My name is Peter.
Brewster the rooster lives with me, now.
The story about the farm was just a ruse to set your mind at ease.
He is living with me in my apartment in Chicago, and has secured a lucrative publishing contract writing children's books.
He says to tell you that he is happy, here, and remembers you fondly.
@opmania wrote:
I wouldn't mind betting that George Harrison
Would give every cent he had and all the fame
And all his ideals to walk in your
Shoes right now
If you let him walk a mile in your shoes, he'll be a mile away and he'll have your shoes.
Well, that's me well and truly out of the game, then.
My money was on it being the 1812 overture.
It's a stirring piece of music, written to commemorate Russia's defence of the Homeland from Napoleon's invading armies.
Of course, the cynic in me wonders how a scorched earth policy could bet set to a score, let alone the miserable retreat of the French army as it slowly froze to death, but that's just the cynic in me thinking out loud, and it's not as though I can write music, anyway.
**bleep**
ignore the solution thingy
I just know green is your favorite
Color.
Trying to send you a pic of a
Rooster and this is identical to
What mine looked like.
A magnificent specimen
I like the pattern on the feathers, the black/white, grey/white. It's eye catching. And pleasing to the eye.
