LongElegantLegs
Since Feb 19, 2005
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29 y/o married female with 5 kids. I don't feel guilty about racism because I know that I am not a racist. What does that say about you? And now, for the good stuff! Some people just cant get over their hatred for dogs. ~Samogon ...your blind animalist idolatry... ~ RachelFaith
Farewell Peace Farewell, Peace! Another crisis calls us to "the last appeal," History spreads her page before us, Time unrolls his ample scroll; Sons of Freedom! Brave descendants from a race of heroes tried, Come then, War! With hearts elated to thy standard we will fly;
Trust the fangs of the mother-wolf, and the claws of the lead-ripped bear; But oh, of the wiles and the gold-tooth smiles of a dance-hall wench beware!<[>
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
My opinion (worth everything you pay for it!) is that pit bulls are more dangerous than a similarly-sized dog of a more gentle breed. They are massive, powerful, and have the terrier drive. I think that an unintended consequence of being bred for gameness created a certain reluctance to give themselves over whole-heartedly to human beings. Now that they are fashionable dogs, clueless people buy them and expect them to be happy with the normal sort of human-dog interaction that most dogs thrive on. A pit bull will get bored, and even though it may adore its owner and never exhibit signs of aggression towards them, it will try to find a way to fulfill its instinctual urges. Of course, all dogs do this. A retriever can fulfill himself playing fetch, a herding dog can chase cars...But there is nothing a pit bull can do by itself to approximate a bloody fight thats not going to result in tragedy. The way to give a pit bull an outlet is to get him into weight pulling. It fulfills his need for battle. Its not hard to get into, and you dont have to compete, you just have to invest in some equipment and a few hours every night. Are alot of people willing to do this? No. They treat the dog like a chihuahua or a lab and then are shocked when he tears apart the neighbors cat, or dog, or child. Too many pit bull apologists spend all their energy defending the breed as gentle, loveable little fuzzballs without acknowledging that this is NOT a backyard breed, not a dog for the sedentary, or irresponsible, and not a dog to be taken lightly.
Dorothy Dix, January 15th, 1941
I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die... -Anonymous
The consideration which many purchase by living beyond their income, and of course living upon others, is not worth the trouble it costs. The glare there is about this false and wicked parade is deceptive; it does not procure a more valuable friends(sic), or extensive influence. More than that, it is wrong-morally wrong, so far as the individual is concerned; and injurious beyond calculation to the interests of our country. A multitude of causes have no doubt tended to increase the evil; but the root of the whole matter is the extravagance of all classes of people. We shall never be prosperous till we make pride and vanity yield to the dictates of honesty and prudence! -Mrs. Child, The American Frugal Housewife
This Nature teaches best the nursing tribe: Let her our mistress be; and when, with cries The hungry child demands his due supplies, Forbear not you the wish'd relief to bring; Nor then be loath your snowy breast to bare, That he may suck, and streaming fragrance share.
Knitty > Women need to wear more hats.
Explanation of my screen name so people don't think I'm a hoochie.: I'm 72 inches tall; Well, technically, 71 and five eighths. Most clothing stores only sell longer inseams with bigger waists; This means that I am forced to either buy ungodly expensive clothing online, or wear mens' jeans. To make up for all the money I waste, I ripped off the name of my favorite clothing store for my screen name.
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside; But the shebear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail, For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it as he can; But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws. 'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale, For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away; But when the hunter meets with husband, each confirms the other's tale- The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise. Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe. Mirth obscene diverts his angerl Doubt and Pity oft perplex Him in dealing with an issue-to the scandal of The Sex!
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same; And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail, The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.
May not deal in doubt or pity-must not swerve for fact or jest. These be purely male diversions-not in these her honour dwells. She the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else.
And the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate! And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him who denies- He will meet no suave discussion, but the instant, white-hot, wild, Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.
Speech that drips, corrodes, and poisons-even so the cobra bites, Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw, And the victim writhes in anguish-like the Jesuit with the squaw!
With the fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands To some God of Abstract Justice-which no woman understands.
Must command but may not govern-shall enthrall but not enslave him. And She knows, because She warns him, and Her instincts never fail, That the Female of the Species is more deadly than the Male
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here." The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die, I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I: O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away"; But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play, The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play, O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me; They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls, But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls! For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside"; But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide, The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide, O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap; An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit. Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?" But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll, The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll, O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you; An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints, Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints; While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind", But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind, There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind, O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational. Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace. For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!" But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot; An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please; An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees! Ive embroidered a frock Ive patched a torn garment Why stitching brings gladness But for little hopes baffled Tango's Favorite Kong recipes: Cheese & Dog food
THE BALLAD OF THE HARP-WEAVER "There's nothing in the house "There's nothing in the house That was in the early fall. "Little skinny shoulder-blades "It's lucky for me, lad, That was in the late fall. I couldn't go to school, "Son," said my mother, And, oh, but we were silly A-rock-rock-rocking But there was I, a great boy, Men say the winter A wind with a wolf's head All that was left us The night before Christmas And in the deep night I saw my mother sitting Looking nineteen, Her thin fingers, moving Many bright threads, And gold threads whistling She wove a child's jacket, She wove a red cloak She wove a pair of breeches She wove a pair of mittens, She sang as she worked, There sat my mother A smile about her lips, And piled up beside her Despair - man's surrender. Laughter - God's redemption |
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