Quizzes & Puzzles19 mins ago
I'm Beginning To Wonder What Country I Live In.
117 Answers
In the mail there is an article about cutlery. We are being racist if we eat with a knife and fork. We should use our fingers. What on earth is going on!!
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A Buenchico was in his companye;/An AB Chris was in his company;
Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye./White was his beard, as the Daisy.
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn./Of his complexion he was ruddy.
Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn./Well loved he in the early morning, a sop in wine.
To liven in delyt was ever his wone,/To live in delight all night was ever his wont,
for he was Epicurus owne sone,/For he was Epicurus' (or perhaps the Ab Editor's) own son,
That heeld opinioun, that pleyn ladi delyt/Who held the theory, MamyaLynne that complete delight
Was verraily felicitee paryft./Was verily perfect Bolton felicity.
A householder, and that a greet, was she;/A householder, and a great one, was she;
Seint Mozz was in his contree./Saint Mozz he was in his country, not knowing where he lived.
His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;/His bread, his ale, were always equally good - hic was his other name;
A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon./A more envied man was nowhere found, other than some welshman called ynna.
With-oute bake mete was never his hous,/Without meat pie was never in his house, ynna had eaten it
Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous,/Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous, jno had been to ye fish-market
It snewed in jno's hous of mete and drinke,/It snowed in her house of meat and drink,
Of alle deyntes that wimmen could thinke./Of all dainties that jno could think of.
After the sondry seasons of the yeer,/According to the various ummm seasons of the year,
So chaunged she his mete and her soper./She varied his meat and his supper - ynnafymmi kernackered.
Ful many a fat partrich hadde Nuenchico in mewe,/Full many a fat partridge Chris had in coop,
And many a breem and many a daw in stewe./And many a bream and many a Jackdaw in pond and coop
Wo was their cook, but-if his sauce were/Woe to their cook, unless their sauces were
Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al ther gere, sum Plimouth wench as cookie but nae the wyn or wat lass be cookin, some lady ready to ass an win too/Poignant and sharp, and ready all their carvers, Pasta en pointe, Lady CG ready to ask what's fer dinner and yer wine
Chris's table dormant in his Soffuck halle alway/His table stationed in his Suffolk hall always night or day
Stood redy covered al the longe AB day an burp o'er this waste nae AB Scots lass tae accept, all sorts to yon chippie/Stood ready set all the day long (yawn for the Mod) - the ABers ready to stuff their tiny faces, nae waste if minty or anneasquith have their way, deep-fried and Mars Bars away.
Whyt was his berd, as is the dayesye./White was his beard, as the Daisy.
Of his complexioun he was sangwyn./Of his complexion he was ruddy.
Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in wyn./Well loved he in the early morning, a sop in wine.
To liven in delyt was ever his wone,/To live in delight all night was ever his wont,
for he was Epicurus owne sone,/For he was Epicurus' (or perhaps the Ab Editor's) own son,
That heeld opinioun, that pleyn ladi delyt/Who held the theory, MamyaLynne that complete delight
Was verraily felicitee paryft./Was verily perfect Bolton felicity.
A householder, and that a greet, was she;/A householder, and a great one, was she;
Seint Mozz was in his contree./Saint Mozz he was in his country, not knowing where he lived.
His breed, his ale, was alwey after oon;/His bread, his ale, were always equally good - hic was his other name;
A bettre envyned man was no-wher noon./A more envied man was nowhere found, other than some welshman called ynna.
With-oute bake mete was never his hous,/Without meat pie was never in his house, ynna had eaten it
Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous,/Of fish and flesh, and that so plenteous, jno had been to ye fish-market
It snewed in jno's hous of mete and drinke,/It snowed in her house of meat and drink,
Of alle deyntes that wimmen could thinke./Of all dainties that jno could think of.
After the sondry seasons of the yeer,/According to the various ummm seasons of the year,
So chaunged she his mete and her soper./She varied his meat and his supper - ynnafymmi kernackered.
Ful many a fat partrich hadde Nuenchico in mewe,/Full many a fat partridge Chris had in coop,
And many a breem and many a daw in stewe./And many a bream and many a Jackdaw in pond and coop
Wo was their cook, but-if his sauce were/Woe to their cook, unless their sauces were
Poynaunt and sharp, and redy al ther gere, sum Plimouth wench as cookie but nae the wyn or wat lass be cookin, some lady ready to ass an win too/Poignant and sharp, and ready all their carvers, Pasta en pointe, Lady CG ready to ask what's fer dinner and yer wine
Chris's table dormant in his Soffuck halle alway/His table stationed in his Suffolk hall always night or day
Stood redy covered al the longe AB day an burp o'er this waste nae AB Scots lass tae accept, all sorts to yon chippie/Stood ready set all the day long (yawn for the Mod) - the ABers ready to stuff their tiny faces, nae waste if minty or anneasquith have their way, deep-fried and Mars Bars away.
and pished as a proverbial too - pished enough to write all that garbage A Level English teachers have orgasms over and even an ijiut like me can 're-write' though Chris has played his part.....
I wonder what their champion pigeons were called - 'Xin Ji Pigeon,'
'Eet Mi Flied' perhaps - or 'Bat Li Bummer'?
I wonder what their champion pigeons were called - 'Xin Ji Pigeon,'
'Eet Mi Flied' perhaps - or 'Bat Li Bummer'?
-- answer removed --
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