Words of wisdom
As a rule, man is a fool.
When it’s hot, he wants it cool;
when it’s cool, he wants it hot.
Always wanting what it is not.
- Nat King Cole
As a rule, man is a fool.
When it’s hot, he wants it cool;
when it’s cool, he wants it hot.
Always wanting what it is not.
- Nat King Cole
June 6th, 2008 at 9:40 am
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
If you offer me pheasant I’d rather have grouse
If you put me in a house I would much prefer a flat
If you put me in a flat then I’d rather have a house
If you set me on a mouse then I only want a rat
If you set me on a rat then I’d rather chase a mouse
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
And there isn’t any call for me to shout it
For he will do as he do do
And there’s no doing anything about it!
The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore
When you let me in, then I want to go out
I’m always on the wrong side of every door
And as soon as I’m at home, then I’d like to get about
I like to lie in the bureau drawer
But I make such a fuss if I can’t get out
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
And it isn’t any use for you to doubt it
For he will do as he do do
And there’s no doing anything about it!
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast
My disobliging ways are a matter of habit
If you offer me fish then I always want a feast
When there isn’t any fish then I won’t eat rabbit
If you offer me cream then I sniff and sneer
But I only like what I find for myself
So you’ll catch me in it right up to my ears
If you put it away on the larder shelf
The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing
The Rum Tum Tugger doesn’t care for a cuddle
But I’ll leap in your lap in the middle of your sewing
For there’s nothing I enjoy like a horrible muddle!
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat
And there isn’t any need for me to spout it
For he will do as he do do
And there’s no doing anything about it!
June 6th, 2008 at 2:13 pm
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.