October 01, 2005
when the frost is on the pumpkin!
from one monkey to another,
when the weathers hot and sticky
it's not the time for dunkin dicky
but when the frost is on the pumpkin
now thats the time for dicky dunking.
whats your fall quote?
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Careful, it's slippy.
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Depends on how heavy they are.
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"Winston Churchill had a speech imp-p-pediment, and look what he did--- erased half of London." ---Tempo House, Mark E. Smith wrong Fall?
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The frost will bite us soon, His tooth is on the leaves." -- John Davidson, "Harvest Home Song"
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The pumpkin is a werewolf.
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I hate pumpkins. Useless ugly vile vegetable.
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I love pumpkins. They make a great pie, and the seeds, toasted, make a great snack. Very healthy too. Supposedly helps prevent prostate cancer. And they also make great sex toys.
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Oh, those seductive pumpkins.
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it's not the time for dunkin dicky? It's always the time for dunkin dicky!
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"That autumn eve was stilled. A last remains of sunset dimly burned O'er the far forests,--like a torch-flame turned By the wind back upon its bearer's hand In one long flare of crimson; as a brand, The woods beneath lay black." - Robert Browning
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"O Great Pumpkin, why hast thou forsaken me?!" -Linus Van Pelt
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I awoke today and found The frost perched on the town It hovered in a frozen sky Then it gobbled summer down When the sun turns traitor cold And shivering trees are standing in a naked row I get the urge for going But I never seem to go --Joni Mitchell
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Pumpkin pie. Mmmmhhh.
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Did someone say pumplin pie? Ah, 'tis the favorite kind of I! Away with that gelatined strawberry! Coconut creme is also dreary! For twenty miles I'd stroll with glee if a pumpkin awaited me.
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Fall is the sigh of the high season The days go short and abort your reason The darkness looms and the trees subsume The marketers rally and tally your room Not enough stuff, you don't got enough Winter's comin in and it's dark as sin The cold is a bitch, so we'll make our pitch You'll be warmed if conformed
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Whoa.
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Well the frost is on the pumpkin And the hay is in the barn An pappy’s come to rambling on Stumbling around drunk Down on the farm And the walking man walks Doesn’t know nothing at all Any other man stops and talks But the walking man walks on by Walk on by -James Taylor, "Walking Man"
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...if a pumpkin awaited me ACH! SOME MISCREANT STOLE MY PIE DAMMIT!
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mmmmmmmmmm pie.
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When come back bring pie! wanker
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Please sit down, Pete. You may have a large slice of some of GramMa's home baked punkin pie flavored with cinnamon and nutmeg and topped with a big scoop of real whipped cream AFTER your English lesson. Just because you're Monkey, or because your upset about pie, is no reason not use proper English. *swallows saliva, dives into pie* Halloween Mac Hammond The butcher knife goes in, first, at the top And carves out the round stemmed lid, The hole of which allows the hand to go In to pull the gooey mess inside, out - The walls scooped clean with a spoon. A grim design decided on, that afternoon, The eyes are the first to go, Isosceles or trapezoid, the square nose, The down-turned mouth with three Hideous teeth and, sometimes, Round ears. At dusk it's Lighted, the room behind it dark. Outside, looking in, it looks like a Pumpkin, it looks like ripeness Is all. Kids come, beckoned by Fingers of shadows on leaf-strewn lawns To trick or treat. Standing at the open Door, the sculptor, a warlock, drops Penny candies into their bags, knowing The message of winter: only the children, Pretending to be ghosts, are real.
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...flavored with cinnamon and nutmeg... *drowns in own drool*
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Sonnet LXXIII W. Shakespeare That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.