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Who's Colin Firth? Does he look anything like me? Well thanks, folks, for all your good wishes And all three from ladies - such dishes! And in six weeks or so Affection might grow As we drink fine Goose Island as if it were going out of fashion* *I just couldn't find a rhyme for L5 ;-) Richard English |
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RE,
I'm sorry I missed your big day But allow me to say it today I wish you no sickness in scrotum or dickness and hope your good wife shouts HOORAY! (You know I couldn't pass up the chance to talk about scrotii again!) Many happy and beer-filled returns of the day, RE, and I'm terribly sorry I was late in wishing it so. ******* "Show your true colors. Mine is Yellow." ~Big Bird |
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CW, that is wonderful!
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OMG!
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Those wishes from ladies (now five),
Have helped me, I say, to survive This birthday auspicious Which must be propitious For our meeting in some Real Ale dive. Richard English |
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In a pub we shall meet someday soon
Though I bet it will be way past noon We'll drink to our health and we'll wish for more wealth Just be sure not to act the Baboon. ******* "Show your true colors. Mine is Yellow." ~Big Bird |
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What's wrong with a drink before noon?
Even breakfast may not be too soon! A glass of Buck's Fizz Is rather a whiz, And helps start your day with a tune! And so far as my simian act Is concerned, let me say it's a fact That it's never been found That I monkey around -- Reputations should stay quite intact! Richard English |
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Oh, heck, we missed Jo's birthday, which was March 1st. Sorry, Jo, and especially since you've been ill. Therefore, my limerick will be more serious than usual:
We belatedly send you our wishes; How could we forget...we're dumb fishes? Happy birthday to you, And get thee well, too! We're emailing hugs and some kishes! Take care, Jo, and we're so sorry we missed your birthday. |
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Whoops!
Sorry we missed your birthday, jo. Happy belated birthday, anyway, jo, and get well soon! Come on you raver, you seer of visions, Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine! |
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Happy belated birthday, Jo - and a speedy recovery, too.
******* "Show your true colors. Mine is Yellow." ~Big Bird |
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Although Kalleh has mentioned celebrating Bob Hale's birthday in the Wordcraft gathering thread, those of us who couldn't make it to Chicago also pass on their best wishes for a happy birthday!
Yesterday (10th April) was also Cat's birthday! Many Happy Returns, Cat! Come on you raver, you seer of visions, Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine! |
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Happy birthday, CW and Bob!
—Ceci n'est pas un seing. |
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Thanks arnie
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Oh, it wasn't my bday, Z, it was Cat's - in the UK!
Happy Birthday my dear twin in Britain! I was able to with Bob HBD while he was here, and I sent you a big hug via Bob, so make sure he pays you! Sorry I missed the day, sweetie. ******* "Show your true colors. Mine is Yellow." ~Big Bird |
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Sorry about that CW and Cat. Happy belated birthday, Cat.
—Ceci n'est pas un seing. |
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Oh, darn, I missed Cat's birthday! How absolutely thoughtless of me. I am sorry. Please accept my apologies with this limerick:
Our Cat is another year older; I wish on the 10th I had told 'er: "Happy birthday, you cutie; You're smart...and a beauty!" Forgive me...without a cold shoulder? |
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Hehe - thanks Kelleh; what a fab limerick.
And thanks zmj and CW too. I wish I could've been at the convention, but alas money (or lack thereof) didn't allow it. Still, I'm looking forward to seeing all the photos |
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Happy Birthday, dear Cat.... (not CW)
Hope my English friend enjoyed a great day... I, too, look forward to all the Chicago antics... You are only as old as you think you are!! |
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Thanks
At the moment I think I'm 88, lol. But most of the time I'm young. I'll stay young, even as my body ages. Enough of my friends have been told to kick me up the backside if I start to get old-headed, lol. |
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Cat, what can I say? I'm a self-centred bugger who forgot your birthday even though you sent me a card AND it's the day after mine. Mea culpa. We'll have to think of a way I can make it up to you.
Far too late, happy birthday. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. Read all about my travels around the world here. Read even more of my travel writing and poems on my weblog. My new blog - which I hope to keep more up to date than my old one. And don't miss this - my unpublished book, coming a chapter a week |
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PS re staying young, if staying young means behaving like a six year old can I point out that on my birthday I was in a pub wearing bunny ears and reading an Alice In Wonderland Pop-Up Book while thanking Kalleh for the AiW cup and saucer she got me.
I just needed to be sat on the step outside with a bottle of Vimto for it to be perfect. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. Read all about my travels around the world here. Read even more of my travel writing and poems on my weblog. My new blog - which I hope to keep more up to date than my old one. And don't miss this - my unpublished book, coming a chapter a week |
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Bob, you are hilarious!
Can't say that I know what Vimto is, but I suppose that just points to my age. |
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Oh, Kalleh... just google it.
Vimto is Shlurple the Purple.. a juice drink made from grapes, raspberries and blackcurrants. It seems to be aimed at the kiddies.. How old is Bob now? |
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Ah, I well remember the days of my childhood when, while my parents were in the warmth of the public bar of the Golden Lion* drinking their mild (pint for Dad, half for Mom), I would sit outside on the step in the cold with my bag of crisps (the new-fangled ready-salted, not the old-fashioned ones with the little blue paper full of salt) and a bottle of Vimto...
...ah, happy days. (Actually, I'm not sure how I ever drank it. Nowadays I think it's a ghastly drink. Not as ghastly as Coke but ghastly enough.) *That was the old Golden Lion in Bradley, a Victorian pub with nice architecture that sadly was demolished in the late sixties or early sevnties and a new pub with the same name built on the site. The new pub was, and still is, a horrid seventies style shoe box shaped place with less architectural merit than the pile of rubble that the old pub was turned into and an interior that was perfectly horrible. I'm told it's recently been refurbished for the umpteenth time but as no previous refurbishment has significantly improved it I suspect this one won't either. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. Read all about my travels around the world here. Read even more of my travel writing and poems on my weblog. My new blog - which I hope to keep more up to date than my old one. And don't miss this - my unpublished book, coming a chapter a week |
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And, you poor thing, how old were you when your parents stopped leaving you on the steps and allowed you to come inside and have a mild with them? What is/was the legal drinking age in Britain? Those were the days, when the world was gentle enough that it wouldn't be seen as negligence to leave your kid sitting on the steps of a bar--though I think this practice is/was more common in Europe, right? My teetotaling Ohio parents never did it, but my husband's father would leave his sons and sometimes all four of his kids and his wife out in the car while he ran into the men-only bar for a cold one, or a "growler" to take home.
Wordmatic Ascriptivism is a viable alternative. |
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