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Software Engineer's Lifestyle...

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    Software Engineer's Lifestyle...

    ...Well, Spod is off to San Francisco next week.

    Spod - In "Which is nice" mode!

    #2
    I'm off to Wales for the weekend. How does that rate in the lifestyle stakes?

    Comment


      #3
      Originally posted by Lucifer Box
      I'm off to Wales for the weekend. How does that rate in the lifestyle stakes?
      My parents are moving to Anglesey over the weekend.

      Spod - In "fecking Druids" mode!

      Comment


        #4
        Originally posted by Lucifer Box
        I'm off to Wales for the weekend. How does that rate in the lifestyle stakes?
        I'm collecting the mother-in-law from the airport.

        Wage in 'Nigel' mode.
        Autom...Sprow...Canna...Tik banna...Sandwol...But no sera smee

        Comment


          #5
          Originally posted by Lucifer Box
          I'm off to Wales for the weekend. How does that rate in the lifestyle stakes?
          Welsh Landscape


          To live in Wales is to be conscious
          At dusk of the spilled blood
          That went into the making of the wild sky,
          Dyeing the immaculate rivers
          In all their courses.
          It is to be aware,
          Above the noisy tractor
          And hum of the machine
          Of strife in the strung woods,
          Vibrant with sped arrows.
          You cannot live in the present,
          At least not in Wales.
          There is the language for instance,
          The soft consonants
          Strange to the ear.
          There are cries in the dark at night
          As owls answer the moon,
          And thick ambush of shadows,
          Hushed at the fields' corners.
          There is no present in Wales,
          And no future;
          There is only the past,
          Brittle with relics,
          Wind-bitten towers and castles
          With sham ghosts;
          Mouldering quarries and mines;
          And an impotent people,
          Sick with inbreeding,
          Worrying the carcase of an old song. To live in Wales is to be conscious
          At dusk of the spilled blood
          That went into the making of the wild sky,
          Dyeing the immaculate rivers
          In all their courses.
          It is to be aware,
          Above the noisy tractor
          And hum of the machine
          Of strife in the strung woods,
          Vibrant with sped arrows.
          You cannot live in the present,
          At least not in Wales.
          There is the language for instance,
          The soft consonants
          Strange to the ear.
          There are cries in the dark at night
          As owls answer the moon,
          And thick ambush of shadows,
          Hushed at the fields' corners.
          There is no present in Wales,
          And no future;
          There is only the past,
          Brittle with relics,
          Wind-bitten towers and castles
          With sham ghosts;
          Mouldering quarries and mines;
          And an impotent people,
          Sick with inbreeding,
          Worrying the carcase of an old song.

          R.S. Thomas
          I've seen much of the rest of the world. It is brutal and cruel and dark, Rome is the light.

          Comment


            #6
            Excellent Francko. Though maybe a little repetitive.

            Comment


              #7
              I like Wales.
              I've seen much of the rest of the world. It is brutal and cruel and dark, Rome is the light.

              Comment


                #8
                Best summed up by:

                And an impotent people,
                Sick with inbreeding,
                Although nothing about short, dark, hairy women, sex with sheep and web-toed banjo playing.
                Autom...Sprow...Canna...Tik banna...Sandwol...But no sera smee

                Comment


                  #9
                  I just got back from working in Amsterdam and Utrecht. Never seen so many chavs in my life...
                  Brexit is having a wee in the middle of the room at a house party because nobody is talking to you, and then complaining about the smell.

                  Comment


                    #10
                    Spod's off

                    Back in a week.

                    Ciao!

                    Comment

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