. Yes, I have had many sweet letters over the years, l get pleasure to write them too, they are priceless from my point of view, putting your words on paper to someone special is worth more than any present. Below is one of the more 'expressive':
With your stance, talk and letters, you make me dream of things l always wanted in my life: a passionate, loving, caring man who would crush me in his embrace and make gentle love to me. He, who would be there to hold my head on his chest and roll me to sleep each time I’d feel unsure of something and down round the corners of my mouth. He, who would take possession of me any time he had that urge to show me he is there to make me feel safe, protected, wanted and his! He, who would always know how to assuage my physical need and desire of love, comfort belonging.
He, who allows me to be connected to him by means of “11th hand” and stays still, letting me listen to his breathing, the silence, the warmth of his skin, revelling in the glory of having “given” himself unconditionally, completely, without reserves.
I love these moments when one gives oneself away to the partner, as these moments are glorious times of sheer abandonment, delight, trust and peace. It is also quite humbling, but exactly in this humbleness one finds confidence, self assurance, gratitude and equilibrium, and for some reason, you are now all ready for me all these things; and for some other to be unknown reason, you should experience all these things with me. I feel privileged, happy, warm inside my heart, responsible and never wanting you to leave my side.................
. Why do people, especially Indians post advertisements in the forums on CS? This is not the first, if you have a 'Masters' surely you would know it is 'discussion'.
What a fantastic era that was, I have tears in my eyes thinking about it, the 60's was good but I think that people from then found a new way to produce music helped by the films, if everyone was allowed to post their favourite it may well block CS servers.
On my third Christmas l came in to the lounge and there was a huge box for me, l rushed and ripped all the paper off and pulled the flaps open to find it was empty, on asking my Father what is was he said "That Son is an Action Man deserter....................
It is Christmas Day in the workhouse, And the cold, bare walls are bright With garlands of green and holly, And the place is a pleasant sight; For with clean-washed hands and faces, In a long and hungry line The paupers sit at the table, For this is the hour they dine.
And the guardians and their ladies, Although the wind is east, Have come in their furs and wrappers, To watch their charges feast; To smile and be condescending, Put pudding on pauper plates. To be hosts at the workhouse banquet They've paid for — with the rates.
Oh, the paupers are meek and lowly With their "Thank'ee kindly, mum's!'" So long as they fill their stomachs, What matter it whence it comes! But one of the old men mutters, And pushes his plate aside: "Great God!" he cries, "but it chokes me! For this is the day she died!"
The guardians gazed in horror, The master's face went white; "Did a pauper refuse the pudding?" "Could their ears believe aright?" Then the ladies clutched their husbands, Thinking the man would die, Struck by a bolt, or something, By the outraged One on high.
But the pauper sat for a moment, Then rose 'mid silence grim, For the others had ceased to chatter And trembled in every limb. He looked at the guardians' ladies, Then, eyeing their lords, he said, "I eat not the food of villains Whose hands are foul and red:
"Whose victims cry for vengeance From their dark, unhallowed graves." "He's drunk!" said the workhouse master, "Or else he's mad and raves." "Not drunk or mad," cried the pauper, "But only a haunted beast, Who, torn by the hounds and mangled, Declines the vulture's feast.
"I care not a curse for the guardians, And I won't be dragged away; Just let me have the fit out, It's only on Christmas Day That the black past comes to goad me, And prey on my burning brain; I'll tell you the rest in a whisper — I swear I won't shout again.
"Keep your hands off me, curse you! Hear me right out to the end. You come here to see how paupers The season of Christmas spend;. You come here to watch us feeding, As they watched the captured beast. Here's why a penniless pauper Spits on your paltry feast.
. Good you are here anyway, l read in a thread that you were banned 'indefinitely'.......................... . The translation of 'indefinitely' is, of course, "When your balls are slapping the cheeks of her rrrss.....you are in definitely"
. And you are absolutely correct, I would only differ on "if it makes sense", I would also draw your attention to the negative posts to many of these threads...................of which there are many.
. WOW! is it still there?, America too?, l live on the edge of the World and l read a thread here that some idiot stated "This Is It" so not hearing anymore news l guessed that war had started and it was all over now.
There was a lot of mist and smoke here one day and I was under the impression it was 'fallout'.....................of course if you suffer from fallout you can put it back in and take shorter strokes.
yubba Forum Posts (1,962)
RE: Hanover cures???
.Not reading anything he posts I thought it meant "Nutter",