The trouble with my wife is that she is a whore in the kitchen and a cook in the bed.
quote by Geoffrey Gorer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Alankar (Decor) -30
Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)
How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult
How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Cook Of The House
Ground rice, sugar, vinegar, seco salt, macaroni too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
The salads in the bowl,
The rice is on the stove.
Green beans in the colander and where the res is heaven only knows.
Cinnamon, garlic, salt, pepper, corn-bread, curry powder, coffee too,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
No, matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best.
cause Im the cook of the house,
Cook of the house.
Where the rest is heaven only knows.
Matter where I serve my guests,
They seem to like the kitchen best cause Im the cook of the house.
Cook of the house,
Cook of the house,
Im the cook of the house.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A women needs to be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.
quote by Jerry Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My mother said it was simple to keep a man, you must be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. I said I'd hire the other two and take care of the bedroom bit.
quote by Jerry Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Kitchen
The bosom of her virginity is all about this story,
And of a woman portrayed upon the walls of hope;
But like the horsemen riding upon their horses,
The kitchen is where you do cook your food.
I am not an African woman and,
I am not your African wife!
But the kitchen is there for you to cook,
So do not wrap up your nakedness in the wings of my mind.
Blow the ram's horn to understand this poem,
And take a walk along the coast of love to understand my mind;
For i am in the deep steep of love with a pupil of sin,
And she is not an African woman.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The DirtyWhore
The Dirty Whore
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
With her heavy hips and juicy lips
She is bound by her pimp who gives her, her daily dose
Crack Coke heroine or lsd
In them she her emotions pores
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
As she tickles your dick and gives you new kicks
Biting down your balls to take it all
She massages your chest as she bears her breasts
Coming close yet staying a far
As her panties she removes to make new moves
Saddeling up your prick up and down she rolls
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Her job is tough her beat is rough
Pimps and pushers her companions at night
She dines with gangsters and cops alike
Getting paid well and getting beaten at times
Taking pills to giving new thrills
Whore whore whore the dirty little whore
Either at street corners, in bazaar's or mandi's
My friends you are bound to meet this raandi
500 for a blow 5000 for a shag
She even carries rubbers in her bag
To please you is her job
But you of your morality she will rob
Beware of the whore the dirty little whore
poem by Anuj Tikku
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To All Future Husbands
No matter
How much
I educate
My daughter,
If she's not
A good cook
Nor a good
Whore to you
In bed, you
Wouldn't fancy her.
It's the age of
Equality.
If you want your
Wife to work
And bring in
Money…
Why not ask
Your mothers
To teach you
Some cooking
And cleaning
So you can
Share the
Housework.
Instead of being
Brought up
To think
That no matter,
How much
Your wife
Works…
She'll always be
Up and ready,
To do all the
Serving…
And you, the
Lord of the house,
The most deserving,
Unflurried by the fact
That - to be the lady
Of the house, being
A mother, a wife,
A daughter-in-law,
Is Oh! So! Nerve-wracking,
So very tiring, for a woman
Working…
(Theme: Message)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Teacher's Beloved Wife
Adam was alone without Eve,
She became the source of his joy,
Not all, but known by a few,
Women's real ornament is to coy,
Marriage is the solution of many evils,
That also our requirements fulfills.
The lady is simple by her art,
She is my dear teacher's lovely wife,
Talks sincerly and laughs at heart,
That has come here leading a new life,
In kitchen, she'll be a good cook,
But in herself is a living book.
Regarding my teacher's Mr. Akmal Nazir's wife.
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Chinee Cook
They who say the bush is dull are not so very far astray,
For this eucalyptic cloisterdom is anything but gay;
But its uneventful dulness I contentedly could brook,
If I only could get back my lost, lamented Chinee cook.
We had tried them without number—cooks, to wit—my wife and I;
One a week, then three a fortnight, as my wife can testify;
But at last we got the right one; I may say 'twas by a fluke,
For he dropped in miscellaneous-like, that handy Chinee cook,
He found the kitchen empty, laid his swag down, and commenced;
My wife, surprised, found nothing to say anything against;
But she asked him for how much a year the work he undertook—
“Me workee for me ration,” said that noble Chinee cook.
Then right off from next to nothing such a dinner he prepared,
That the Governor I'm certain less luxuriously fared;
And he waited, too, in spotless white, with such respectful look,
And bowed his head when grace was said, that pious Chinee cook.
He did the work of man and maid—made beds and swept out rooms;
Nor cooled he in his zeal, as is the manner of new brooms:
Oh, he shed celestial brightness on the most sequestered nook,
For his mop and pail were everywhere—my cleanly Chinee cook.
We got fat upon his cooking; we were happy in those days,
For he tickled up our palates in a thousand pleasant ways.
Oh his dinners! Oh his dinners! they were fit for any duke!
Oh delectable Mongolian! Oh celestial Chinee cook!
There was nothing in creation that he didn't put to use,
And the less he got to cook with, all the more he could produce,
All nature was his kitchen range, likewise his cook'ry book—
Neither Soyer nor Meg Dod could teach that knowing Chinee cook.
And day by day upon my wife and me the mystery grew,
How his virtues were so many and his earnings were so few;
And we laid our heads together to find out by hook or crook,
The secret of the cheapness of that priceless Chinee cook.
And still the sense of mystery grew on us day by day,
Till it came to be a trouble, and we wished him well away;
But we could not find a fault in one so far above rebuke—
Ah, we didn't know the value of that valuable cook.
But one day when I was out he brought my wife a lot of things,
Turquoise earrings, opal bracelets, ruby brooches, diamond rings,
And he ran their various prices o'er as glibly as a book,
And dirt cheap, too, were the jewels of that jewel of a cook.
I returned, and just in time to stop the purchase of the lot,
And to ask him where on earth those costly jewels he had got,
And when I looked him in the face, good gracious how he shook!
And he says, says he, “Me bought him”—did that trembling Chinee cook.
And I a justice of the peace! O Fortune! how unkind!
For a certain Sydney robbery came rushing to my mind
“You bought them! Ah, I fear me, John, you paid them with a hook!
I am bound to apprehend you, oh unhappy Chinee cook!”
So the mystery was solved at length; the secret now we saw;
John had used us as a refuge from the clutches of the law;
And, now, alas, too late would I his frailty overlook!
He is gone, and I am left without my skilful Chinee cook.
Oh, could I taste again of those delicious luscious things,
I could pardon him the robbery of other people's rings;
I exaggerated principle, my duty I mistook,
When I handed over to the law my peerless Chinee cook.
What would I give just now for one of his superb ragouts,
His entrements, his entrées, his incomparable stews?
Oh, art and taste and piquancy my happy board forsook,
When I came the J.P. over my lamented Chinee cook.
Take away the hated letters. 'Twas my “justice” robbed my “peace”;
Take my name from the commission, and my matchless cook release.
But I fear my Johnny's dead, for I am haunted by a spook,
With oblique eyes and a pigtail, like my lost, my Chinee cook.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Scoops Of Soup
Once it has been discovered,
Who's pot you've been dipping to get...
Those scoops of soup,
Served to your guests.
It is going to be very hard to convince anyone,
That cook you had fired from the kitchen...
Is not as qualified as you profess.
And you may not be aware of this...
But a great cook,
Seldom leaves recipes behind.
Not those originating from an inventive mind.
And a great cook...
Has no problems finding,
Those who are seeking something better...
They know will stay with them that is craved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Are you kidding? I'm a terrible cook, but John is a really great one. Literally, I never cook. The whole time we were dating, I prepared two officially romantic meals. Both of them were such disasters that he begs me never to go into the kitchen again.
quote by Rebecca Romijn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My New Job
After I retired from the factory-I planned to be a couch potato-But soon my plans were changed-By my dear wife Evelyn Ada-She tied an apron on me-Though it was against my wishes-She pointed to the kitchen-And said go wash the dishes-She said I cook and clean-I've got enough to do-And now the dishwashing job-Has been assigned to you.
poem by Joy Thacker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whore! ! !
Whore! ! !
Man meets woman she was working the night
Man falls in love boy she had him in her sight
Man says the Thunderbolt struck, she uses it to take all his might
Whore! ! !
Man makes so many mistakes including divorcing his wife
Man gives woman EVERYTHING his body, his soul, his life
Man leaves all that he knows behind in just two weeks with the woman, only now he feels the knife
Whore! ! !
Man provides and protects the woman taking all her cares away
Man completely changes his life thinking that God blessed him that day
Man shuts out all his friends to make more time only for her, all he wants is for her to stay
Whore! ! !
Man is stunned and shocked when the woman won't defend
Man knows this is the issue and he will no longer pretend
Man sees the woman for who she really was and knows he cannot mend
Whore! ! !
Man is torn, twisted like a knife in his throat and he can't breathe
Man knows woman has done this before but yet he still doesn't want her to leave
Man begs, pleads, bears his soul, loves her with every fiber of his being and still will believe
Whore! ! !
Man learns even more about the woman and cannot believe what he hears
Man is told woman just did it with another poor sap, now he realizes his fears
Man knows now there's no honesty or loyalty with the woman, says no more years
Whore! ! !
Man thinks this whole love thing is just a bunch of bunk
Man now knows this woman was and is a Whore! , but he's strong and refuses to be in a funk
Man is done with the Whore! , and all the girls are back on me, yeah they love doing the dunk
No More Trouble (feat. Erykah Badu)
[Bob Marley]
(We don't need) No, we don't need (no more trouble) no more trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Wo! Oh-oh-oh!
(We don't need) We don't need no (no more) trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Make love and not war! 'Cause we don't need no trouble.
What we need is love (love)
To guide and protect us on. (on)
If you hope good down from above, (love)
Help the weak if you are strong now. (love)
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love. Oh, no!
We don't need - we don't need - no more trouble!
Lord knows, we don't need no trouble!
(We don't need) We don't need trouble (no more trouble) -
no more trouble - no more trouble!
Seek happiness! (...) Oh, ...!
Come on, you all and speak of love. (...) Oh, yeah!
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love, now. (What we need is love!)
(We don't need) Oh, we don't need no more trouble!
We don't need, no - we don't need no trouble!
We don't (need) - no, brothers and sisters ... (no more trouble!)
We don't need no trouble; we don't need no trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
What we need is love!
We don't need - we don't need no more - we don't need -
no more trouble - we don't need no more trouble!
Trouble we don't need (we don't need),
(We don't need) Lord, knows! -
we don't need no more war (no more trouble).
No more trouble - we don't need no more - more trouble! /fadeout/
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trouble
Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm,
You got your rabbits foot, you got your good-luck charm.
But they cant help you none when theres trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Trouble in the water, trouble in the air,
Go all the way to the other side of the world, youll find trouble there.
Revolution even aint no solution for trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Drought and starvation, packaging of the soul,
Persecution, execution, governments out of control.
You can see the writing on the wall inviting trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Put your ear to the train tracks, put your ear to the ground,
You ever feel like youre never alone even when theres nobody else around?
Since the beginning of the universe mans been cursed by trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Nightclubs of the broken-hearted, stadiums of the damned,
Legislature, perverted nature, doors that are rudely slammed.
Look into infinity, all you see is trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Servent Cook
mother
Cook
with love...
father
Cook
With taste...
Brother
Cook...
With enjoy...
sister
Cook
Simply fine...
Servent
Cook
A boor...
A woor...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trouble
I was raised a gamblers son
And before I could walk,
I had to learn how to run.
And I never, never ever
Played a loaded dice.
But, I rolled a lot of women
With a heart as cold as ice.
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Always coming my way,
Trouble always coming my way.
Baby Im lonely, Im out of control,
I need someone to understand
The badness in my soul.
Though I never, I never
Stole another mans wife
But, I fooled around plenty enough
And I got what I paid for.
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Trouble always coming my way.
Trouble.
(solo)
On the run again
Looking for a place to hide,
Everywhere I look there is trouble,
Trouble always coming my way.
Trouble always coming my way, trouble always coming...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Much Trouble
My baby left me, my mule got lame,
Lost all my money in a poker game.
Wind storm came one summers day,
Carried the house and lift it away.
Having so much trouble
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble.
Its finally driving me insane.
Carry me to jail my pyjamas on,
I even hate that I was born.
Let me out of jail, come through town.
Couldnt find my wife, she had put me down.
Having so much trouble,
Having so much trouble.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
I pawned my watch and I pawned my chain,
I would have pawned myself but I was ashamed.
Got me a job on the city pay
Early one morning layed me off that day.
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Im having so much trouble,
Bought to drive me insane.
Im having so much trouble:
Its finally driving me insane.
Trouble!
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If people take the trouble to cook, you should take the trouble to eat.
quote by Robert Morley
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cooked
What's the use?
Give it best;
Cut her loose;
Have a rest.
Hope is dead;
Gloom collects,
Nuff is said
Cook objects.
Moth and rust
Hither lurk;
All is bust,
Knock off work.
Nation's great
Architects,
Clean the slate;
Cook objects.
Oh the schemes
That we planned!
Dreaming dreams
For the land.
All in vain.
Hope neglects
To remain;
Cook objects.
Navy; what?
Army too?
Blessed rot;
All is blue.
It's all one
Who protects.
dropp your gun;
Cook objects.
Let her rip,
All is up.
Have to sip
Bitter cup.
Tear your hair
Woe connects
With despair,
Cook objects.
Fellow Aust
Ralians,
Trouble's crossed
All our plans.
Seek the tomb;
Fate selects
Us for doom.
Cook objects.
Death marks us
For his own.
(Grisly cuss.)
Our head-tone,
With a laugh,
He erects.
Epitaph
'Cook objects.'
dropp a tear;
Heave a sigh;
End is near;
Say goodbye.
Sell up home
And effects.
(Dismal pome)
Cook objects.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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