| whore rhymes with more, or? be strong in whore, burn him up, Galli-Leore |
[Sep. 23rd, 2011|12:42 am] |
PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?
TIMON
Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,
Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear
Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths,
I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;
And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,
Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs
With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd,
No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still;
Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,
A pox of wrinkles!
PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
Well, more gold: what then?
Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.
TIMON
Consumptions sow
In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
That he may never more false title plead,
Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
That scolds against the quality of flesh,
And not believes himself: down with the nose,
Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
Of him that, his particular to foresee,
Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
ruffians bald;
And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
Derive some pain from you: plague all;
That your activity may defeat and quell
The source of all erection. There's more gold:
Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
And ditches grave you all!
PHRYNIA TIMANDRA
More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.
TIMON
More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.
ALCIBIADES
Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:
If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.
TIMON
If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. |
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| obižannih v Vaķikan! |
[Sep. 23rd, 2011|12:47 am] |
i fire you
i need no sword
i fire you fall
these are but words |
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| dis kittehs a sikh puppy, automaķ zanogu |
[Sep. 23rd, 2011|05:42 am] |
né, nu izej tu ciléx dzimtajå pilsétá mazliet péc 2iem pameklét dzîviuzdzîvi un atron tumshu tuxshu chaulu.
vecpilséta neskaitås, tur mana séta sen beigusies. rajonchikå uz notikumiem uzprasîties prasa milzîgus matrijåltechniskos resursus, ursa majør bin laden vashømammå.
kaut kå jau es pie notikumiem tiku, lai gan lietderîgåk bütu bijis divrichot uz pljavniekiem-13 un tur no kreisås dabüt ar saskanjas centru pa pieri.
tagad man ir tikai splésta kurka, divas dzeltenås kartîtes un izdzerts pat kefîrs ar citramønu.
vél tikai dziesma par jånîsha nerimtîgo automåtu, un tad jau spīdēs patiesība rītrīta zelta zobu mutē:
beware of teh gay amoured armoured kittahs |
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