Is Brexit actually going to happen?
- Thread starter Kaka Tim
- Start date
butchersapron
Bring back hanging
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.
Puddy_Tat
naturally fluffy
Pickman's model
Starry Wisdom
danny la rouge
More like *fanny* la rouge!
Highcough
Fuck up
Near enough
Near enough
butchersapron
Bring back hanging
Frostrup
mojo pixy
שיר חדש
...Come and choose wrong, they cry, come and choose wrong;
And so we rise. At night again they sound,
Calling the traveller now, the outward bound:
O not for long, they cry, O not for long -
And we are nudged from comfort, never knowing
How safely we may disregard their blowing,
Or if, this night, happiness too is going.
And so we rise. At night again they sound,
Calling the traveller now, the outward bound:
O not for long, they cry, O not for long -
And we are nudged from comfort, never knowing
How safely we may disregard their blowing,
Or if, this night, happiness too is going.
Pickman's model
Starry Wisdom
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Brexit should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
butchersapron
Bring back hanging
Imagine, housewives voting
Libertad
Sparking up a rollie in the Reichstag
Tbh it's all so juvenile I'm getting AA Milne earworms now
...and all sorts of funny thoughts run round in my head,
'It isn't really anywhere, it's somewhere else instead'
Citizen of nowhere.
mojo pixy
שיר חדש
We were somewhere around Brexit on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive. . . .” And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”
Then it was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest, to facilitate the tanning process. “What the hell are you yelling about?” he muttered, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with wraparound Spanish sunglasses. I hit the brakes and aimed the Great Red Shark toward the shoulder of the highway. No point mentioning those bats, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough.
Project Fear and Loathing.
Then it was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest, to facilitate the tanning process. “What the hell are you yelling about?” he muttered, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with wraparound Spanish sunglasses. I hit the brakes and aimed the Great Red Shark toward the shoulder of the highway. No point mentioning those bats, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough.
Project Fear and Loathing.
Yossarian
⏭️
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Brexit Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
sleaterkinney
Well-Known Member
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, white, blue, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With blue ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, white, blue, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full,
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With blue ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.
Pickman's model
Starry Wisdom
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Do you recall the thrill of it all as we walked along the sea grand
Then on the sand we heard a brass band that played the Diddlely-Bump-Terrara
Elsie and me had one cup of tea then we took a Paddler boat out
Splashing away as we sat on the bay and the wheels went 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Wasn't it nice, eating chocolate ice as we strolled around the fun-fair
Then we ate eels in big ferris wheels as we sailed around the ground but then
We had to be quick 'cause Elsie felt sick and we had to find somewhere to take her
I said to her lad, what made her feel bad was the wheel going 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Elsie and me, we finished our tea and said goodbye to the seaside
Got on the bus, Flo said to us, oh isn't it a shame to go
Wouldn't it be grand to have cash on demand and to live like this for always
Oh it makes me feel ill, when I think of the mill and the wheels goin' 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around.
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Do you recall the thrill of it all as we walked along the sea grand
Then on the sand we heard a brass band that played the Diddlely-Bump-Terrara
Elsie and me had one cup of tea then we took a Paddler boat out
Splashing away as we sat on the bay and the wheels went 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Wasn't it nice, eating chocolate ice as we strolled around the fun-fair
Then we ate eels in big ferris wheels as we sailed around the ground but then
We had to be quick 'cause Elsie felt sick and we had to find somewhere to take her
I said to her lad, what made her feel bad was the wheel going 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around
Elsie and me, we finished our tea and said goodbye to the seaside
Got on the bus, Flo said to us, oh isn't it a shame to go
Wouldn't it be grand to have cash on demand and to live like this for always
Oh it makes me feel ill, when I think of the mill and the wheels goin' 'round
Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to Brexit
A beautiful day, we had lunch on the way and all for under a pound you know
But on the way back I cuddled with Jack and we opened a bottle of cider
Singing a few of our favourite songs as the wheels went around.
gentlegreen
I hummus, therefore I am ...
I have a bastard earworm now [emoji14]
Ditto.
mojo pixy
שיר חדש
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Brexit's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
/alltooobvious
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Brexit's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
/alltooobvious
SpookyFrank
A cheap source of teeth for aquarium gravel
Honestly you leave this thread for five minutes and it turns into undergrad english lit 
Last edited:
SpackleFrog
Smash showy bell-bottom pants and sporty haircuts
Honestly you leave this thread for five minutes and it turns into undergad english lit
Undergad. Eee gads!
Pickman's model
Starry Wisdom
have a pity likeHonestly you leave this thread for five minutes and it turns into undergad english lit
Honestly you leave this thread for five minutes and it turns into undergad english lit
Is Brexit really doing this to people here then??
steeplejack
trapped lbw for a duck
what the fuck, this thread's turned into a 2002-style lyric posting thread with Johnny Canuck3 having just snorted a whole bag of amphetamine
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