Cattle Food
AN ELDERLY NATIVE WENT VISITING AT A CITY, AND ON HIS ARRIVAL, HIS HOST QUICKLY TOOK HIM TO AN EXPENSIVE RESTAURANT FOR A WELCOME MEAL!
WHAT WILL BE YOUR ORDER TODAY SIR? A WAITRESS ASKED THE CITIZEN AND HE REPLIED, MY USUAL WOULD BE IN ORDER! AND THE WAITRESS TURNED TO THE ELDERLY NATIVE AND SAID, SIR! WHAT WOULD BE YOUR ORDER? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, MY USUAL WOULD BE IN ORDER!
THE WAITRESS ASSUMING THAT THEY BOTH WANTED THE CITIZEN'S USUAL PLATE OF VEGETABLE SALAD, WALKED OFF TO GET THE FOOD.
ON HER RETURN WITH THE FOOD, THE CITIZEN IMMEDIATTELY BEGAN TO EAT HIS FOOD, WHILE THE ELDERLY NATIVE SAT FROWNING AT THE PLATE OF SALAD PLACED BEFORE HIM, AFTER A WHILE, HE ASKED HIS HOST, DEAR FRIEND, WAS YOURS WELL COOKED? MINE LOOKS AS IF IT WASN'T EVEN COOKED AT ALL!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Related quotes
Creep Hymn
The creep
Goes to a restaurant
And order the food to eat at the restaurant
But when the food comes he eats a little bit of the food
Just so he can taste it
And he tells everybody very loud that the food that he order
Taste like shit
And then he takes the plate and throws it on the floor
But he lives the restaurant without pay
The waitress from the restaurant looks everywhere for him in the Restaurant
Sorry waitress he is gone out of the door
And he run away so that you couldn't catch him
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Way To The City
A CITIZEN CAME ACROSS A NATIVE AND SAID, WHICH WAY I BEG OF THEE' LEADS TO THE CITY? HE ASKED THE NATIVE WHO REPLIED! OH, EVERY WAY BUT THIS WAY! AND THE SURPRISED CITIZEN ASKED CURIOUSLY, WHAT MEAN YOU BY THAT STATEMENT? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, WELL, THIS WAY LEADS TO MY NATIVITY, THAT MUCH I AM SURE OF!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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The Smart Native And The Foolish Citizen
A BUSH MAN WAS TAKEN TO A CITY AND ON ARRIVAL AT THE CITY HE BEGAN TO STARE AT THE MARVELOUS CONSTRUCTIONS BY THE CITY PEOPLE!
A MAN WALKED UP TO HIM WHERE HE STOOD, AND ON NOTICING HIS NATIVE CLOTHINGS, THE MAN INSTANTLY KNEW THAT HE WAS A NOVICE, AND THE MAN WALKED UP TO HIM, CLEARED HIS VOICE AND SAID, HEY MR! WHAT BE THY ERRAND HERE? AND HOW MUCH HAVE YOU PAID FOR THE SIGHTINGS? HE ASKED THE BAFFLED NATIVE WHO REPLIED, PAID? I DIDN'T THAT I HAD TO PAY TO LOOK AT BUILDINGS! AND THE CONMAN QUICKLY RETORTED! AHA! YOU HAVE COMMITED A CRIME KNOWN AS LOOKERY BY CREDIT! AND IF YOU FAIL TO PAY, YOU WILL EARN A JAIL TERM OF SIX MONTHS! HE STATED AND THE NATIVE SAID, OH PARDON ME SIR, I HAVE ONLY LOOKED AT THREE BUILDINGS! THE CUNNING CITIZEN SPOKE, SAYING, THAT WOULD BE THREE DOLLARS! A DOLLAR FOR A BUILDING! THE NATIVE PAID THE MONEY AND WALKED OFF SMILING MISCHIEVIOUSLY AS HE TOUGHT TO HIMSELF! FOOLISH CITIZEN, I HAVE LOOKED AT ALMOST ALL THE BUILDINGS IN THIS CITY AND I PAID FOR ONLY THREE BUILDINGS!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Late Lunch
We went to a local restaurant,
Where we thought it would be good to eat.
We were soon handed a menu
And taken through to our seat.
We ordered starters and drinks,
Along with our two mains.
The waitress wrote our order down,
Then trotted off again.
After quite a while had passed,
I thought that it was all taking a bit long.
I did start to wonder to myself,
If, maybe, something had gone wrong.
We called the waitress over,
And told her of our concern.
She, in turn, called the manager.
Of the delay, she wasn't happy to learn.
She apologised and went away,
To see what she could do.
She returned a few minutes later,
Saying that our order hadn't been put through.
She was mystified about what had happened.
She wondered how it could so be.
To say sorry for the hour's delay,
She gave us the entire meal for free!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Salad is Incompatible with Life
Yes, my waist is fifty inches -
Big for me because I'm short.
And yes, I like my cheddar cheese
When partnered with a vintage port.
Okay, okay, that double cream
Is always served with pud,
And cake and biscuits with my tea
Are just no bloody good
For my poor hardened arteries,
But see my point of view,
Please dear wifey if you please,
A Salad makes me spew!
I'd rather eat a bowl of air
Than crunch away on greens;
Drink water from the toilet bowl
Or nibble on my jeans!
But salad! Are you there?
You know it makes me snappy -
So let me fill my face with grub,
Stay fat, and die young happy!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
food food food food food food food food food
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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It Happens in the B.R. Families
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Newport lie
That I roused from sleep in a huddled heap
An elderly wealthy guy.
His hair was graying, his hair was long,
And graying and long was he;
And I heard this grouch on the shore avouch,
In a singular jazzless key:
"Oh, I am a cook and a waitress trim
And a maid of the second floor,
And a strong chauffeur and a housekeeper,
And the man who tends the door!"
And he shook his fists and he tore his hair,
And he started to frisk and play,
Till I couldn't help thinking the man had been drinking,
So I said (in the Gilbert way):
"Oh, elderly man, I don't know much
Of the ways of societee,
But I'll eat my friend if I comprehend
However you can be
"At once a cook and a waitress trim
And the maid of the second floor,
And a strong chauffeur and a housekeeper,
And the man who tends the door."
Then he smooths his hair with a nervous air,
And a gulp in his throat he swallows,
And that elderly guy he then lets fly
Substantially as follows:
"We had a house down Newport way,
And we led a simple life;
There was only I," said the elderly guy,
And my daughter and my wife.
"And of course the cook and a waitress trim
And the maid of the second floor,
And a strong chauffeur and a housekeeper,
And the man who tends the door."
"One day the cook she up and left,
She up and left us flat.
She was getting a hundred and ten a mon-
Th, but she couldn't work for that.
"And the waitress trim was her bosom friend,
And she wouldn't stay no more;
And our strong chauffeur eloped with her
Who was the maid of the second floor.
"And we couldn't get no other help,
So I had to cook and wait.
It was quite absurd," wept the elderly bird.
"I deserve a better fate.
"And I drove the car and I made the beds
Till the housekeeper up and quit;
And the man at the door found that a bore,
Which is why I am, to wit:
"At once a cook and a waitress trim
And the maid of the second floor,
And a strong chauffeur and a housekeeper,
And the man who tends the door."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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What Max Wanted
What do you want from me?
Max's wife said
and he looked by her
at the waitress
at the cafe
who was walking
with some order
behind his wife's back
and he noticed
the cute ass as she moved
the way she swayed
and the hands
holding the tray
huh? What is it
you want from me?
his wife repeated
her eyes peering at him
taking in
that aspect of him
as he turned his head
look said Max
following the waitress
to the table across the way
his eyes slowly
undressing her
his mind making up scenes
like in some movie
you say come on Honey
let's go out for a meal
and talk
and what are you doing
looking elsewhere
and not talking
his wife said
spittle on her lower lip
Max looked back
at his wife and said
oh yes sure
I was thinking
of the Picasso print
we saw the other day
you know that one
we both liked
and you said you'd like it
for your birthday
well maybe
I ought to get it
what do you think?
And the waitress
looked over at Max
as she went by
and he saw
a whole new ball game
in her eyes
and caught the cheek
and ear
and was sure
he captured some aspect
of her perfume
and his wife said
Picasso?
That Picasso?
are you sure Max?
and she went into a daze
and smiled
and Max imagined himself
and the waitress
and sex games
and a party
going wild.
poem by Terry Collett
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Campfire Meal
There is nothing like a meal
From a flaming hot campfire
It cooks the kind of food
For which you’ll never tire
A slow cooked smoky brisket
The best you ever got
Along with homemade biscuits
Cooked right in a iron pot
The beans are so hot and spicy
Your taste buds will yell hooray
The food is so delicious
I don’t know just what to say
The sweet corn and potatoes
Are cooked on the campfire too
Grab a plate and get in line
That’s just what you want to do
It’s the cowboy way of cooking
I’ll grab some firewood
Join us at the Rockin L & H
Where nothing else tastes as good!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Saturday Night in Dill City
We had a night I’d like to tell about
Consisting of an extraordinary meal
The food was simply delicious
With a down-home country feel
The place in which I ordered my food
It was one it’d never have expected
It was at the Fire Extinguisher
I was not even really directed
The food was oh, so scrumptious
Hamburger steak cooked on the grill
Caramelized onions plopped on top
I can taste that flavor still
Crispy fries and freshly made salad
With dressing fit for a king
Perfect for a party
Or out for a Saturday night fling
Yes, we had a wonderful time
If we hadn’t it would have been a pity
But we did find this restaurant on
Saturday night in Dill City
poem by Marilyn Lott
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I'd gone into that restaurant and sat down and the waitress had taken my order and everybody else had seen me with this what must have looked like this creature, this animal, sitting on the top of my head!
quote by Derek Jacobi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Model Citizen
Be an Arab
Be a Jew
Be a boxing
Kangaroo
Beat yourself
All black and blue
I don't care
Be a bleeder
Be a Cancer
A hemophiliac
Romancer
Be a crippled disco
Dancer
Oooh... What a pair
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled them again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
And a master of disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American!!!
I'm a hostage
In a city of creeps
They've got mercenary guards
That watch me sleep
They'd like to kill me slow
Bury me deep
In the heart of Texas
I'm a martyr
I'm a sadist
I might be the Saviour here to save us
I'm a friend of Sammy Davis, casually
He's a model citizen
I think I've got them fooled again
He's an ultra-sweety guy
I won't let down my disguise
He's a model citizen
Just keep believing that my friends
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm a model citizen
I'm an all American
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pachyderm
O' my elderly world, am I getting too bold?
The ones who go first were the elderly ones
Leaving spawns of unfertile aftermaths
Leaving my elderly world high and dry
O' my elderly world, am I getting out of control?
Doing everything that crosses my mind
Like there is no tomorrow
Like there are no rules
O' my elderly world, am I worthy of being alive?
When all my tendency contributes are turmoils
When my currupted mind only grieves others'
Like I own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, are the rulers doing well?
When all they can offer are blood, tears and lives taken
When the rich becomes richer
When the poor becomes poorer
Like they own this elderly world...
O' my elderly world, do I still have the time?
Am always envious of time
Am always running out of time
Hope I won't be here when your time runs out
O' my elderly world...
poem by Chosen Reject
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I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Waste Food
Hundreds and thousands have toiled under the scorching sun of summer,
to grow the food which so comfortably we eat.
think of food as the fruit of labor of thousands of hours,
rather than just rice and wheat.
millions die due to lack of food, so is their fate,
but we are lucky to have every time enough in our plate.
we may never go to the fields to produce the food,
but my friend 'food saved is food produced'.
so lets take a vow today to put in our plate only that much which we can eat,
so that even a single single grain may not go waste.
poem by Sunny Mittal
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A buffet to Remember
It was a buffet to remember
With a lovely Hawaiian theme
Food so fresh and flavorful
It was truly a food critic’s dream
Shrimp so sweet and tasty
Dipping sauce perfectly mixed
The platters were so beautiful
With everything that was fixed
A pig cooked to perfection
We couldn’t wait to eat
So much food to put on our plate
Hard to carry it to our seat
The perfect way to celebrate
Harold’s 100th birthday
Grabbed our plate and filled it up
It was just like a holiday!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Girls' Night Out
To our favourite pub in town, my friends and I, hurry.
For just over a fiver, we can order a drink and a curry.
From the bar, we grab our change and various drinks,
And there’s a loud chorus of ‘cheers! ’ as glasses clink.
At our table, we catch up on each others lives,
As a waitress brings each of us, forks and knives.
There’s a delicious aroma of food lingering in the air,
And my pangs of hunger, I almost can no longer bear.
We sit there chatting and laugh at each other’s jokes,
Whilst eyeing up some really dropp dead gorgeous blokes.
A waitress approaches, and puts our food on the table;
We’re starving and we all tuck in, as soon as we are able.
As we all get stuck in, our chatter is held, slightly, at bay,
Until the waitress returns, to clear our empty plates away.
I peruse the dessert menu and find myself unable to resist
Chocolate fudge cake, served with cream. Mmm! Pure bliss!
At the bar, I order my wickedly indulgent, calorie filled, treat,
And now feel happy and contented that my meal is complete.
I grab my purse as it’s my turn to buy another round of drinks.
Into the tall glasses, the ice cubes, dropp with a musical PLINK!
In high spirits, we decide to leave the warmth of the pub,
And head up town, to continue our night out, at a night club.
The DJ plays some fabulous Eighties retro dance tracks,
And the illuminated dance floor is almost constantly packed.
We’re soon on the dance floor, dancing the night away,
And, there, until the early hours of the morning, we stay.
By the time the club closes, we’re almost dead on our feet,
Having spent many a happy hour, dancing to the disco beat.
At the end of the night, we all head home to our beds.
We’re feeling happy, but very tired, it has to be said.
We tumble into our beds and very soon, we fall asleep,
And, from not a single one of us, is there another peep.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Great Stealth-burger Caper
A head cold had settled in with a vengeance.
After a couple of days at home I felt stir crazy.
Was it time to go somewhere, maybe a movie?
A quick glance at Arts & Entertainment section
and we made our choice of movies playing at our
favorite theater.
We jumped in the car and headed to the cinema.
“Haven’t eaten all day lets get a burger” I said.
“We don’t have enough time to stop to eat, lets
get something at the theater” Laureen replied.
“Nope, too expensive and the food is crappy anyway.
Let’s get some burgers to go and sneak them into the theater”
“What? ” You know they don’t let people take in food”
“Yeah, so they don’t need to know, right? ”
We wheeled into “Cruisers” a 50’s throwback diner.
You know the kind with old pictures of Elvis and Marilyn,
hanging on the walls and black & white checkerboard floors.
Cruisers make great burgers cheap (volume...Over a zillion sold) .
Thin patties, shredded lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles
and fresh sesame buns. Burgers better than the guys
with the “Golden Arches” or “flame broiled” belly busters.
It was 30 minutes before show time, but we were in luck.
Things were going well because we arrived 15 minutes before noon.
The movie gods were with us…
Just as we placed our order, people started lining up behind us.
“Two regular burgers with the works and mustard dressing please”
“Want fries with your burgers”
“Nope” I said hurriedly.
Laureen placed her order,
“One regular burger with everything except onions and an order of fries.”
“Do you want curly, regular, tatter tots or steak fries? ”
“Uh, I’ll take the steak fries please”
“Anything to drink? ”
“No thanks, just a cup for water (she wasn’t about to let me drink from her water bottle) .
We looked at each other as we sat down holding
our plastic tent with a black number 3 on it.
“Uh, how are we going to smuggle in that much food”, laureen asked.
“In your purse” I answered with a clueless grin on my face.
“Are you kidding, it’s already full and besides my water bottle is in it”
“I’ll put the water bottle in my back pocket”
“That’s still not enough room”
The waitress called our number.
We walked over to get our order then ran to the car
and zoomed off to the theater.
Laureen opened the bag and looked inside.
“Maybe we better eat the fries because they have a strong odor from
the deep fryer and they may not get by the ushers.
They take up a lot of room anyway”.
“Ok…get em out” I answered.
She set the white bag full of steak fries out and proceeded to pour ketchup on them from a few of those troublesome, sparsely filled plastic packets.
“Mmmm, pretty good I said as I stuffed a couple in my mouth.
I glanced at the bag and said, “Oh what the Hell, hand me a burger”.
By the time we arrived at the theater the burgers and fries were gone.
So much for the stealth burger caper…
We comfort in knowing that we’d smuggled in our whole lunch in our bellies and who likes to eat in the dark anyway.
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Elderly These Days!
The younger birds have flown off far away!
Their parents aged are left alone today;
The nest looks empty, silent, everyday;
O Lord, show us your way- they pray!
Who cares who cares for elderly these days?
All children seem busy in their own ways;
Mere solitude is what the world repays;
Oh, what a blot on modern human race!
What love was shown by parents in years past!
They look now weary, dazed, with eyes downcast;
They live in penury and sickness fast;
’Tis years, their near and dear ones saw them last!
Cannot all children understand their plight?
Neglecting elderly is never right;
God sees their bloody tears when children fight;
The elderly need food, comfort, care, sight!
Our parents kept us warm when we were cold;
All children have a duty to ones old;
The elderly need young shoulders to hold;
Their virtuous deeds are worth more than all gold!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-10-2006
Dedicated most lovingly to the World’s Elderly
poem by John Celes
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Before Going Home
before going home
(it is already nine o'clock in the evening)
from the university
i call you that i will fetch you
since there is a fire raging some houses
along the road where you will pass
and i am driving this white car
still thinking about what will happen to you
when you will be left alone
tonight
due to some petty quarrels
which we indulge sometimes unnecessarily
i invite you for some late dinners
in some interior restaurant
catering only to the some
exclusive few
(perhaps those who are lost
in the labyrinths of a complicated
relationship, just like us)
and you say yes
and you order spaghetti while i shall have
a burger and we both agree
we shall take the
canned Coca-cola
without much talk
i hold your hand while waiting for the waitress
to bring the food.
you smile and i know
we're still all right
this is what i like about us.
we always want to begin anew
before we sleep tonight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 37
A dervish arrived in a place, the owner of which was of a noble disposition, and had surrounded himself with a company of distinguished and eloquent men, each of whom uttered something elegant or jocular, according to the fashion of wits. The dervish who had travelled through the desert and was fatigued had eaten nothing. One of the company asked him by way of encouragement likewise to say something. The dervish replied: ‘I do not possess distinction and eloquence like you and have read nothing so you must be satisfied with one distich of mine.’ The company having agreed with pleasure he recited:
‘I am hungry and opposite to a table of food
Like a bachelor at the door of a bath of females.’
The company, having thus been apprised of his famished condition, produced a table with bread but as he began to eat greedily the host said: ‘Friend, at any rate stop a while till my servants roast some minced meat’; whereon the dervish lifted his head and recited:
‘Do not order pounded meat for my table.
To a pounded man simple bread is pounded meat.’