Nahum 1:11 There is one come out of thee, that imagineth evil against the LORD, a wicked counsellor.
IMAGE FOR THE DAY
LYRIC FOR THE WEEK
Hey, have you noticed that the world has changed?
That the news is all bad?
Well, I think it’s time for a song about that
Up on the east side of Manhattan
They’re still dancing with the stars
While over in sub-prime city
It’s getting ugly in the local bars
Watching the news only gives me the blues
There’s too much going wrong
It takes the likes of me to hit the reboot key
And write a high speed drinking song
Millionaires losing everything
Hey, welcome to the other side of life
There goes the yacht, there goes the Rolls
But you get to keep your wife
And don’t forget the auto makers
Swimmin’ upstream like a trout
They let the shit hit the fan and then they made a plan
We’ve got a lot to drink about
There’s the price of oil, the war of the spoils
Here’s your bucket for the big bailout
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan
We’ve got a lot to drink about
Now Madoff made off with all the money
And his clients are down to skunk weed
Repeat after me, it’s so easy to see
We’re only talking simple greed
And those Somalian pirates are counting all their gold
While Bush and Cheney ain’t around
And all the good lookers seem to be Russian hookers
From Key West to London town
There’s the price of oil, the war of the spoils
Here’s your bucket for the big bailout
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan
We’ve got a lot to drink about
So pour me some Tennessee whiskey
Pour me a fine Jamaican rum
That loud mouth soup
Can get ya kind of looped
Tequila, of course I’ll have some!
Well, the family devalues
And little children plan their net worth
And the truth, wherever it’s hiding
Can’t be found on Google Earth
Citibank’s buying jets with our money
I wanna flog ’em with a buggy whip
Let’s hope Barack and Joe won’t let the volcano blow
And patch the hole in our sinking ship
There’s the price of oil, the war of the spoils
Here’s your bucket for the big bailout
Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan
We’ve got a lot to drink about
Recession, oppression, depression, good God
CNN keeps bummin’ me out
I can’t take another doomsday minute
Got a lot to drink, a lot to think, a lot to drink about
God bless America
( A Lot To Drink About by Will Kimbrough, Jimmy Buffett and, Mac McAnally )
Women and Men (2 Min VIDEO) – The Figen – “THE NEXT TIME SOME DUDE SAYS HE’S A WOMAN, HAVE HIM DO THIS! PHYSICS AND BIOLOGY DON’T LIE!” HAT TIP TO STEVE QUAYLE FOR COMMENT AND POSTING!!!
Ecclesiastes 2:4-5 I made me great works; I builded me houses; I planted me vineyards: I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them of all kind of fruits:
How? – “How on earth does this help? Honest to heavens, I give up.” – Sylvia Shawcross – RANT FROM ANOTHER SINGER/ACTRESS. JANN ARDEN, WHO THINKS HER OPINIONS ARE IMPORTANT. WHY DO THESE SINGERS AND ACTORS SUCH AS DENIRO, PENN, BONO, SPRINGSTEEN AND OTHERS TRY TO SERMONIZE EVERYONE. JUST REMEMBER OPINIONS ARE LIKE ASSHOLES, EVERYONE HAS ONE, YOUR’S ARE NO MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYONE ELSE’S. STICK TO ACTING AND SINGING!!!!!!!!!!!
Proverbs 23:4-5 Labour not to be rich: cease from thine own wisdom. Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away as an eagle toward heaven.
IMAGE FOR THE DAY
LYRIC FOR THE WEEK
Dear Mr. President I live in the suburbs It’s a long way from Washington , D.C. Had me a job Workin’ for wages Till the company moved out And they forgot about me Can’t draw unemployment For some unknown reason My kids are hungry I’ve got four mouths to feed I go out every day looking for suitable employment Do you think there’s something you could do for me Cause I’m
Down and out here in paradise Down and out and I’m on my knees I’m down and out here in paradise Looks like the milk and honey Done run out on me
Dear Mr. President I used to be a dancer Got a little bit too old So I became a secretary Married a man In Las Vegas, Nevada And ten years later He ran out on the kids and me Some said I was pretty But those days are over Now I’ve no place to live And I’m out on the streets Oh, Mr. President Can I tell you a secret I never ever thought that this could happen to me Cause I’m
Dear Mr. President I’m just a young kid I’m in the fourth grade At Riley Elementary My mom and dad’s been actin’ funny I’m not sure what If it’s got something to do with me My daddy’s always drunk My mom’s a babysitter And I don’t like the Russians Cause I hear they hate me Dear Mr. President Can I ask you one question When the bombs fall down Will they hurt everyone in my family Yeah, yeah