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Showing content with the highest reputation on 10/02/19 in all areas

  1. 5 points
  2. So was Woolworths. Everything has its time.
    4 points
  3. Its sore, so inflamed. So just trying to rest it really.
    2 points
  4. Maybe they’ll paint the bathroom walls and hope it keeps everyone happy for another few years.
    2 points
  5. I've found those to work a treat - and there's been several scientific studies backing it up too. Best to nip it in the bud before it turns into an injury. The achilles tendon is amazingly slow to heal if it does get a tear or something.
    2 points
  6. The chronic pain beat me yesterday but I’m heading back out to walk again today. Missus and lad are off out elsewhere so are dropping me off and not letting me get out of it. Beyong frustratingly debilitating at times but I’d be lost if it weren’t for them, they’re the reason to push. Great to read everyone else’s efforts, it really helps keep the motivation so keep up the great work!
    2 points
  7. Could you swap to off-feet cardio for a few weeks? Something like an exercise bike or a rower. It might help you keep active while deloading your achilles. Eccentric calf exercises also have some merit in dealing with achilles issues - https://www.runnersworld.com/health-injuries/a20833248/eccentric-calf-strengthening-for-achilles-tendinopathy-five-years-lat/ Sprints followed by the first gym session on a new part of my programme today. Lots of different jumps which was fun. Just about to go do 2 hours of rugby coaching too which will probably involve a reasonable amount of walking about.
    2 points
  8. The hardest part of any run is getting off the sofa. This thread is keeping me honest. The missus has noticed the back of my arms are bigger, which makes sense when my exercise regime is largely based on punching things. I did an hour today, feeling it now. Weigh in: 80.1 kg. (apparently, were I to be actually fighting, I would have to get down to 75kg).
    2 points
  9. Like others have said I struggle with reading poetry; I can never seem to master the rhythm and timbre of the writing. They always come across much, much better when read, preferably by the original writer. I do enjoy listening to poetry being read though. I'm not all that familiar with the old masters of the art described here, but do really enjoy some of the more contemporary writers. Benjamin Zephaniah, Lemn Sissay, Henry Normal and John Cooper Clarke. Speaking of which I am going to see Henry Normal and John Cooper Clarke in a couple of weeks time. Henry Normal is recording a new BBC R4 show, a Normal Nature which I've been lucky enough to get a ticket for, then back home to see John Cooper Clarke on the Friday in Liverpool.
    2 points
  10. Robbie Burns To a Mouse always impresses me. This always cheers me up too ( Edgar Marriott) I'll tell you an old-fashioned story That Grandfather used to relate, Of a joiner and building contractor; 'Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite. In a shop on the banks of the Irwell, Old Sam used to follow 'is trade, In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury; You know, where black puddings is made. One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole Wi' putty, when in thro' the door Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers; T'ould chap said 'Good morning, I'm Noah.' Sam asked Noah what was 'is business, And t'ould chap went on to remark, That not liking the look of the weather, 'E were thinking of building an Ark. 'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks, And all t'other shipbuilding junk, And wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple To panel the side of 'is bunk. Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly; That means it were all 'is to cut, And nobody else 'adn't got none; So 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot. 'A ha'penny too much,' replied Noah 'A Penny a foot's more the mark; A penny a foot, and when t'rain comes, I'll give you a ride in me Ark.' But neither would budge in the bargain; The whole daft thing were kind of a jam, So Sam put 'is tongue out at Noah, And Noah made Long Bacon* at Sam In wrath and ill-feeling they parted, Not knowing when they'd meet again, And Sam had forgot all about it, 'Til one day it started to rain. It rained and it rained for a fortni't, And flooded the 'ole countryside. It rained and it kept' on raining, 'Til the Irwell were fifty mile wide. The 'ouses were soon under water, And folks to the roof 'ad to climb. They said 'twas the rottenest summer That Bury 'ad 'ad for some time. The rain showed no sign of abating, And water rose hour by hour, 'Til the only dry land were at Blackpool, And that were on top of the Tower. So Sam started swimming to Blackpool; It took 'im best part of a week. 'Is clothes were wet through when 'e got there, And 'is boots were beginning to leak. 'E stood to 'is watch-chain in water, On Tower top, just before dark, When who should come sailing towards 'im But old Noah, steering 'is Ark. They stared at each other in silence, 'Til Ark were alongside, all but, Then Noah said: 'What price yer Maple?' Sam answered 'Three ha'pence a foot.' Noah said 'Nay; I'll make thee an offer, The same as I did t'other day. A penny a foot and a free ride. Now, come on, lad, what does tha say?' 'Three ha'pence a foot,' came the answer. So Noah 'is sail 'ad to hoist, And sailed off again in a dudgeon, While Sam stood determined, but moist. Noah cruised around, flying 'is pigeons, 'Til fortieth day of the wet, And on 'is way back, passing Blackpool, 'E saw old Sam standing there yet. 'Is chin just stuck out of the water; A comical figure 'e cut, Noah said: 'Now what's the price of yer Maple?' Sam answered, 'Three ha'pence a foot.' Said Noah: 'Ye'd best take my offer; It's last time I'll be hereabout; And if water comes half an inch higher, I'll happen get Maple for nowt.' 'Three ha'pence a foot it'll cost yer, And as fer me,' Sam said, 'don't fret. The sky's took a turn since this morning; I think it'll brighten up yet
    2 points
  11. I've got a poetry pamphlet coming out this year. There, I admitted it. I am a poet. My top 10 dead poets 10 Philip Larkin 9 Dylan Thomas 8 William Worsworth 7 Percy Bysshe Shelley 6 John Clare 5 Seamus Heaney 4 William Blake 3 W H Auden 2 Charles Causley 1 Wilfred Owen If we're going to quote Shelley, I would go for The Masque of Anarchy ("we are many, they are few") or my favourite seditious sonnet, England 1819 An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying King; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn,—mud from a muddy spring; Rulers who neither see nor feel nor know, But leechlike to their fainting country cling Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow. A people starved and stabbed in th' untilled field; An army, whom liberticide and prey Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield; Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay; Religion Christless, Godless—a book sealed; A senate, Time’s worst statute, unrepealed— Are graves from which a glorious Phantom may Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day
    2 points
  12. Nonsense. We hold all the cards in his negotiation. The BBC aren't going to be able to fill their schedules without us. Threaten to withhold our content and they'll soon cave in.
    2 points
  13. I don't think the RFL have any appetite for the Lions to tour. It's a decision made by the old management and it feels like the current management feel obliged to continue with it but most really just want it to go away. That doesn't discount the shabby way it's all been handled of course.There's no strategy for the Lions behind this attempt at resurrection. It's doomed. Just can it.
    2 points
  14. Around 13 miles this weekend, 5 1/2 Saturday 7 1/2 today. starting to believe I won’t humiliate myself in April
    1 point
  15. A few years back I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis and these stretches were a big help in reducing the symptoms. I do a few of these every day going up the stairs at home, become second nature now.
    1 point
  16. Turn the corporate boxes into council flats
    1 point
  17. Lecce marble has a different quality to the more commonly-seen Carrara - it almost glows in the moonlight. Lots of interesting arts'n'crafts stuff going on there too. If you're ever down in the Heel again, Gallipoli's old town (the bit offshore) is well worth a visit. The new town (on the mainland) is pretty underwhelming.
    1 point
  18. Quite a few years ago, I spent Christmas in the Italian Gallipoli, near Lecce. Didn't see any egrets, but the city's distinctive marblework is astounding. Then again, I did see an egret in the Silk Stream in North London, just about a minute's walk up the road from home.
    1 point
  19. The second verse especially - we need to get John Bishop to record it!
    1 point
  20. Traditional joined up thinking. Our line into London is shut this weekend for yet more engineering works so it is a tedious trip instead on the rail replacement bus. Fortunately one of the utilities has decided to make things even more enjoyable by choosing this weekend to dig up the approach road to the station and put in a threeway traffic light system, which paralyses the town even on a Sunday morning. Given that for the last two years the railway has been shut at weekends for 6-7 months every year, surely it could not have come as a shock that this might be the case?
    1 point
  21. There's a theory that's been around for a while now, that 'Jabberwocky' was written to be recited in a broad Scouse accent. There's definitely something to it.
    1 point
  22. How to Eat a Poem by Eve Merriam (1916 –1992) Don’t be polite. Bite in, Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away.
    1 point
  23. Never heard that one before. This one takes a different slant on it. The Responsibility by Peter Appleton I am the man who gives the word, If it should come, to use the Bomb. I am the man who spreads the word From him to them if it should come. I am the man who gets the word From him who spreads the word from him. I am the man who drops the Bomb If ordered by the one who's heard From him who merely spreads the word The first one gives if it should come. I am the man who loads the Bomb That he must drop should orders come From him who gets the word passed on By one who waits to hear from him. I am the man who makes the Bomb That he must load for him to drop If told by one who gets the word From one who passes it from him. I am the man who fills the till, Who pays the tax, who foots the bill That guarantees the Bomb he makes For him to load for him to drop If orders come from one who gets The word passed on to him by one Who waits to hear it from the man Who gives the word to use the Bomb. I am the man behind it all; I am the one responsible.
    1 point
  24. How could I forget about Burns?! His poetry just works for me, his mixture of "normal" poetry and contemporary (for the time) political commentary poetry did a rare thing with poetry in that it made me think. I used to refer to our two cats using Burns' clips, the "wee sleekit cowrin timrous beastie" was a nervous cat we rescued, and the "great chieftain o' the pudding race" was a cat that tended towards the chubbier side of cat sizes. Then there's the political ones that just need a bit of amendment to be relevant today. I've made a single amendment to the closing section of this one, you can just feel the bitterness radiate off that last line. But pith and power, till my last hour, I'll mak this declaration; We're bought and sold for hidden gold- Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
    1 point
  25. @qikipedia A zoo in Texas has introduced a rather different Valentine's package this year. For a small fee, they will name a cockroach after your ex and feed it to a meerkat.
    1 point
  26. My dad conducts a choir, and their concerts alternate songs with poetry readings. He always includes something by William McGonagall.
    1 point
  27. Please stop this now! Send England if you want some tests down under but don't half ass something to the extent it embarrasses the game. A repeat of the 2017 World Cup semi between England and Tonga will get people talking. Just do that FFS!
    1 point
  28. My Real surname isn't a very common one, so you can imagine my surprise when watching Milford v Lock Lane yesterday, when I heard the commentators call it out for one of the LL players, I mentioned to my daughter that there was also an MK Dons player with our name, and he scored yesterday as well, 2 winners!
    1 point
  29. Cardiff City have had two back-to-back wins in the top flight for the first time since 1962. That's an impressive stat
    1 point
  30. Me too. I also know "Anthem for Doomed Youth" and "Futility". I throw in Siegfried Sassoon's "The General" too. “Good-morning, good-morning!” the General said When we met him last week on our way to the line. Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of 'em dead, And we're cursing his staff for incompetent swine. “He's a cheery old card,” grunted Harry to Jack As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack. But he did for them both by his plan of attack.
    1 point
  31. Came across this in my late teens, it’s hovered behind my shoulder just barely in earshot for the last 25 years. Emptiness, by Spike Milligan I've learned mine can't be filled, only alchemized. Many times it's become a paragraph or a page. But usually I've hidden it, not knowing until too late how enormous it grows in its dark. Or how obvious it gets when I've donned, say, my good cordovans and my fine tweed vest and walked into a room with a smile. I might as well have been a man with a fez and a faux silver cane. Better, I know now, to dress it plain, to say out loud to some right person in some right place that there's something not there in me, something I can't name. That some right person has just lit a fire under the kettle. She hasn't said a word. Beneath her blue shawl she, too, conceals a world. But she's been amazed how much I seem to need my emptiness, amazed I won't let it go.
    1 point
  32. My favourite poet - Mr Robert Zimmerman Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone. If your time to you Is worth savin' Then you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'. Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'. For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'. Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled There's a battle outside And it is ragin'. It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls For the times they are a-changin'. Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land And don't criticize What you can't understand Your sons and your daughters Are beyond your command Your old road is Rapidly agin'. Please get out of the new one If you can't lend your hand For the times they are a-changin'. The line it is drawn The curse it is cast The slow one now Will later be fast As the present now Will later be past The order is Rapidly fadin'. And the first one now Will later be last For the times they are a-changin'.
    1 point
  33. Hic Jacet Arthurus Rex Quondam Rexque Futurus Francis Brett Young Arthur is gone…Tristram in Careol Sleeps, with a broken sword - and Yseult sleeps Beside him, where the Westering waters roll Over drowned Lyonesse to the outer deeps. Lancelot is fallen . . . The ardent helms that shone So knightly and the splintered lances rust In the anonymous mould of Avalon: Gawain and Gareth and Galahad - all are dust. Where do the vanes and towers of Camelot And tall Tintagel crumble? Where do those tragic Lovers and their bright eyed ladies rot? We cannot tell, for lost is Merlin's magic. And Guinevere - Call her not back again Lest she betray the loveliness time lent A name that blends the rapture and the pain Linked in the lonely nightingale's lament. Nor pry too deeply, lest you should discover The bower of Astolat a smokey hut Of mud and wattle - find the knightliest lover A braggart, and his lilymaid a slut. And all that coloured tale a tapestry Woven by poets. As the spider's skeins Are spun of its own substance, so have they Embroidered empty legend - What remains? This: That when Rome fell, like a writhen oak That age had sapped and cankered at the root, Resistant, from her topmost bough there broke The miracle of one unwithering shoot. Which was the spirit of Britain - that certain men Uncouth, untutored, of our island brood Loved freedom better than their lives; and when The tempest crashed around them, rose and stood And charged into the storm's black heart, with sword Lifted, or lance in rest, and rode there, helmed With a strange majesty that the heathen horde Remembered when all were overwhelmed; And made of them a legend, to their chief, Arthur, Ambrosius - no man knows his name - Granting a gallantry beyond belief, And to his knights imperishable fame. They were so few . . . We know not in what manner Or where they fell - whether they went Riding into the dark under Christ's banner Or died beneath the blood-red dragon of Gwent. But this we know; that when the Saxon rout Swept over them, the sun no longer shone On Britain, and the last lights flickered out; And men in darkness muttered: Arthur is gone…
    1 point
  34. Thanks, phil. Ckn. Roger McGough The Lesson is great, but less endearing is (was) Poetry Please , Saturday night, Radio 4, 11.30 which to be honest put me off. Once read "Ode", Arthur O'Shaunghnessy, "We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams......" Just revisiting the Penguin Book of Irish Verse ( very largely unread, of course and might remain so) Must look at William Blake, too. Just watched the 1991Wigan season review video. Edwards, Gregory, Hanley, Lydon, Bell, Hampson, Preston, Myers and more. True poetry in motion.
    1 point
  35. Or, as Benny Hill called it, The Rubber Yacht Of Hymie Cohen … ?
    1 point
  36. My favourite is The Odyssey, I go through that at least once a year, which often feeds into Treasure Island. There’s a well thumbed copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh in my bookcase also. As much as the ancient stories hold my interest I can pin the moment where I started being more into poetry to when we as a class of middle school yobs went to see Roger McGough and it seemed all, teachers and kids alike connected to ‘The Lesson’: Chaos ruled OK in the classroom as bravely the teacher walked in the nooligans ignored him his voice was lost in the din 'The theme for today is violence and homework will be set I'm going to teach you a lesson one that you'll never forget' He picked on a boy who was shouting and throttled him then and there then garrotted the girl behind him (the one with grotty hair) Then sword in hand he hacked his way between the chattering rows 'First come, first severed' he declared 'fingers, feet or toes' He threw the sword at a latecomer it struck with deadly aim then pulling out a shotgun he continued with his game The first blast cleared the backrow (where those who skive hang out) they collapsed like rubber dinghies when the plug's pulled out 'Please may I leave the room sir? ' a trembling vandal enquired 'Of course you may' said teacher put the gun to his temple and fired The Head popped a head round the doorway to see why a din was being made nodded understandingly then tossed in a grenade And when the ammo was well spent with blood on every chair Silence shuffled forward with its hands up in the air The teacher surveyed the carnage the dying and the dead He waggled a finger severely 'Now let that be a lesson' he said
    1 point
  37. It can be tricky finding something to rhyme with Australia in Limericks There was a young man from Australia, Who painted his asre like a Dahlia At 5p per smell, He did quite well But, 10p a lick was a failure
    1 point
  38. Rubbish. GB rugby league was a fantastic traditional brand.
    1 point
  39. I hope they play as England. The England Rugby League brand has been building momentum for several years. Great Britain Rugby League is a farce.
    1 point
  40. Nice to see it again being referred to only as the British Lions. It must really make people in Ireland want to get behind the team, to see how much they are valued.
    1 point
  41. Quite a big crowd for union, that.
    1 point
  42. Very interesting. Shame the blue plaque only refers to "Rugby" and all that this entails; if you haven't heard of the Challenge Cup then you would easily assume that it is RU. Just me being a curmudgeon I suppose.
    1 point
  43. Headingley yesterday.
    1 point
  44. Anyone for Coffee? VID-20171120-WA0000 by David Hesketh, on Flickr
    0 points
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