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Go To MikaSounds - Blog Updates Thread (Part 3)


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HAhaha!! Poor Francis :naughty:. I am indeed! Are you coming as well? Go on!!

 

Well I'd better, I told Luke the other day I would be:naughty:

I'm gonna see if I can persuade my friend when he gets back tomorrow, to come then I'll have a ride, unless the lease firm comes through for me tomorrow and I get a van.

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29(?). It's such a snug fit that it gives him that special "back in the womb" feeling. Oh mama.

 

(Not sure you want to add this one to the blog!)

 

:P

 

dilek feel free to add my suggestion as well, I told you :)

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here are some reasons why he keeps wearing that hat.

 

 

1. he is having more bad hair days than usual

2. his hair curling assistant has been sacked

3. its a bet

4. to distract us from Adele

5. to distract us from the twins

6. to distract us from nagging about the new album

7. Adele bought him it and he is wearing it to please her

8. it was FREEEEE!! lol

9. Martin super glued it to his head on the bus while he was asleep for a laugh

10. it's a dress code of his new found religion

11. He's becoming bald

12. It makes him half an inch taller

13. He looks more like Indiana Jones with one..

14. He's gone big-headed and he's trying to hide it?

15. There are flowers growing out of his head

16. Uuuummmm ..... he is really Molly Meldrum in disguise ?

17. It's his "thinking cap". Without it he has those intense staring into space moments.

18. He thinks it makes him look like a cowboy

19- It makes morons like us write another 5 pages on this thread discussing it.

20. He's hiding an even smaller hat underneath it

21. He's hiding food underneath it

22- His haircurler can't be plugged into foreign plugs as he forgot the adapter at home

23. It's a fashion accessory. He has a matching wallet with manly angles.

24. He's keeping all his stuff there, not to carry that "man bag".

25. Someone told him it looked "nahce"

 

sparkly 1-10 =???

xlindee 11,13,15,21 = is OK:thumb_yello:

Kelzy 12,17,20,23,25 = is OK.:thumb_yello:

niki27 14=???

happikali 16=???

Neiobi 18=???

sariflor 19,22= is OK!:thumb_yello:

veromica 24= is OK:thumb_yello:

 

 

 

thanks!

waiting for others!

 

HaHa Just saw the comment on MS. :roftl:

Nahce, very nahce. :naughty:

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Well, all this talk of poetry inspired me to write a poem.:mf_rosetinted:

Feel free to critique it all you like, I'm no poet. But what I'm really curious to see is people's interpretations of it, so analyze away.

 

Oh and there is a person on here who may recognize some of her own words in it, as it was written after a conversation we had. Please try not to guess, if you work out who you are....:bleh:

 

 

The Boxes (Not it's real title, but the real one reveals all)

 

The boxes lie,

unopened,

before me.

 

I see what any casual observer can see.

The boxes. Their form, their shape, their colour.

But that is all.

I cannot see what lies inside them.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

I am told that inside some are great treasures, that their outer guise is not always an indicator of what may be found within.

I am told that others have opened the boxes and that for many the treasures differ.

I am told that with repeated attentions, I too may be able to open the boxes.

 

Tick tock. Time passes

 

I leave. I return.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

I am told the method is gentle but insistent, a teasing open, that the boxes almost need to be coaxed to give up their treasures.

I am told that anyone can open the boxes without especial instruction.

I am told that although the outer may not always reflect the inner, for some they do point the way to what may be found inside.

 

Tick tock. Time passes.

 

I leave. I return.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

Maybe the treasures are not for the likes of me after all.

Maybe I will never know what treasures lie within the boxes.

I decide I don't want to know.

I feign indifference.

 

I become indifferent.

 

The boxes lie,

unopened,

before me.

 

 

I'm not gonna be around for a while, but I hope this helps to keep you entertained for a while and I will explain later what it was all about.

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Well, all this talk of poetry inspired me to write a poem.:mf_rosetinted:

Feel free to critique it all you like, I'm no poet. But what I'm really curious to see is people's interpretations of it, so analyze away.

 

Oh and there is a person on here who may recognize some of her own words in it, as it was written after a conversation we had. Please try not to guess, if you work out who you are....:bleh:

 

 

The Boxes (Not it's real title, but the real one reveals all)

 

The boxes lie,

unopened,

before me.

 

I see what any casual observer can see.

The boxes. Their form, their shape, their colour.

But that is all.

I cannot see what lies inside them.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

I am told that inside some are great treasures, that their outer guise is not always an indicator of what may be found within.

I am told that others have opened the boxes and that for many the treasures differ.

I am told that with repeated attentions, I too may be able to open the boxes.

 

Tick tock. Time passes

 

I leave. I return.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

I am told the method is gentle but insistent, a teasing open, that the boxes almost need to be coaxed to give up their treasures.

I am told that anyone can open the boxes without especial instruction.

I am told that although the outer may not always reflect the inner, for some they do point the way to what may be found inside.

 

Tick tock. Time passes.

 

I leave. I return.

 

I cannot open the boxes.

 

Maybe the treasures are not for the likes of me after all.

Maybe I will never know what treasures lie within the boxes.

I decide I don't want to know.

I feign indifference.

 

I become indifferent.

 

The boxes lie,

unopened,

before me.

 

 

I'm not gonna be around for a while, but I hope this helps to keep you entertained for a while and I will explain later what it was all about.

Ohhhhh. very good. :bow:

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