Year end lists… well, then how about movies???

narrated by pfiore8

here it is… Clement Clarke Moore’s The Night Before Christmas

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Hey, we’re back with the final version of Docudharma’s 12 Days of Christmas. Most of the lyrics have come from Rusty1776 and On The Bus. If you have lyrics, leave them in the comments… so please join in!!! But first, I’m re-posting Frank Kelly’s 12 Days of Christmas because I think it’s just hysterical. I’m laughing as i try to embed this… really and truly… this is great.

This is a call to all those who lurk around the Pony Parties… welcome! and please feel free to say hello. go ahead and leave a comment. be silly or serious. be profound or profane. just don’t recommend this pony party…

Tonight, I wanted to post this comment from ek hornbeck… it’s a wonderfully written short short short story. I didn’t want it to get lost, so enjoy it…

My ego and I sit in the bars… (2+ / 0-)

have a drink or two… play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they’re saying, “We don’t know your name, mister, but you’re a very nice fella.” My ego and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We’ve entered as strangers – soon we have friends. And they come over… and they sit with us… and they drink with us… and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they’ve done and the big wonderful things they’ll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to my ego… and he’s bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that’s envy, my dear. There’s a little bit of envy in the best of us.

Well, maybe one more…this gem from a new poster (and former lurker???), Faber…

In my time zone… (4.00 / 9)

…the solstice comes at 10:08 PM tomorrow, in the midst of all the fizzle-and-bang of cultural convention.  We have lived for uncounted millions of years beneath the recurring circles of this particular sky; whether we choose to surface the fact to ourselves or not, we have evolved internal representations of them, deeper than words go.  The longest darkness, in which things quicken that will manifest as the days lengthen again…  We are equipped to know, without the news reaching us over the problematical, uncertain road from an imagined Jerusalem, that this is our time for birthing gods.  

Might I crave your indulgence and bring, to this party, one particularly starchy old red tomcat?  He really doesn’t get out enough, and I’ve a notion it would do him good.  

by: Faber @ Thu Dec 20, 2007 at 19:35:27 PST

from Greyhawk’s essay The news of the recent White House fire isn’t the first time an area near and dear to national security went up in flames shortly after a judge ruled against Cheney’s log privilege. from buhdy…Chuck Schumer: Senators were too quick to accept the nominees’ word that they would respect legal precedents, and …

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note: let’s try this one again…

It’s the time of year… we look upward for a sign

Maybe it’ll be this year… we’ll find what we’ve always been looking for.

We lay there & looked up at the night sky and she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls and I told her I’d never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.”

^{Brian Andreas, Blue Squares}