| Thread Review for Origin of Title (newest post first) |
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Lucy |
Posted on 2:02 pm on June 17, 2002 |
| (Girlish giggle) |
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chrisball |
Posted on 10:34 am on June 17, 2002 |
| My Flushed Lady . . .
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Kathryn |
Posted on 4:37 pm on June 16, 2002 |
| Now we know why it's so hot up there in the Upper Circle.
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Lucy |
Posted on 10:03 am on June 16, 2002 |
Well (bites lip) if you put it like that...(dramatic pause)...I guess I'll (everyone holds breath) stay! (applause) (she bows) (more applause)
P.S. Nicol...I confess the bit about Jon in the Upper circle was food for the imagination!
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nicol |
Posted on 9:24 am on June 16, 2002 |
But Lucy, I thought you'd be happy up there with Jonathan.
Don't stop posting. Your Forum need you
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chrisball |
Posted on 8:05 am on June 16, 2002 |
God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there
She is young
She's a maid,
Let her rest,
T'would be best.
Take her home
Take her home
Take her home.
She's like the girl I might have known
If I had never left my home.
The readers sigh
One by one
As emails fly
On and on
And I am bold
And must be gone
Bring her peace
Bring her joy
She is quick
And enjoys giving stick.
She can't take
But can give
Let her be
Let her live.
By the by, do not sigh
Let her live, take her home
With her tome
Take her home.
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Lucy |
Posted on 6:04 am on June 16, 2002 |
ME - Tell me quickly, what's the story?
Do you have to get so cross?
I was merely showing my love
For Sir Cam'ron Mackintosh.
For his great "Les Miserables"
Which you both think ripe to kill
With your dodgy rhyme and rhythm
From your grinding Poet's (?) mill.
YOU- But Lucy don't you see that we just wanted your
support?
We know we're both God awful and our stanzas
are too short.
ME - Well there's some thing's you can't take back
And I'm sad to say there's one.
You have hurt me with you jesting
And my rhyming days are done.
Take your mouse, post this board
Only then will I "de-sword".
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nicol |
Posted on 11:11 am on June 15, 2002 |
After all, Pickering
I'm a quiet message board
Unpretentious, conscientious, even tempered, nothing posh
A gentle scion of the empire of the sainted Mackintosh
An average board am I, �please no eccentric mice!
Do talk of Drury Lane, The Rain in Spain
Tell me which actor you think is best �- that's nice.
Just a quiet message board
BUT, Let a Lucy on the loose
Conversations lose the plot
She will hijack every thread
With her dreams of cast in bed
If you answer her she'll say
You're straying from the play. She's not?
Oh Let a Lucy on the loose
She'll have you up against a wall
Dressed in leather like Javert.
P'raps I'd better leave it there...
Now we're getting down to rhythm have to say her method isn't it at all.
You want to talk of My Fair Lucy?
She posts prolifically, but please!
Her scripts could be a lot more juicy,
And I've seen bees with better knees
Let a Lucy near your mice
And they'll foget how to play nice
Write a post and she'll attack
So you'd better watch your back
Now she's trying a rendition
Of the number 5 position
In the upper circle with Jonathan Pryce
(Edited by nicol at 4:34 pm on June 15, 2002)
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chrisball |
Posted on 6:39 am on June 15, 2002 |
I smell Lucy
Smell 'er in the air.
Has to give her tuppence
Even though nobody cares.
Lovely lady
Shame her rhythm's out.
Must have taken ages
Yet the words are laced with doubt.
Even writers need a little clout!
Lovely Lucy
Waiting for a bite
Wanting opportunities
That only come at night
Lovely Lucy
Waiting for Javert
Standing up or lying down
Alas he is not there
He's too busy chasing Jean Valjean . . .
Come here, my dear
Let's read this poem you write.
This Les Mis hell
Madame,. I'll sell it to you
I'll give you four.
That wouldn't pay for the ink.
I'll give you five. Your rhyme and rhythm quite stink.
It's up to you.
It's all I have.
That's not our fault.
Please make it ten.
No more than five.
My dear, we all must stay alive.
Lovely Lucy
Waiting in the wings
Ready for a Javert
Or a Jean Valjean to spring.
Long time, short time
Anytime my dear.
Cost a little extra if you want to wear your gear.
Quick and cheap it needn't take all year . . .
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Lucy |
Posted on 2:30 pm on June 14, 2002 |
There's a grief that can't be spoken,
There's a pain goes on and on;
'Cause your rhythm's pretty awful
And your rhyme has gone all wrong.
You see I'm glad you put the time in:
I will say it's not half-bad;
But if you'd like to stop with poems,
I think we'd all be glad.
Though it's all been quite amusing,
I confess I sing along;
But I think it's time you gave up,
And stopped disgracing my fave songs.
You see I think you've lost the plot now
Of what this forum's for.
Even I can't remember anymore!
Nicol and chris, my friends, please listen,
To what it is I have to say?
God I hope we turn out friendly,
But this time you've got to pay!
You see it's fine for My Fair Lady.
Lerner and Loewe can take it well;
But when it comes to "Miserables"
Well you all can go to hell!
Oh my friends, my friends don't ask me
Why you'd want to waste your time
I'd never do something as stupid
As to try to talk in rhyme.
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chrisball |
Posted on 11:49 am on June 14, 2002 |
Nicol, you're late.
What's wrong today?
You look as if you've sent a post.
Don't whine, just say what's going on.
A post you say, a post maybe.
It looked just like a post to me,
Your words perfectly matched the song.
Do you hear the frenchmen sing?
Singing the song of angry men?
It is the music of a football side
Who just got beat again.
When the beaten team depart
Then England's fans will beat the drum.
There is a cheer about to start
When tomorrow comes.
Will you watch us stuff the Danes?
Who will be watching ITV?
I'd rather watch the whole match
On the good old BBC.
Cos Lineker, Schmeichel and Hansen
Beat Lynam hands down!
Do you hear the Scotsmen sing?
They seem to have turned rather mute.
Is it because the tartan army failed
To get out of their group?
Hear the English voice rejoice,
As the Welsh dragons are struck dumb
But they'll support Sven Goran's boys
When tomorrow comes!
(Edited by chrisball at 11:52 am on June 14, 2002)
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nicol |
Posted on 7:25 am on June 14, 2002 |
I am agog, I am aghast
This board is going down hill fast
Debating whether Frenchmen ooh and aah
I've never put it to the test
Can't stand the garlic on their breath
But thinking leather, I'd say Cantona
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chrisball |
Posted on 7:55 pm on June 13, 2002 |
And the there's Jacques Chirac . . . He's hardly an oil painting either.
You just can't beat an eloquent Englishman. Take David Beckham for example . . .
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Lucy |
Posted on 1:20 pm on June 13, 2002 |
| Gerard Depardieu (I think that's how you spell it ) is french. I can't imagine letting him 'score'!
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chrisball |
Posted on 1:16 pm on June 13, 2002 |
He might have a big coat and be pantless whilst he swings his cudgel, but can he play football? (Judging by his national side, the answer is a resounding "no".)
Who ever heard of a frenchman who couldn't score?
He he he he . . . .
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mmebahorel |
Posted on 6:54 pm on June 12, 2002 |
| You guys are awful. But just remember, with Javert, that big coat means he doesn't have to be wearing any pants (I know this from experience) *g*
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Lucy |
Posted on 3:54 pm on June 12, 2002 |
| It's something to do with the leather boots and his rather large cudgel (said in all innocence ) If it's flower girls you're after there's two very nice ones (if not slightly old) in Covent Garden today!
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chrisball |
Posted on 11:39 am on June 12, 2002 |
| There's something about flowergirls that usually makes me wilt, but with Eliza there's something else. I couldn't comment on Javert, although I've heard that he is a bit of a disciplinarian.
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Lucy |
Posted on 3:58 pm on June 11, 2002 |
| You naughty boy! I won't even start on Javert!!
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chrisball |
Posted on 7:01 am on June 11, 2002 |
| I must stop fantasising . . .
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