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Сonversational club
BassPaul: Я (да я думаю многие) хотят хорошо знать английский язык. Как правило, знание теории ещё ничего не означает, ведь помимо того, чтобы её знать, её надо уметь применять. А для этого нужна практика, а её обычно не хватает. Вообщем, идея этого клуба заключается в том, что здесь мы будем общаться только на английском... собственно можно даже выделить этот клуб (если мою идею поддержат) в отдельную динию и там создавать темы и т.д... Более опытные будут поправлять менее опытных. Ведь когда учишь кого-то то и твои знания укрепляются, улучшаются. Как вы думаете?
Sally G: yeah, you're right;) And i've never heard the word "lymerics"... Maybe "lyrics" is correct?
Maccarock: I guess "lymericks" is correct. A limerick is a five-line poem with a strict meter, popularized by Edward Lear. The rhyme scheme is usually "A-A-B-B-A", with a rather rigid meter. The first, second, and fifth lines are three metrical feet; the third and fourth two metrical feet. The foot used is usually the amphibrach, a stressed syllable between two unstressed ones. However, it can be considered an anapestic foot, two short syllables and then a long, the reverse of dactyl rhythm. However, many substitutions are common. The first line traditionally introduces a person and a location, and usually ends with the name of the location, though sometimes with that of the person. A true limerick is supposed to have a kind of twist to it. This may lie in the final line, or it may lie in the way the rhymes are often intentionally tortured, or in both. Though not a strict requirement, many limericks additionally show some form of internal rhyme, often alliteration, sometimes assonance or another form of rhyme. The form was popularised by Edward Lear, who has been grandiloquently dubbed "The Poet Laureate of the Limerick", in his A Book of Nonsense (1845) and a later work (1872) on the same theme. In all Lear wrote 212 limericks, mostly aimed towards nonsense. In his time limericks accompanied an illustration on the same subject, and the final line of the limerick was a kind of conclusion, which usually was a variant of the first, ending in the same word. This is different from the punchline or twist of the modern limerick, that usually has a proper rhyme. Since Lear's limericks are the best-known examples of the classical limerick, and since these poems were not yet called "Limericks", some have retroactively named them Learics, as they are not true limericks in the modern sense of the word. The Book Of Nonsense
Sally G: Thanks for that article I didn't know many of those facts.
Maccarock: THE OWL WHO WAS GOD Once upon a starless midnight there was an owl who sat on the branch of an oak tree. Two ground moles tried to slip if quietly by, unnoticed. "You!" said the owl. "Who?" they replied, in fear and astonishment, for they could not believe it was possible for anyone to see them in thick darkness. "You two," said the owl. The moles hurried away and told the other creatures of the field and forest that the owl was the greatest and wisest of all animals because he could see in the dark and because he could answer any question. "I'll see about that," said a secretary bird, and he called on the owl one night when it was again very dark. "How many claws am I holding up?" said the secretary bird. "Two," said the owl, and that was right. "Can you give me another expression for 'that is to say' or 'namely'?" asked the secretary bird. "To wit," said the owl. "Why does a lover call on his love?" asked the secretary bird. "To woo," said the owl. The secretary bird hastened back to the other creatures and reported that the owl was indeed the greatest and wisest animal in the world because he could see in the dark and because he could answer any question. "Can he see in the daytime too?" asked a red fox. "Yes," echoed a dormouse and a French poodle. "Can he see in the daytime too?" All the other creatures laughed loudly at this silly question, and they set upon the red fox and his friends and drove them out of the region. Then they sent a messenger to the owl and asked him to be their leader. When the owl appeared among the animals it was high noon and the sun was shining brightly. He walked very slowly, which gave him an appearance of great dignity, and he peered about him with large staring eyes, which gave him an air of tremendous importance. "He's God!" screamed a Plymouth Rock hen. And the others took up the cry "He's God!" So they followed him wherever he went and when he began to bump into things they began to bump into things, too. Finally he came to a concrete highway and he started up the middle of it. And all the other creatures followed him. Presently a hawk who was acting as pitrider, observed a truck coming toward them at fifty miles an hour, and he reported to the secretary bird and the secretary bird reported to the owl. "There's danger ahead," said the secretary bird. "To wit?" said the owl. The secretary bird told him. "Aren't you afraid?" he asked. "Who?" said the owl calmly, for he could not see the truck. "He's God!" cried all the creatures again, and they were still crying "He's God!" when the truck hit them and ran them down. Some of the animals were merely injured, but most of them, including the owl, were killed. Moral: You can fool too many of the people too much of the time. "SORRY, MY FAULT" There are some people, who just cannot admit - or even see - that they may possibly be at fault. In England, however, most people have moral courage and they have learnt the formula: "I'm sorry, my fault". They insist upon it. You must not argue and say that it was your fault because they get very angry. Once in North London I saw two cars collide and smash up each other's wings. Both drivers jumped out of their seats, shouting, "Sorry, it's my fault!" Neither of them even looked at the smashed wings and broken lamps, but a sharp quarrel ensued as to whose fault it was, each claiming the absolute and exclusive responsibility for himself. These magic words, "Sorry, my fault", are really abused. The idea is this: what can people do to such a decent, straightforward, open-hearted chap who always declares that everything is his fault? He arrives at his office half an hour late. He does not tell tales about traffic jams and trains being late, oven if one of these was in fact the sole reason for his delay. He says: "Sorry, it is my fault. I overslept." Of course, it is manly, decent and right to take the blame if you have committed a mistake. But many people seem to think that it is even more manly and decent if you are as innocent as a newly born lamb. It shows that you are not only human - well, you commit mistakes - but also courageous and honest. Criticism is silenced. One cannot quarrel with a man who says it is his fault, insists upon this arid proclaims it with pride. I think religion is to a great extent to blame for this. Many types of religion teach us that we may do as we like and get away with it provided that on certain days or occasions we duly and sincerely repent. I believe that a man can improve; but no one can improve retrospectively. You may be a more decent chap now than you were in the past; but you cannot be a more decent man in the past than you really were. Nothing that was said can be unsaid, nothing that has been done can be undone. You may call your wife a silly cow on Tuesday and the only treasure in your lonely life on Wednesday. But you cannot explain to her on Wednesday that, when you called her a silly cow the day before, you really meant to say she was the only treasure in your lonely life. You may try, of course, but only eighty per cent of women 7 will believe you! In saying all this, I do not wish to hurt anybody's religious feelings. If I have, I am very sorry. My fault. THE FOX AND THE CROW A crow, perched in a tree with a piece of cheese in his beak, attracted the eye and nose of a fox. "If you can sing as prettily as you sit," said the fox, "then you are the prettiest singer within my scent and sight." The fox had read somewhere and somewhere, and somewhere else, that praising the voice of a crow with a cheese in his beak would make him drop the cheese and sing. But this is not what happened to this particular crow in this particular case. "They say you are sly and they say you are crazy," said the crow, having carefully removed the cheese from his beak with the claws of one foot, "but you must be nearsighted as well. Warblers wear gay hats and colored jackets and bright vests, and they are a dollar a hundred. I wear black and I am unique." He began nibbling the cheese, dropping not a single crumb. "I am sure you are," said the fox, who was neither crazy nor nearsighted, but sly. "I recognize you, now that I look more closely, as the most famed and talented of all birds, and I fain would hear you tell about yourself, but I am hungry and must go." "Tarry awhile," said the crow quickly, "and share my lunch with me." Whereupon he tossed the cunning fox the lion's share of the cheese, and began to tell about himself. "A ship that sails without a crow's nest sails to doom," he said. "Bars may come and bars may go, but crow bars last for ever. I am the pioneer of flight, I am the map maker. Last, but never least, my flight is known to scientists and engineers, geometrists and scholars, as the shortest distance between two points. Any two points," he concluded arrogantly. "Oh, every two points, I am sure," said the fox. "And thank you for the lion's share of what I know you could not spare." And with this he trotted away into the woods, his appetite appeased, leaving the hungry crow parched forlornly in the tree. Moral: 'Twas true in Aesop's time, and La Fontaine's and now, No one else can praise thee quite so well as thou.
SunnySmile: Hmm... I read just first story about owl (but I'm going to read others). Very interesting. Do you know popular russian joke about boy in kid's house? Woman asked him: what is your name? He said: Maximka! Woman asked: who do you want to be? He said: cosmonaut! Woman think: He is so clever boy! Then she took boy home. When she asked again: what is your name? He said: Maximka! Woman asked: how old are you? He said: cosmonaut!
SunnySmile: Yesterday I went for a walk with one boy and his friend. We had visited child's camp together in 2003. He asked me: What kind of music do you like? I said: Elvis Presley, The Beatles etc... His friend was surprised: Ha! For what do you listen them? You can't understand anything! I was so angry!!! How can he make his mind about me! We never communicated before! Rrrrr... Hate people like this. Excuse me. Feelings...
michelle: SunnySmile пишет: You can't understand anything! He believes you're stupid :) Take it easy, we know the truth!
Sally G: Don’t worry! You know, every time people hear that my favourite band is the Beatles, they’re so surprised! They really don’t understand why I prefer this kind of music. I feel sorry for them. Isn’t it ok to listen to the music that brings you joy? Maybe it’s not modern music, but what of it if so?
Maccarock: SunnySmile Very funny joke!!! Unfortunally, lots of people think that we are not suppose to listen to foreign music just because we can't understand anything. But on one hand somebody do understand, like you, for instance. And on the other hand we listen to the music first of all. Music doesn't have a nationality. Don't pay too much attention to stupied people. :)
Maccarock: *** Two blondes were driving along a road by a wheat field when they saw a blonde in the middle of the field rowing a row boat. The driver blonde turned to her friend and said "You know - it's blondes like that that give us a bad name!" To this, the other blonde replies "I know it, and if I knew how to swim, I'd go out there and drown her." *** A man walked into a therapist's office looking very depressed. "Doc, you've got to help me. I can't go on like this." "What's the problem?" the doctor inquired. "Well, I'm 35 years old and I still have no luck with the ladies. No matter how hard I try, I just seem to scare them away." "My friend, this is not a serious problem. You just need to work on your self-esteem. Each morning, I want you to get up and run to the bathroom mirror. Tell yourself that you are a good person, a fun person, and an attractive person. But say it with real conviction. Within a week you'll have women buzzing all around you." The man seemed content with this advice and walked out of the office a bit excited. Three weeks later he returned with the same downtrodden expression on his face. "Did my advice not work?" asked the doctor. "It worked alright. For the past several weeks I've enjoyed some of the best moments in my life with the most fabulous looking women." "So, what's your problem?" "I don't have a problem," the man replied. "My wife does."
michelle:
Maccarock: Life: Explained A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them. "Not very long," answered the Mexican. "But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American. The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family. The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?" "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs. I have a full life." The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat." "And after that?" asked the Mexican. "With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can then negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge new enterprise." "How long would that take?" asked the Mexican. "Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American. "And after that?" "Afterwards? Well my friend, that's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start buying and selling stocks and make millions!" "Millions? Really? And after that?" asked the Mexican. "After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends." And the moral of this story is: ......... Know where you're going in life... you may already be there.
Maccarock: Yo Mama Is So Fat Yo Mamma is so fat, she don't take pictures, she takes posters Yo Mamma is so fat, she has to put on lipstick with a paint-roller Yo Mamma is so fat, her baby pictures were taken by satellite Yo Mamma is so fat, she needed her ears pierced with a harpoon Yo Mamma is so fat, she has her own zip code --------------------------------------------------------------- Твоя мамочка такая толстая Твоя мамочка такая толстая, что с ней получаются не фотографии, а плакаты Твоя мамочка такая толстая, что красит губы малярным валиком Твоя мамочка такая толстая, что её детские фотографии были сняты из космоса Твоя мамочка такая толстая, что прокалывает уши гарпуном Твоя мамочка такая толстая, что у неё есть свой собственный почтовый индекс
michelle: These are such cruel words to say to a woman...
Maccarock: It's a man's world :))
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