Why are we here? What’s life all about?
Is God really real, or is there some doubt?
Is life just a game where we make up the rules
While we’re searching for something to say,
Or are we just simply spiralling coils
Of self-replicating DNA?
In this ‘life’, what is our fate?
Is there Heaven and Hell? Do we reincarnate?
Is mankind evolving, or is it too late?…
Hey, look. Howard’s being eaten.
no prosze ja was,pieprzeni poligloci!pfff….i powtorze to jakby ktos niedoslyszal,pffff….;)
ce soir, on va tous changer le monde..si on veut
Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations, and, finally, here are some completely gratuitous pictures of penises to annoy the censors and to hopefully spark some sort of controversy, which, it seems, is the only way, these days, to get the jaded, video-sated public off their fucking arses and back in the sodding cinema. Family entertainment bollocks. What they want is filth: people doing things to each other with chainsaws during tupperware parties, babysitters being stabbed with knitting needles by gay presidential candidates, vigilante groups strangling chickens, armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats– Where’s the fun in pictures? Oh, well, there we are. Here’s the theme music. Goodnight.
Monty Python? :))) Sens życia? ::))))
‘Cause, you see, I feel that life’s a game. You sometimes win or lose,
And though I may be down right now, at least I don’t work for Jews.
So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson.
O Lord, please don’t burn us.
Don’t grill or toast Your flock.
Don’t put us on the barbecue
Or simmer us in stock.
Don’t braise or bake or boil us
Or stir-fry us in a wok.
Oh, please don’t lightly poah us
Or baste us with hot fat.
Don’t fricassee or roast us
Or boil us in a vat,
And please don’t stick Thy servants, Lord,
In a Rotissomat.
Come in, my little loves. I’ve got no option but to sell you all for scientific experiments.
Aah! I see you have the machine that goes ‘ping’.
This is my favourite.
The media has been aflurry with reports that a new species of lemur, discovered in a remote part of Madagascar, has been named after John Cleese.