Maggie’s Funny & awesome pics, vids and memes thread (work safe, no nudity)

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A little twist on Kipling in the morning...

The Young British Soldier​

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When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
So-oldier of the Queen!

Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day,
You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay,
An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may:
A soldier what's fit for a soldier.
Fit, fit, fit for a soldier . . .

First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts,
For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts -
Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts -
An' it's bad for the young British soldier.
Bad, bad, bad for the soldier . . .

When the cholera comes - as it will past a doubt -
Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout,
For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out,
An' it crumples the young British soldier.
Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier . . .

But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead,
An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
Fool, fool, fool of a soldier . . .

If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind,
Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind;
Be handy and civil, and then you will find
That it's beer for the young British soldier.
Beer, beer, beer for the soldier . . .

Now, if you must marry, take care she is old -
A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told,
For beauty won't help if your rations is cold,
Nor love ain't enough for a soldier.
'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier . . .

If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
To shoot when you catch 'em - you'll swing, on my oath! -
Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .

When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,
Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,
Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck
And march to your front like a soldier.
Front, front, front like a soldier . . .

When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch,
Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch;
She's human as you are - you treat her as sich,
An' she'll fight for the young British soldier.
Fight, fight, fight for the soldier . . .

When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine,
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line,
Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine,
For noise never startles the soldier.
Start-, start-, startles the soldier . . .

If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .

When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
So-oldier of the Queen!
 
Ok just a suggestion….don’t do a Detroit in anything you’re gonna drive on slick roads. Do a Tru-Trac. Carry on “carrier of dreams”.
But I like the way they clunk-around when you let off the accelerator and get back on the accelerator.
Definitely not a piece of gear for an inexperienced driver.


















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Chickens are raptors and will select bugs/mice way before plants.

Sorry for being serious.

Bugs eat plants. Mice eat seeds and bugs. Chickens eat mice bugs and seeds.

Plant-based meat!

Go far enough down the food chain and we are plant based meat. Just reprocessed a few times.

Remember that when the apocalypse happens and we are eating vegans. They are really just naturally processed plants and will be fine with the right spices and a balanced side diet of dandelion greens and wild grapes.

Sirhr
 
Bugs eat plants. Mice eat seeds and bugs. Chickens eat mice bugs and seeds.

Plant-based meat!

Go far enough down the food chain and we are plant based meat. Just reprocessed a few times.

Remember that when the apocalypse happens and we are eating vegans. They are really just naturally processed plants and will be fine with the right spices and a balanced side diet of dandelion greens and wild grapes.

Sirhr
 
One of the best scenes out of the movie, "The Paths of Glory."



I don't speak German but I believe this is the best translation for the lyrics.

A faithful soldier, without fear,
He loved his girl for one whole year,
For one whole year and longer yet,
His love for her, he'd ne'er forget.

This youth to foreign land did roam,
While his true love, fell ill at home.
Sick unto death, she no one heard.
Three days and nights she spoke no word.

And when the youth received the news,
That his dear love, her life may lose,
He left his place and all he had,
To see his love, went this young lad...

Oh mother, bring forth a light,
My darling dies, I do not see,
That was indeed a faithful hussar,
He loves his girl a whole year.

And when he came to his darling,
Very softly, she gave him her hand,
The whole hand and much more,
Love never came to an end.

"Greetings, greetings, my dearest!
What are you doing alone in bed?"
"Thanks, thanks, my faithful lad!
With me it will soon be in the grave."

"Greetings, greetings, my fine boy.
Let me go to the cool grave."
"Oh no, oh no, my dear child,
Because we are so in love. "

"Oh no, oh no, not so fast,
Because we are two lovers;
Oh no, oh no, my heart tells me,
The love and faith must last longer."

He took her in his arms to hold,
She was not warm, forever cold.
"Oh quick, oh quick, bring light to me,
Else my love dies, no one will see."

And when the maid had died,
He puts on the funeral bier.
Where do I get six young boys,
To carry my dear to the grave?

Pallbearers we need two times three,
Six farmhands they are so heavy.
It must be six of soldiers brave,
To carry my love to her grave.

A long black coat, I must now wear.
A sorrow great, is what I bear.
A sorrow great and so much more,
My grief it will end nevermore.