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Champions keep playing
until they get it right.
-- Billy Jean King

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SpanishOmelette
23 Aug - 21:53
Praise God for this day... nice warm weather

SpanishOmelette
20 Aug - 23:10
NP sweet mumkin. Your company is lovely. I apologize again for late respons!

Mim
15 Aug - 18:03
sorry for slow reesponses on forum..I am back

SpanishOmelette
15 Aug - 17:48
Hewwo Sorry about VERY late reply, but thankyou for these quotes

I shall contribute. Can't remember who wrote this...

"Your religion should be less of a theory, and more of a love affair."

Mim
15 Aug - 17:43
“Success is nothing more than a few simple disciplines, practiced every day.”
― Jim Rohn

Mim
11 Aug - 20:12
“Don't ever give up.
Don't ever give in.
Don't ever stop trying.
Don't ever sell out.
And if you find yourself succumbing to one of the above for a brief moment,
pick yourself up, brush yourself off, whisper a prayer, and start where you left off.
But never, ever, ever give up.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich

Mim
11 Aug - 13:55
“Fall seven times, stand up eight.” – Japanese Proverb


Mim
27 Jul - 01:37
I love you

Mim
15 Jul - 02:38
here's to a new day xxxx

Mim
05 Jul - 17:51
birthday was great



Indogo articles

Thee Weather
Find more about Weather in Maldon, UK

11 - The Squeewee Chronicles - Boats, waves and Karaoke
Finn C. M. Beauchamp
Sat 27 Dec 14
email to someone printer friendly pdf output  




So this was moonlit Beijing. Flights
were constantly coming and going, and cars and Chinese constantly filed
back and forth over the road, sparkling it with headlights.

He
looked around frantically. Where to go? Where was this place? Wheres the
food? He decided to start by walking. This was usually the right course
of action for a tiny humanoid pig.

Except, of course, when the
six-year-old girl from a family of American Tourists mistakes you for a
small toy, scoops you up, and puts you in a Hannah Montana play purse.

This
was, of course, what was happening to our poor squeebrew.
"Hehhhhhhchhcccchhhheeee....." he whispered, as he was jostled in the
purse along with a plastic coin, a 5-inch strand of wool and a few hairs
from the cat.

Luckily, after only forty-five minutes of this
strange massage accompanied by the whiny voice of a tired six-year-old,
the family entered the hotel. A man(He couldn't tell who) held a
few-minute conversation in fluent Chinese, and then thankfully they were
in the lift.

10 minutes, and they were walking. He heard a door
open and shut, and then the purse he was in was tossed onto a bed. He
bounced, as all squeebrews do.

Long story short, the next
morning, they were off. Squeewee thought he had escaped from the eyes of
the toddler, but he was back in the purse after an hour or  so.

After an hour, he could smell salty air. They were at a port, about to
get on a hired yacht and head to Japan for a 2-year holiday. The father
and mother would only spend £1.00 a day.

15 minutes later, they were on a boat. The moment they left port, the
wind picked up to 25 knots. The skipper was balmy, and they were leaning
at 40 degrees. They were moving at only 17 knots.

Squeewee finds it hard to remember those hectic few days. He had never
gone on a human-sized boat before, and it seemed to roll like a marble,
not unlike him.

Luckily, he had got out the purse, and was hiding near the sea toilet.
He had been able to devour several of his meals, and the rest of the
time hoping he wouldn't lose them.

The 6-year-old, after taking control of his new 3-inch boat, had
forgotten all about squeewee. This was a beautiful relief. After a time
which felt like an eternity of eating, sleeping, and then rolling around
when a wave hit the boat, they pulled into the mooring.

After he figured out how to get off, he was there. Well, he didn't know
what "there" was, really, but he knew it was solid. After the long
boating trip, the ground surged like a rippling pond. This was in the
Nagasaki Administrative Division, Izuhara Seaport, Tsushima.

He tottered through the boatyard, feeling the ground wobble beneath his
feet. A few times he fell over, and then rolled around a bit before
getting up.

The there was hope. A sleeping, stray Akita. Well, he didn't actually
know what it was. But it had legs, so it could move. If it could move,
it could help him travel. Squeewee had simple logic.

He slowly crept behind the dog. He then slowly walked around his back.
He then grabbed the fur, pulled himself on, and held on tight.

The Akita pricked up his ears. He stood, and then started to run.

"CHHHHEHEEEEEEEEEHEHHHHHHHHHEEEEEESHHHHEEE!"

Squeewee closed his eyes like a drawbridge. His backpack suddenly burst
open, leaving half his food, his coffee beans and his screwdriver around
tsushima.

Finally, the dog stopped near a bin to do what dogs love to do. Squeewee hopped off, and stumbled into the nearest building.

It was a karaoke bar.

"Ssschto?"

A British couple on holiday spotted him, and picked him up... just as
the song finished. The man who was managing this event assumed this was
the next person to enter.

He carried him to the stage, placed him on a stool, and lowered the microphone.

The bar went silent. Squeewee had no idea what to do.

A single drop of sweat rolled down off his ear, then he remembered. A
poem that had been taught to him in both Turkish and Russian.

He began to recite.

(Note: I will be translating this into English for our benefit)

"Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     What can a squeebrew do but dance?
Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     Dance, small one, dance,
Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     Since the day you were born,
Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     Your trotters wiggled to the sound of my voice.

O Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     You danced as soon as you walked,
O Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     You smiled, you tapped, you flung your arms in the air,
O Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     You skipped, you wriggled, you bounced.
O Dan-cing Squee-brew,
     Dance 'till you can dance no more."

Long story short, the crowd went wild. Photos were took. Within hours, he was all over youtube.

Squeewee had become a hit.




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