Won
A
Car.

Of course I'll have to have a tow bar fitted so that we can tow a trailer with the kids in. . .








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The sky grey dark and the wind howled,
Down through the dim mountain valleys.
The road through the pass was narrow and stony,
Beset with dangers and haunted with fears.
Along that road stepped a solitary man,
Quickly, lightly, with dust on his feet.
A Sufi’s cloak, hem frayed with wear,
A staff, as weathered and hard as his face.
Down from the mountains he came,
Down to the sea and the waves.
Down the road to Djibouti,
With a treasure in his heart and his purse.
Well hidden it was in his robes,
Not gold, or gems or precious oils.
Small red berries of nature’s delight
In his robes, well hidden from sight.
Baba Budan it was, who strode to the sea,
With his hidden beans and the treasure in his heart.
There at the port he boarded a dhow,
And left the land of the Negusa Negast.
“Qahwat” his mind sang with the sea,
“Qahwat al-bÅ«nn” his heart pounded with the waves.
Wine of the bean, the sacred drink,
From Ethiopia’s most rugged heights.
There in the stony ground of Yemen,
He planted the seeds of the future.
There grew coffee away from its home,
And began anew its story.
From this time and from this place,
It crossed the world entire.
Growing only where the poorest live,
A treasure carried by one man.
1 Ceiling Cat iz mai sheprd (which is funni if u knowz teh joek about herdin
catz LOL.) He givz me evrithin I need.
2 He letz me sleeps in teh sunni spot an haz liek nice waterz r ovar thar.
3 He makez mai soul happi an maeks sure I go teh riet wai for him. Liek thru teh cat flap insted of out teh opin windo LOL.
4 I iz in teh valli of dogz, fearin no pooch, bcz Ceiling Cat iz besied me rubbin' mah ears, an it maek me so kumfy.
5 He letz me sit at teh taebl evn when peepl who duzint liek me iz watchn.
He givz me a flea baff an so much gooshy fud it runz out of mai bowl LOL.
6 Niec things an luck wil chase me evrydai an I wil liv in teh Ceiling Cats houz forevr.
He came as a baker; but owned, when too late-
And it drove the poor bellman half mad-
He could only bake bridecake - for which, I may state,
No materials were to be had.
I came as the baker on this escapade,
I knead the dough, but I can't look after the bread,
The banker does it instead,
And although I never feel afraid,
Somehow I know
It could be the single worst mistake I've ever made,
To come as the baker on this escapade.
(Carroll/Batt)




Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.
