And when the night is cloudy,
There is a light that shines on me,
Shine until tomorrow, let it be.
That's as close to Catholic as you're going to get from me. Sorry.
10 July 2006
Cran Berry Sauce
by Frank Turk
And when the night is cloudy,
There is a light that shines on me,
Shine until tomorrow, let it be.
That's as close to Catholic as you're going to get from me. Sorry.
And when the night is cloudy,
There is a light that shines on me,
Shine until tomorrow, let it be.
That's as close to Catholic as you're going to get from me. Sorry.
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28 comments:
Thanks Frank! For some stupid reason, I now have the lyrics of Let It Be running through my head.
Huh?
Hey Frank,
Any one tell you you look like George Costanza from Seinfeld minus the sweat clothes?
Fred
Which one of you is married to Yoko?
Question: Are these things gonna show up autographed on Ebay after next March's Shepherd's Conference?
I thought this was going to be a recipe. I am so disappointed.
Oh... and is it "legal" to sell a cami to a woman with a bunch of pyro men pics on it?
Fred:
No one who has lived to tell about it.
[seinfeld]
By the way, the jerk store called ...
[/seinfeld]
_______________________________
Castus:
That's a trade secret.
_______________________________
Lisa:
No.
Buggy:
Here's the original Beatles album art:
http://www.globalpeacesolution.org/Portals/5/Repository/2/let.295c81f9-1a18-4166-9e82-a348a76e6b3e.jpg
You figure it out. Just don't tell Darlene.
Cran Bury Pecadillo.
Suddenly, you're not half the man you used to be.
So the cami's must be for the men... to wear with their kilts ???
Frank,
"Boy, you've got to carry that weight...carry that weight a long time."
In my more "Solameanie" moments, I change those lyrics to:
"Boy, you're going to fry in that lake, fry in that lake a long time."
Sometimes that isn't appreciated very much. :)
Hey, was with all the jabs at the fines piece of mens clothing ever created?
<-The new icon was my wedding 10 years ago
Ah, I see. Pec is the walrus.
Ummm... throw pillows? That will start some conversation in the family room.
Al sends
Frank,
I just returned from the long and winding road of the pampa yesterday... I had a ticket to ride but I drove. I think I could use some help! Oh and my comment... Huh?
Thanks Frank...anyway
Number nine.
Number nine.
Number nine.
Gee, I like you guys and all, but I tremble to imagine what people would think of me, a reputable home school mom, traipsing around with your mugs on my t-shirts. What would the neighbours think?
Yes... well... especially if it was a cami, Kim.
Can I get that printed on a bag?
Here come old flattop. He come groovin' up slowly. He got juju eyeball; he one holy roller. He got hair down to his knees. Got to be a joker; he just do what he please.
He wear no shoeshine. He got toe-jam football. He got monkey finger. He shoot coca-cola. He say "I know you; you know me." One thing I can tell you is you got to be free.
Pressingon
Unless one is a Beatles fan, this post shall ever remain mysterious. Many of the comments in the thread are snippets of lyrics from Beatles songs.
The title of the post is from the fading end of "Strawberry Fields Forever," where John Lennon utters the words "Cranberry Sauce" in such a way that many over the years misinterpreted them to be saying "I Buried Paul."
Centurion
BTW, "Mother Mary" is a reference to Paul's birth mother, not Jesus' birth mother. No Catholicism at all, I'm afraid.
Lisa:
A cami? Are you kidding? Since the brouhaha over my fitted tank top, I've taken to wearing only bag-like attire outside my home. I need one of those burkha thingies with the Pyros on it. That will ensure proper modesty.
IWT:
I am aware that Paul wasn't singing Catholic doctrine in this song, but the fact remains that many people hear their own Catholicism in his words.
Thus, my comment.
Someone call a press conference or something -- Johnson's gone soft on the bondage of the will.
Right Now. Over me.
I would chime in with the lyrics from Mean Mr. Mustard but that might get me in serious trouble, not to mention Polythene Pam. Perhaps I'd best let it be after all.
Tim Challies makes reference to "putting the fun in fundamentalism." I think little aside threads like this are illustrative of that noble concept. However, there is one problem. The fact that some here haven't the foggiest notion of what we're all talking about suddenly makes me feel very, very old.
Could someone mention Glenn Miller or Artie Shaw so this feeling becomes a transient one?
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