Willow ,'Lies My Parents Told Me'
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Hey, all. Popping in to say hi. I've been computer-free this week -- only 1 and half day of temp work, and grindingly dull work at that, and no Net.
Sadness.
Grief!
A shower of tears like rain!
Or something. Anyhoo, just wanted to pop in really quick and look around. Anything exciting happen?
Hi Erin!
Nothing exciting has happened to me, and if I tried to recount otehr people's excitement I would surely forget to mention the most important things, so I will let someone else sum up.
The Philadelphia Museum of Art has a Whitman Sampler Collection. The things I learn from google.
And you have not truly lived until you have rented the RSC version and seen Hugh Jackman sing it, IJS.
Another bit of scrappy wisdom.
Oh What a Beautiful Morning is what I wake my kids with. Trust me on this, I don't do it quite so well.
My mother always sang, "Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning" to wake us up. I have no idea what it's from. My mother is a fount of obscure songs.
I think that's Irving Berlin, but I'm not sure. I know more of the words, though - 'Oh how I hate the bugle's call" ... something about killing the guy who waked the bugler up. My mother sang it, too.
eta: Yup, Irving Berlin [link] It appears my mother got the lyrics wrong, or the boy scouts did. This is probably what she sang [link] and I'm remembering it wrong.
Yes, it was from the war time movie. Very cute. I sing that one too. My children have to endure my singing on a regular basis.
My mother sang that one, too (the hate one).
I've taken a new tag from Irving Berlin. I don't know why I never thought to look up where that song was from before.
Mother always sang:
Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning!
Oh, how I'd love to remain in bed!
Ta da ta da
You've got to get up. You've got to get up.
You've got to get up this morning.
She apparently forgot the bugle part or thought it not relevant to the task of rousing us out of bed.
My mother did not sing to get us up. Her favorite trick was showing up in our bedroom with the vacuum on weekends. We had no curfews, but we were not allowed to sleep in -- had to appear at breakfast and face the parents.
My mother had a large repertoire of songs with which she woke me, though that song was not one of them.
Wow, Sparky, I think that policy might have led to me moving out at 18 - or younger. I'm so not a fan of the am, never have been.