One-Liner Wednesday. Hanging on the telephone.

After ringing and quequing to make an appointment ( for a telephone consultation, it’s like getting hen’s teeth to get an actual appointment) the One-Liner ” please hold your call is important to us, we will be with you as soon as a receptionist is free” repeated every sixty seconds really does not ring true.

It took one hour and fifteen minutes on two phones to get through!

Part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday.

Wordless Wednesday. Lilly.

© willowdot21

Canadian Genocide

SHAME. Yet no country in the world is innocent.

Colleen R. Jantzen

215 
Kamloops, British Columbia
CANADA

104 
Brandon, Manitoba
CANADA

38
Regina, Saskatchewan
CANADA

751
Cowessess, Saskatchewan
CANADA

35 
Lestock, Saskatchewan
CANADA

180
Carlisle, (Prince Albert) Saskatchewan
CANADA
...

(One would have been too many)

A voice 
Many voices
A Thousand voices
Thousands upon thousands of voices

Weeping for their children because they are no more 
Weeping for their children because they are no more 
Weeping for their children because they are no more 

 I am weeping for your children because they are no more 



View original post

COLLEEN’S 2020 WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 232, #SPECIFICFORM

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

It’s the fifth Tuesday of the month! This is our chance to work with a specific syllabic poetry form. But let’s do something different this time.

  • First, choose your favorite syllabic poetry form. Write your poem.
  • Next, give your poem some different characteristics to make it something different. You can change the syllable count, rhyme scheme (add or get rid of it), anything you want to create a new form. Write this poem.
  • Give your new syllabic poetry form a name.

I have chosen to do a cinquain. My twist is it rhymes on each line.

The American cinquain is an unrhymed, five-line poetic form defined by the number of syllables in each line—the first line has two syllables, the second has four, the third six, the fourth eight, and the fifth two (2-4-6-8-2). They are typically written using iambs.

I call my rhyming Cinquain a Ringquain.

© willowdot21 by hotpinkwellingtons.

Father to Son.

Wisdom
Father to son
Beauty of the heart won.
Love and guidance all mixed with fun.
Is done.

THIS IS PART OF COLLEEN’S TUESDAY TANKA.

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 364 TENDER and Who.

THIS IS PART OF RONOVANWRITE’S WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE.

Young tender flowers
who will argue with summer
Resplendent in bloom.

Ten years? Blogaversary.

🎂🍾🥂🌈🎊🎉🎈🎀🎁🎇🎆🎈🎊

© willowdot21

Look what popped up on my phone yesterday afternoon. I really was surprised. So cheers to each and every one of you that I have met on here. You are all true friends and great people.

🎂🍾🥂🌈🎊🎉🎈🎀🎁🎇🎆🎈🎊🎉

Tribute to an old Friend.

Today Mark Bialczak and Ruth both mentioned Paul Curran one of our dear departed and truly missed bloggers in the sky. Strangely I have been thinking of him on and off this week. He died in October 2016. Here is the obituary I wrote for him, followed by on of his if we were having coffee posts.

GONE TO LEAD THAT CONVOY IN THE SKY

Paul first appeared in my comments several years back. He was always full of wisdom and kindness. I was amazed at how interesting and honest his comments were. 

It was after one such wordy diatribe that I asked him why he did not have his own blog. He waffled on about lack of internet and a decent computer. After some discussion we decided he would contribute to, If We Were Having Coffee, every Sunday Morning on my blog.

Blow me down if he was not soon getting more traffic than my own version of If We Were Having Coffee!!! 

There was no way I could be really jealous though because whether it was a story from his trucking days or the people in and around his apartment block, or even  the people he met and helpped at the hospital he attended for dialysis it was a beautiful epistle or modern day fable. He was an angel, a knight in shining armour he helped so many. Paul helped me and gave me courage and so much strength.

Once Paul disappeared from our pages completely, I got in touch with Mark at markbialczak and then we put out an SOS then Linda G Hill who lives in Canada went round to his appointment and made sure he was okay… That is how much he meant / means to us!

Gone but not forgotten.

Your Barrista — Paul Curran.

Sad

image

I’m Paul your Barista

Welcome to Willow’s weekly coffee and tea garden. My name is Paul, I’ll be your barista today. I’m happy to see you have come for a cuppa and a chat. I am delighted to be back at Willow’s serving you, our treasured readers, a cuppa and sweets while we chat. Please come into the garden and make yourself comfortable. Willow fluffed the cushions on the chairs and set the tables in the garden so we can have a cuppa and chat as we soak up the sun and enjoy the beautiful plants. She has also brought out the heaters so we can stretch our outside tea time further into the fall. As usual, I’d be pleased to bring a pot of whatever beverage you prefer – we have a wide range of teas and coffees to satisfy our world-wide readership. Also available is a large selection of spirits for addition to your cuppa or in its place. We can relax amongst the flowers while we discuss the affairs of the week both personal and/or worldwide. How has your week been?

I have spent some extra time in the hospital this week. I have an infection that is related to my dialysis and it is proving difficult to address. We’re currently using intravenous antibiotics and have just added a round of oral antibiotics. The infection is under control but is not disappearing as quickly as the doctors would like. The initial visit entailed spending the night waiting in emergency – which then stretched well into the following day – actually about 3 pm before I got home – that’s a story. The antibiotics cause diarrhoea and so on the way home, I had to get off my handicap bus when he stopped to pick up another passenger. The bus would not wait, of course, so I called for another pickup and explained what had happened. They have a policy that they do not pick up after 2 pm for same day calls as it is their busy period – which left me stranded at a mall many miles from home. @#$%^&*! I ended up taking a taxi home. Oh well – insult to injury.

So, I’m limping around feeling bad for myself when my friend John (name changed) drops by to visit. He has picked up some TP and bread for me as I can’t get out – he is a kind soul and always asks if I need anything when he is out. He sits down with a serious face and tells me that he has just come from a meeting with his employer and they are putting him on medical leave. He has been diagnosed with testicular cancer. It is early days yet as the diagnosis just came Friday so much testing has yet to be done. He has honoured me by explaining that he hasn’t told family yet. I have had and beaten colon cancer and we talked about the emotions involved and options available.

I explained to him that I have been told that cancer treatment is very personal – everyone reacts differently. For me, the treatment was completely pain free. It was the side effects that really knocked me for a loop. There are days when I would not go through it again, and days when I would. Each time I consider it I come up with a different answer. My best advice to him was to take it one day at a time by asking himself:”Do I have what I need to get through today?” When the answer is yes, then proceed. In the end it is actually amazing how little we really need.

Suitcases and food

Would you like another cuppa? Perhaps a sweet? Anyway, we spent some time discussing this and John went to leave. He went out my back door which leads to a small private deck and a set of stairs down to the parking lot. Sitting on the deck were a suitcase, boxes and plastic bags. John asked if they were mine. I told him they were not, that I was surprised, and asked if they were there when he came in. He said they were. We checked out the suitcases and boxes and they were all canned food and pasta and pots and pans and cleaning supplies – almost all new. Even the suitcase looked new.

We carted the boxes, bags and suitcase inside. There were no personal clothes or goods with the shipment. Mysteriously, there was one small transparent clamshell fresh food container that had been scrubbed so clean as to appear brand new. Written on the tag was “”Deluxe Fruit Salad – Large” We checked through everything and found canned goods, cereal, some towels, pasts and the like. It’s all piled neatly on my floor now except for a big can of Puritan Beans and Wieners, a package of spaghetti and the mysterious clam shell – which are sitting here on my desk as I write.

After some discussion, John and I have come to the conclusion that one of our mutual friends – Frank – must have left the goods there. Frank is as mysterious as the clam shell. He has a room here in our complex but says he spends time at a rehab centre sometimes in Kingston – about a 2 ½ hour drive from here. One day he showed up at my door with the most delicious homemade soup that I have ever tasted – soup he made himself. Another day he dropped off two seemingly random used books – no explanation other than he thought I might like them. He asked me to help him one day with his computer – a used computer he had gotten as a gift. It worked fine but wouldn’t hook to the internet – we have cable here. I was able to determine that the problem was in the wiring in the wall, not the computer and he had the manager get it fixed. It was about that time that he started dropping off things.

Anyway, John went and peeked into Frank’s window and although the bed and dresser were there, all personal goods appeared gone. I’m not exactly sure what to do with all of Frank’s stuff. There are a few items, like partial boxes of cereal that I will have to eat. I suppose I’ll wait for a few weeks to see if Frank comes back.

On that note, that’s about all we have room for this week, so it’s time to settle in with another cuppa and enjoy the garden.  Sweets anyone? I hope you didn’t mind the story today, and that you found it a bit more positive than last week’s story. Please join me in thanking Willow for her invitation to tea. We are all happy that Willow is back and honoured that you all dropped by today to visit. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself and the conversation and please look around at Willow’s other posts while you’re here. Willow is over there serving her guests and chatting it up. Let’s go see how she is today. Have a great week. We look forward to seeing you back here for sweets and beverages of your choice again next week.

💜💜💜💜

I really miss Paul .

Pay It Forward

Coffee Break at Highway Service Plaza 

Paul Your Barista

This happened many years later when I was driving regional for a gas tanker company, hauling Super-B’s as pictured above. It was a good job but because people drove most on holidays – we always had to work. The pay was excellent – double time and a half on holidays – and the heaviest thing we lifted was one end of a hose. Besides the Super B’s were fun to drive at 80 feet long, 30 wheels on the ground, two trailers, weighing 140,000 pounds when loaded- that’s about the weight of two small houses. We could legally haul about 58,000 liters of gas (a little over 15,000 US gallons – or if you used 10 gallons a week, enough for 28 years). It was a scorching hot 100 degrees F at 7 pm when I finished loading at Suncor’s distribution center in Toronto and pulled out of the loading racks. The sun was just starting to lower itself in the sky on this July 1 Canada Day weekend. Standing in the air conditioned driver’s room signing my bills of lading fresh off the printer, I contemplated my log hours. I could see the heat waves rolling off the tanker outside the window, and unseen, the 58,000 liters of gas inside. I had lots of fuel aboard so I didn’t have to stop for that on the way to Ottawa but I would need coffee and cigarettes and a sandwich about the half way mark – perhaps Kingston. The service plaza off the 401 just before Kingston had all that and was easy to access with the truck.

Fuel Loading Racks

I swung up into the cab and noticed the A/C was starting to cool the air after being parked for an hour loading. Updating my log book, filling out paperwork and filing load sheets, I then pulled to the exit gate and waited for it to open, spitting my truck and me out onto the mean city streets. Winding the truck through the street lights and intersections, I eventually turned onto the Eastbound 401 highway entrance ramp. Accelerating up to the speed limit, I engaged the cruise control and relaxed in the air ride captain’s chair. The next time I slowed would be to stop for a break and a coffee at the Kingston service plaza three hours from now. The huge Super B was at its best in this world – moving 100,000pounds of gas along at 60 mph smoothly and steadily. Inertia was its best friend. I was along for the ride, just making sure nothing got in the truck’s way. The Jake Brake- an engine brake on large diesels- was even keyed into the cruise, making sure that the weight didn’t push the speed too high running off the hills.

14 lanes of traffic on highway 401 in Toronto Ontario Canada 

– Image ID: AN9YY3

14 lanes of traffic on highway 401 in Toronto Ontario Canada Stock Photo

Contributor: Bill Brooks / Alamy Stock Photo

The truck area was not well lit and I found myself thinking how brave she was to park in the dark where there was little help. By the time I had walked over she had parked as requested and I unlocked the idling truck, turning on the headlights. There were a few other trucks between us and the car area, so we were not visible to anyone else in the service plaza – thank God. I unscrewed her gas cap and looked inside with my flashlight – sure enough there was a spring loaded safety flap inside the neck of the fill pipe. I told her to stay beside her car while I opened the truck valve compartment and the storage compartment. I pulled out a new large red safety cone that had a hole in the small end – it would do for a funnel.. Putting on gloves I grabbed one of the 5 gallon steel drip pails we used under the valves when delivering, and filled it ¾ with high test gas – if I was going to give away gas, it might as well be the best. That would give her about 4 gallons of gas, plenty to get to town. Bringing the pail, a ground strap, a drip cloth, a new pair of gloves and the safety cone, I walked over to her car. I had also grabbed a big wire tie we used to secure connections when pumping. I stuck the wire tie in the tank neck to hold the safety open, placed the drip cloth on the ground and set the pail down while I clipped the ground strap (to stop any static sparks from igniting the gas when pouring it) to her car and the pail. Getting her to put on the gloves, I instructed her to hold the safety cone like a funnel, and I slowly poured the gas into her car. When we were done, we checked her gas gauge, which now showed ¼ full, removed the wire tie, replaced her gas cap, wiped the few drops from her car with the drip cloth and threw the equipment back into my storage compartment. She was quite amazed and asked how much she owed me. I told her it was free – I just asked that in the future if she found someone who could use help and she felt safe helping them that I would ask her to pay it forward. She commented that I could make a fortune here at this service plaza tonight – I told her to keep quiet, I could just envision a mob. And so we parted ways and I continued on to Ottawa not ever even having known her name or where she was going. As I drove I worried. Basically, I had stolen product from our customer – the gas was not mine to give away. Regardless of the reason or use, it was still stealing and I do not like that. Pondering this for the remaining three hour drive to Ottawa, I came up with a solution. When I pulled into the station to which I was delivering, it was 1:30 am and the site was open but with no customers. I grabbed the drip pail and ground strap and went over to the high test pump. I put the same amount of fuel into the pail from a pump and then went inside the station. I explained to the manager what I had done and told him I wanted to pay for the gas with my debit card, which I did, keeping the receipt. Then I took the pail of gas back over to the station’s fill pipes where I was delivering their gas, and again using the safety cone as a funnel, poured the gas I had paid for back into their storage tank. This effectively paid for the gas I had given the young woman in Kingston. I felt much better.

Delivery at night

Finishing up the delivery I returned to the terminal and closed off my shift. After the holiday I was off for three days and I dropped by the office to see terminal manager. I explained what had happened and that I couldn’t leave the young woman stranded and how I had paid for the gas I had given her in the parking lot. I showed him the receipt. My biggest concern was that someone may have seen us and thought I was stealing gas and giving it to friends. I assured my boss that was not the case. It was the only time I had ever done this. He just nodded – I could tell he was split in that it was dangerous to take a few gallons from a tanker (it is called splash loading and is illegal here – because the gas coming from the valve splashes into the gas already in the pail and creates static and potentially an explosion). On the other hand he had a young wife and sisters who were often getting into problems like running out of gas and he appreciated the fact that I helped such a person. He just thanked me for telling him and left it at that –no official positive reinforcement for stealing and breaking the rules but no remonstration for stealing and breaking the rules either. It was as I expected, which was fine.

Epilogue: Two months later I received a letter in my company mail – it congratulated me on being chosen the Sunoco driver of the month and said I could pickup my leather jacket and gift certificates from the manager. No reason was ever given for my selection. On that note, that’s about all we have room for this week, so it’s time to settle in with another cuppa and enjoy the garden. Sweets anyone? I hope you didn’t mind the story today, and that you found it a bit more positive than last week’s story. Please join me in thanking Willow for her invitation to tea. We are all happy that Willow is back and honored that you all dropped by today to visit. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself and the conversation and please look around at Willow’s other posts while you’re here. Willow is over there serving her guests and chatting it up. Let’s go see how she is today. Have a great week. We look forward to seeing you back here for sweets and beverages of your choice again next week.

Song Lyric Sunday: Time to eat.

It’s Sunday and I am late for Song Lyric Sunday! Jim Adams our host has a guest prompt from Paula Light of Light Motifs . Breakfast, Brunch, Dinner, Lunch, Snack, Supper.

Well what a great prompt, thank you Paula.

So I’ve chosen my favourite Breakfast song, Brunch song, Lunch song, dinner song and a supper song that could also be substituted for all meals mentioned plus afternoon tea! Plus a condiment for all occasions!

Breakfast in America by Supertramp. One of my favourite breakfast songs.

The inner sleeve of the 1979 Breakfast in America album lists one musician – Roger Hodgson or Rick Davies – as composer for each song. For the “Breakfast in America” title track, Davies alone is listed as composer and lyricist. However, the center label of the 12-inch vinyl disc credits all songs to both Hodgson and Davies.Similarly, on the vinyl single, it was credited to Hodgson and Davies.

Supertramp started performing the song during a reunion tour without Hodgson, Hodgson took credit for writing the song, telling reporters that Davies initially “hated” the song, and that he believed Davies did not play on the recording at all. However, in other interviews Hodgson has credited Davies with creating the vocalized retort line, “What’s she got? Not a lot.” Hodgson included the song in his 2010 world tour, produced as a live album titled Classics Live.

Written by Nigel Fletcher and Rob Woodward and first produced by them under the name of their other band, Stavely Makepeace.

Recorded in the front room of Woodward’s Coventry semi-detached house, it featured his mother Hilda Woodward on piano, in a boogie-woogiehonky-tonkragtime style. The only lyrics are the growled title “Mouldy Old Dough” and “Dirty Old Man” by Fletcher. When Fletcher asked what they meant, their author, Rob Woodward, said he had no idea.

Despite initial disapproval from their long-term manager and friend, David Whitehouse, they went ahead with its release. It is the only British number one single to feature a mother and son.[3]

Originally released in early 1972, it flopped on its first release. It was picked up in Belgium and used on a current affairs programme, and became a hit there, reaching number one in the Belgian singles chartDecca, encouraged by this success, re-released it and with the backing of then BBC Radio 1 DJ Noel Edmonds, it finally became a hit in the UK, spending four weeks at the top of the UK Singles Chart in October 1972. It sold 790,000 copies. In New Zealand, the song was number one for five weeks. The song also reached number one in Ireland and reached the Top 10 in Canada and Australia, but did not chart in the United States.

Brunch

“Mouldy Old Dough” (the title being an adaptation of the 1920s jazz phrase, “vo-de-o-do”) became the second biggest selling UK single of the year, behind The Band of the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards‘ bagpipe version of “Amazing Grace“.

The tune was also used by LOTTO New Zealand as a successful advertising routine.

As of April 2019, Hilda Woodward’s piano is an Exhibit at Coventry Music Museum, where other artefacts belonging to the band are also on display.

Hilda Woodward died, aged 85, on 22 February 1999. She was aged 58 at the time of “Mouldy Old Dough” topping the charts, which made her one of the oldest female artists to feature on a UK number one single.

Lunch

Life Is a Minestrone” is a 1975 song by 10cc released as a lead single from their third album, The Original Soundtrack. The track was written after Lol Creme and Eric Stewart were driving home from Strawberry Studios and a BBC Radio presenter said something that they only partly heard, but which Creme interpreted as “life is a minestrone”. Stewart and Creme believed the phrase to be a good title for a song on the grounds that life is, according to Stewart in a BBC Radio Wales interview, “a mixture of everything we pile in there”. They had the song written in a day.

“Life Is A Minestrone”

I’m dancing on the White House lawn
Sipping tea by the Taj Mahal at dawn
Hanging round the gardens of Babylon
Minnie Mouse has got it all sewn up
She gets more fan mail than the Pope
She takes the mickey out of all my phobias
Like signing cheques to ward off double pneumonia

Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold Lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze

I’m leaning on the Tower of Pisa
Had an eyeful of the tower in France
I’m hanging round the gardens of Madison

And the seat of learning
And the flush of success
Relieves a constipated mind
I’m like a gourmet in a skid row diner
A fitting menu for a dilettante

Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold Lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze
Love is a fire of flaming brandy
Upon a crepe suzette
Let’s get this romance cooking, honey
But let us not forget

Life is a minestrone
Served up with parmesan cheese
Death is a cold Lasagne
Suspended in deep freeze

Dinner

TV Dinners” is a song performed by American band ZZ Top from their 1983 album Eliminator. It was produced by band manager Bill Ham, and recorded and mixed by Terry Manning. The song is a simple, beat-driven tune with lyrics about pre-packaged, oven-ready meals. Released as a single, it reached #38 on the Billboard Top Rock Tracks chart. Robert Palmer recorded “TV Dinners” for his 2003 album Drive.

T V Dinners Z Z Top.

“TV Dinners”

TV dinners there’s nothin’ else to eat
TV dinners they really can’t be beat
I like ’em frozen but you understand
I throw ’em in and wave ’em and I’m a brand new man oh yeah!

TV dinners they’re goin’ to my head
TV dinners my skin is turnin’ red
Twenty year old turkey in a thirty year old tin
I can’t wait until tomorrow…. and thaw one out again oh yeah!

TV dinners I’m feelin’ kinda rough
TV dinners this one’s kinda tough
I like the enchiladas and the teriaki too
I even like the chicken if…. the sauce is not too blue.

And they’re mine, all mine, oh yeah
and they sure are fine.
Gotta have ’em
gimme somethin’ now.

Afternoon tea and all meals mentioned.

Toast : Streetband.

“Toast” is a song by Streetband, known for their lead singer Paul Young, released as a single from their debut album London in October 1978.

In a 1980 issue of Record Mirror, Young said that “on Sunday, people go out for a gig, but they don’t really act like they should be there. And ‘Toast’ was just something we did to turn their heads from the bar”. “We were in the studio getting a single together and, due to a complete cock up, we found ourselves with three hours free studio time.” Chaz Jankel “suggested that we record ‘Toast’ for the B-side.”

However, in 2011, Young said the lyrics “were made up on the night Chaz Jankel came to see us…and he was scheduled to produce us. Believe it or not, it all came about because we had a novice road crew and not one of them could change a guitar string. When the rhythm player bust a string, he went off to do it himself (at the John Bull pub in Chiswick) and the rest of the band started busking on ‘Lover‘, the jazz standard that I’d heard by Tony Bennett. So I wouldn’t be standing there like a plonker, I started scatting over the rhythm and arrived at the word ‘toast’ at the end of the chord sequence. It made sense, so I repeated that at the end of every chord sequence.” However, the lyrics are credited to Bernard Kelly, which Young explained, “we credited it to our manager as our publishing was frozen, and never saw a penny from it!” When performed live, sometimes the title was changed to ‘Tits’, with appropriately modified lyrics.

(yawn)
Morning all. I’d like to tell you about when I was a young boy. Musta been three or four months old at the time. I didn’t really know what I wanted, and if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to tell anybody, ’cause all I could do was gurgle. So I sat there in me high-chair, thinking one day, looking at me tray and thinking what I’d give for a meal on there. So I started looking round to see what I could have. I was rubbing me eggy soldier in me head, trying to think, and then I looked in the corner and there’s a little bread bin with its mouth open, just staring at me, like. And then I looked in and I saw bread.

I thought, oh yeah, I’ll have [toast],
A little piece of [toast].

Well, then I started getting older
I hated this, I hated that
Expensive state was ludicrous
And cafes couldn’t cater
For the finer things in life
The upper crust was not for me
I could tell that
So I’d go back home
Switch the kitchen light on
Put the grill on
Slip a slice under

And have [toast]
A little piece of [toast]

‘Cause there’s so much to choose from
There’s brown bread, white bread
All sorts of wholemeal bread
It comes in funny packages
With writing on the side
But it doesn’t matter which one you have
‘Cause when you cut the crusts off
Have it with marmalade
Or butter, cheese, tomatoes, beans, banana
Or chocolate if you’re strange
It doesn’t really matter

Oh no, it all goes with [toast]
Just [toast]

I’m gonna think about it some

boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo
boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo
boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo
boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo
boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo-boo

That’s [toast]
Mmm yeah
Just [toast]

That’s [toast]
Just [toast]

Well I go down the supermarket
With me basket in me hand
I’m walking from one counter to another
Trying to find the bread stall
But I can’t find it anywhere
And then I bump into a mother
With a baby in a basket
And she says

Oh look, you’ve started him off again
I come down here for a little bit of peace and quiet
To get some bread to go home to make [toast]

Just [toast]
I like [toast]

Yeah, but I don’t half like [toast]

OK, scrape that toast, boys

Good, that’s [toast]
Yeah, just [toast]

I can’t think about it any more. I’ve got to go and have some, it’s no good
Here listen, I’m getting a bit browned off standing here
Me too
Shall we go and have some toast?
Good idea
Why not?
OK
I’ve got the grill on
Got any brown bread?
Yeah
Have you got wholemeal bread? Wheatmeal bread? All sorts of toast
Let’s go

Something to accompany all meals.

The Ketchup Song (Aserejé)” (Spanish pronunciation: [aseɾeˈxe]) is the debut single by Spanish pop group Las Ketchup, taken from their debut studio album Hijas del Tomate (2002). The song tells the story of a rastafari-like Romani (afrogitano) with a special charm. In addition to the original Spanish version, the song exists in forms with Spanglish and Portuguese verses, although the nonsensical chorus is identical in all three versions.

“The Ketchup Song” was released on 10 June 2002 and became an international hit the same year. It reached number one in at least 20 European countries and became the best-selling hit of 2002 in seven of them. It also topped the music charts of Australia, Canada, and New Zealand but stalled at number 54 in the United States. As of 2006, the song had sold over 7 million copies worldwide. The song’s dance routine was a popular novelty dance in the early 2000s.

The Ketchup Song (Aserejé) (Spanglish Version)”

Friday night it’s party time
Feeling ready looking fine
Viene diego rumbeando
With the magic in his eyes
Checking every girl in sight
Grooving like he does the mambo
He’s the man alli en la disco
Playing sexy feeling hotter
He’s the king bailando el ritmo ragatanga
And the dj that he knows well
On the spot always around twelve
Plays the mix that diego mezcla con la salsa
Y la baila and he dances y la canta

Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi

Many think it’s brujeria
How he comes and disappears
Every move will hypnotize you
Some will call it chuleria
Others say that it’s the real
Rastafari afrogitano

He’s the man alli en la disco
Playing sexy feeling hotter
He’s the king bailando el ritmo ragatanga
And the dj that he knows well
On the spot always around twelve
Plays the mix that diego mezcla con la salsa
Y la baila and he dances y la canta

Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi

Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi
Aserejé ja de jé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva
Majavi an de bugui an de buididipi

HAPPY SUNDAY EVERYONE 💜

Info from Wikipedia.

Lyric from A to Z Lyrics.

http://www.songlyrics.com.

pensitivity101’s 3TC, #threethingschallenge

Di at pensitivity101 said : “Welcome to The Three Things Challenge.
Below are three things that may, or may not, be related. Simply read the prompt and see where your creativity takes you.
You can use one, two or all three words in your post, there are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre apart from keeping it family friendly.
You can use 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC as a tag and my logo if you wish.

Charlie’s dead
Prune your petticoat
Hide that slip
Only Jessabels
Show their underwear.

I saw the words today and immediately thought of my mum, she had a horror of any of us girls showing our underwear. She often referred to our petticoats as slips and often would say, “Hold on Charlie’s dead.”

I wrote a little Tanka in the shortened disapline of 3/5/3/5/5.

I believe the origin of the saying comes the time after King Charles ( a very snazzy and frilly dresser) was dead. The Puritans made everyone dress very plain and somberly… Frills and furbelows were frowned on. Hence if your pretty petticoat was showing you were a wanton hussy! So there you have it. “Charlie’s dead”

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 26, 2021

Hi everyone it’s Sunday and time for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Our host LindaGHill said:

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “up/down.” Use one, use them both, but try to put one in your first sentence. Bonus points if you use the other in your last sentence. Have fun!”

Photo by Sasha Kim on Pexels.com

Life is full of ups and downs, that’s just the way it is. In a way it’s like snakes and ladders.
We go along, up the ladders and down the snakes. We think we are finally doing well when out of the blue the fickle finger of fate comes down out of the sky, picks you up a drops you in a pit of grief.
When we marry we walk up the aisle with your Dad and you walk back down the aisle with your husband. Then you start the ups and downs of life and having children or not, yes life is up and down.
Up the stairs, down the stairs, uptown girl, downtown nights.
Then we have that old saying, turn the frown upside down. Okay I am rambling now so I am going to stop before I disappear down the rabbit hole. On the upside though I have just about scrapped through this post! So before my blood pressure rockets up or plummets down I shall stop. I shall leave you now with life is a rollercoaster. A rollercoaster goes up and down dosen’t it.

This is part of LindaGHill’s #SoCs.

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