Showing posts with label Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brown. Show all posts

Monday, 27 July 2009

Brown's New Look.

"The Prime Minister's dentist is believed to be Mervyn Drurian, of the exclusive London Centre for Cosmetic Dentistry in Hampstead, north London, but he was the soul of discretion when Mandrake called. If it is the case that Brown has become a grinder, then Drurian is likely to recommend an occlusal splint, which Brown would have to insert into his mouth at bedtime. The device tends to make the wearer look a bit like Hannibal Lecter, but it does protect the teeth from wear and reduce jaw muscle activity, and – good news for Sarah, perhaps – the noise of teeth grinding."

H/T Events dear boy, events.

Saturday, 6 June 2009

65 YEARS.


For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

**********************************************************

I cannot pretend to feel impartial about colours. I rejoice with the brilliant ones and am genuinely sorry for the poor browns.

Sir Winston Churchill

But there's no one to check

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