Quotes about nasal, page 5
How The Old Horse Won The Bet
DEDICATED BY A CONTRIBUTOR TO THE COLLEGIAN,
1830, TO THE EDITORS OF THE HARVARD ADVOCATE, 1876.
'T WAS on the famous trotting-ground,
The betting men were gathered round
From far and near; the 'cracks' were there
Whose deeds the sporting prints declare
The swift g. m., Old Hiram's nag,
The fleet s. h., Dan Pfeiffer's brag,
With these a third--and who is he
That stands beside his fast b. g.?
Budd Doble, whose catarrhal name
So fills the nasal trump of fame.
There too stood many a noted steed
Of Messenger and Morgan breed;
Green horses also, not a few;
Unknown as yet what they could do;
And all the hacks that know so well
The scourgings of the Sunday swell.
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Haunted By Tigers
NATHAN BEANS and William Lambert were two wild New England boys,
Known from infancy to revel only in forbidden joys.
Many a mother of Nantucket bristled when she heard them come,
With a horrid skulking whistle, tempting her good lad from home.
But for all maternal bristling little did they seem to care,
And they loved each other dearly, did this good-for-nothing pair.
So they lived till eighteen summers found them in the same repute,—
They had well-developed muscles, and loose characters to boot.
Then they did what wild Nantucket boys have never failed to do,—
Went and filled two oily bunks among a whaler's oily crew.
And the mothers,—ah! they raised their hands and blessed the lucky day,
While Nantucket waved its handkerchief to see them sail away.
On a four years' cruise they started in the brave old 'Patience Parr,'
And were soon initiated in the mysteries of tar.
There they found the truth that whalers' tales are unsubstantial wiles,—
They were sick and sore and sorry ere they passed the Western Isles;
And their captain, old-man Sculpin, gave their fancies little scope,
For he argued with a marlinspike and reasoned with a rope.
[...] Read more
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Train
Plastic brain scar
I want laser
I'm your chauffeur
With high gloss highs
Take you where you want
Can't stop, oh off the train
Train, yeah, yeah, yeah
Wolflady
Sucks my brain
Apricot
Sunrise came
L.A. nights
Just roll in
Can't stop, oh off the train
Train, yeah, yeah, yeah
Nasal douche
Poolside line
Softlit tan
What's your sign?
Hold my hand
[...] Read more
song performed by Goldfrapp
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pacman
(one, two, thray, four)
(one, two [nasal hocking sound])
I used to be a pinball freak
Thats where youd find me every week
But now its pacman
Yeah its the pacman
I love to gobble up those dots
Keep pumpin quarters in the slots
They call it pacman
Yeah its the pacman
At the game arcade, they say Im hard core
I can play all day til my hands are sore
And I quit my job just to play some more
But I wont give up til I break high score
Pacman [music from pacman intermission]
Well its the pacman
Yeah its the pacman
Well it takes a lot of cash to play
(pacman, get the cherry)
So Im gonna sell my house today
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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The Weird Al Show Theme
Oh, this is a story bout a guy named al
And he lived in a sewer with his hamster pal
But the sanitation workers really didnt approve
So he packed up his accordion and had to move
To a city in ohio where he lived in a tree
And he worked in a nasal decongestant factory
And he played on the company bowling team
And every single night he had a strange recurring dream
Where he was wearing lederhose in a vat of sour cream
But thats really not important to the story
Well, the very next year he met a dental hygienist
With a spatula tatooed on her arm (on her arm)
But he didnt keep in touch
And he lost her number
Then he got himself a job on a tator tot farm
And he spent his life-savings on a split-level cave
Twenty miles below the surface of the earth (of the earth)
And he really makes a might fine jelly bean and pickle sandwich
For what its worth
Then one day al was in the forest trying to get a tan
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song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Nobody Here But Us Frogs
Oh, Ive really got those ozone layer blues
From my elbow down to my shoes
So lets throw another fire on the logs
Now we can go downtown and fill the latrine
With genuine columbian lima beans
Dynastic and elastic, its all made out of plastic
Theres nobody here but us frogs
Id like to find a girl who really cares
About the size of my nasal hairs
She could feed bananas to the dogs
We could climb the church and look down from the steeple
Where all the ants look like people
Nutritious and delicious, its even surreptitious
Theres nobody here but us frogs
They say Im crazy
But I couldnt care less
Why dont they leave me alone
Cant they see that Im happy to be a psychiatrical mess
I get a thrill
Bein mentally ill, yes I do
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Funky
* {intro talking by ultra left out}
[kool keith]
I brought a band, sam is on trombone
He's blowin' hard, back-to-back notes, get with it
Take off your coat, meditate, let your brain compel
Just think as the beat excels to your eardrums
Cause cells to numb and freeze while i break off at ease
Real smooth, combined the piano
My voice nasal, no soprano is needed
To get overheated and burn while the technics' turn
For the u-l, the t, the r-uh-a
You got a copy? watch the record play
Bite more...spin it every day
You wake up and try to make up a rhyme that fear me
But let me tell you straight, i know you hear me
And when i'm on the stage you just cheer me up another level
Down below i'm throwin' with the devil in a cage
I'm on the rampage, you need a number? wanna know my age?
Psyche! i carry a magnum
Other groups - i only will rag them, and wait
[...] Read more
song performed by Ultramagnetic Mc's
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Four Snortets, A Parody With Fondness For Thomas Stearns Eliot
'Now we come to discover that the moments of agony...are likewise permanent with such permanence as time has...Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination-We had the experience but missed the meaning.' - from 'The Dry Salvages' by T.S. Eliot
1
Burnt Snortin'
Mister, or Sir, rather, Thomas Sterns Eliot left his evening door,
late middle age, having lived into the postmodern 'new' millennium,
having again reiterated his propounded new diet whereupon
wandering on a deserted shore near mumbling twilight one might
meet a most inarticulate soft peach or unutterable yet edible Christ,
or a close match, a little kidding, upon which we may, if we dare,
reiterative quartet playing plaintive though palliatively, dine four
squarely in Piccadilly sempiternal before getting sodden after
sundown, preferably on Friday, which is a good time to do it, to eat
and drink again, remembering that it is end of the week, out of the tube
finally unethered, trousers unrolled at last, the mission to get plastered,
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poem by Warren Falcon
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Dreams of Jhana
Thoughts travel
riding the ripples.
Pluvial pattering
innumerable
driblets fuse into
vast cyan-blue body.
Solemn reverie,
reflections by the water.
Coincidental myths?
Matter's solid illusion?
Propaganda spread
over Linear Time?
natural hidden treasures
lost in a darkened sub-region
of a mountain top Mind?
Pining amongst
heathers and lindens.
Nasal donations.
Sweet nosegays
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poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Inebriety
The mighty spirit, and its power, which stains
The bloodless cheek, and vivifies the brains,
I sing. Say, ye, its fiery vot'ries true,
The jovial curate, and the shrill-tongued shrew;
Ye, in the floods of limpid poison nurst,
Where bowl the second charms like bowl the first;
Say how, and why, the sparkling ill is shed,
The heart which hardens, and which rules the head.
When winter stern his gloomy front uprears,
A sable void the barren earth appears;
The meads no more their former verdure boast,
Fast bound their streams, and all their beauty
lost;
The herds, the flocks, in icy garments mourn,
And wildly murmur for the spring's return;
From snow-topp'd hills the whirlwinds keenly blow,
Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below;
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies;
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poem by George Crabbe
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