domenica 3 giugno 2018

Sunday Morning.

Welcome back to life, unless you died overnight.
It seems I didn't, which is very good.
Well, you never know when your days are up, especially as you get a bit older.

Hang on, I'll translate that for Robert:
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts.


Today is a bit like Saturday because tomorrow is Queen's Birthday - a public holiday.
I hear that The Curmudgeon is bored out of his tree - HERE.

Notice that there is no The Curmudgeon in his tree.
He really needs to get a violin. I've been working on my tone.
It takes a while, but I'm making good progress.
I'm also memorizing those 24 tunes. I've just put the backing chord sequence to Oh Mio Babbino Caro to memory. I love that progression!

Today the double bass needs some work too - I'm playing a show in about a month's time.

Well, time to get on with things.
Enjoy your Sunday.
I'll finish on a visual joke.

"Tennis in." A little joke for Robert there - re poetry.




4 commenti:

Twisted Scottish Bastard ha detto...

You need to step up your game with humour Richard.
Day off tomorrow? So have I . . . for the rest of the year.

Richard (of RBB) ha detto...

But these were my best jokes...

Robert ha detto...

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts."
Robert fires a multiple rocket at TSB and takes him out.
All that remains is
Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts.

Twisted Scottish Bastard ha detto...

Multiple Rocket?

Which type?

MLRS?
70mm unguided?
LAW
Milan?Dragon?
3.5" ?

I do have some regard for Richard's friends and relations, but continually deleting posts, continuous references to mythical beings, and very bad poetry is pushing me to the limit.

Here's a quote from my Army days.

Fück off cüntface.