceful student demonstration to throw all manner of heavy objects at the police and pointlessly smash some rather nice windows. Surprisingly, the Metropolitan Police refrained from actually killing anyone on the streets of London this time, despite their best efforts to coral crowds and then charge them with horses. Particular praise must go the policeman who set about a chap with cerebral palsy with his baton for needlessly cluttering the place up in his wheelchair.
However, most of the attention has been focussed on the heinous attack on Prince Charlies and Camillas. They were on their way to the annual Royal Variety Performance when their car was vandalised as it sat in traffic. In many ways you would have thought a shouty angry mob banging on your car was preferable, and considerably more musically pleasing, than the promised acoustic stylings of Jamie Cullums and Susan Boyles.
Many of the papers were outraged this morning, speculating what might have occurred if this wasn't an angry mob of scruffy herberts but a passing Al-Qaeda sleeper cell and the pot of paint that was thrown on the royal Rolls Royce wasn't white emulsion but a powerful explosive device. This is such a ridiculous line of 'what if's' we may equally ask - 'Would this have happened if government scientists had invested Prince Charles with the power to morph into a giant robotic tortoise at will?' (the answer is no btw)
Anyway, from what i can gather, the sight of several strapping young chaps descending upon Prince Charles of an evening, a look of menace in their eyes, with the sole intent to smash in his back doors, likely brought back fond memories of Gordonstoun school.
'Survival Car' - Fountains of Wayne
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Good Morning.
For the first time in couple of weeks the little minus sign sitting in front of the temperature gauge has made its excuses and gone back to its day job as a hyphen. And all our snow has gone with it overnight. It is almost as if somewhere, by some means, the evil curse of a once scorned princess has been broken and winter has, once more, been banished from this fair land.
Townspeople strive to cast out evil stepmother from cursed realm.
Yesterday, our elected Members of Parliament voted to slash university funding by 80% and triple tuition fees. As you can imagine, this didn't go down too well with A) People who are going to have to pay it; and B) The people who voted for a party who signed a pledge to scrap tuition fees before the general election only to see that party provide enough votes to treble them.
Cue a small riot. Anarchists and nutters turned up once more to hijack a mostly peaceful student demonstration to throw all manner of heavy objects at the police and pointlessly smash some rather nice windows. Surprisingly, the Metropolitan Police refrained from actually killing anyone on the streets of London this time, despite their best efforts to coral crowds and then charge them with horses. Particular praise must go the policeman who set about a chap with cerebral palsy with his baton for needlessly cluttering the place up in his wheelchair.
However, most of the attention has been focussed on the heinous attack on Prince Charlies and Camillas. They were on their way to the annual Royal Variety Performance when their car was vandalised as it sat in traffic. In many ways you would have thought a shouty angry mob banging on your car was preferable, and considerably more musically pleasing, than the promised acoustic stylings of Jamie Cullums and Susan Boyles.
Many of the papers were outraged this morning, speculating what might have occurred if this wasn't an angry mob of scruffy herberts but a passing Al-Qaeda sleeper cell and the pot of paint that was thrown on the royal Rolls Royce wasn't white emulsion but a powerful explosive device. This is such a ridiculous line of 'what if's' we may equally ask - 'Would this have happened if government scientists had invested Prince Charles with the power to morph into a giant robotic tortoise at will?' (the answer is no btw)
Anyway, from what i can gather, the sight of several strapping young chaps descending upon Prince Charles of an evening, a look of menace in their eyes, with the sole intent to smash in his back doors, likely brought back fond memories of Gordonstoun school.
'Survival Car' - Fountains of Wayne
Just a few facts about tuition fees, the new level of charges in 2012 are £6000 and £9000 for the likes of Oxbridge et al. The Brown report, that's John Brown ex-BP and not Gordon, was initiated by the previous Labour government who would have no doubt implemented them without all the caveats in the present legislation.
Anyone on £21,000, the new threshold for payment, will actually pay significantly less than now. Finally it was Labour that introduced tuition fees in the first place, after realising that their stated goal of having 50% of people in higher education was totally unaffordable. The decision to convert so many former polytechnics into universities was fundamentally flawed and we are now reaping the whirlwind from that piss poor decision in the nineties.
christiefan915
Catalyst
I know this is a big problem now in the UK but I was astounded when I read the tuition rates you posted. Those are annual fees, not including room and board?
The annual tuition for our top school, Harvard, is 22,501.07 GBP and that doesn't include room, board, books and living expenses.
The annual tuition for Univ of Pgh., a state school, is 8,906.40 GBP, again not including room, board, books and living expenses.
I should send my kids to England for college!