The most important day of life....

So what is the most important day of life? A thought that occurred to me as I await the arrival of our child about 5000 miles away from where my wife is....is becoming the parent the most important day of my life? Emotionally thinking, I might be tempted to say yes - although my wife would certainly disagree and classify it plainly as the most painful day of her life!! If I am not emotionally speaking, then I really do not know... The day I was born was also an important day after all, as all other potential candidates days for being the most important days of my life certainly depended on this day to happen. On the other hand, given the kind of ass I have been in life, my parents may not think of that day as being terribly important - may be they think it was just terrible :). The day I scraped through my graduation was also quite important day at that point in time .... certainly the most important one since I managed to "pass" an exam which I had excelled in failing.....Was the day I married the most important? My wife will generally disagree, except of course when I forget the anniversary  - I have certainly learned it the hard way - hell hath no fury like a wife catching you missing the anniversary.......I am still trying to figure out the most important day as I welcome our young one to this world.....

And another one...

Colonel Fazackerley

Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth -Toast
Bought an old castle complete with a ghost,
But someone or other forgot to declare
To Colonel Fazack that the spectre was there.

On the very first evening, while waiting to dine,
The Colonel was taking a fine sherry wine,
When the ghost, with a furious flash and a flare,
Shot out of the chimney and shivered, 'Beware!'

Colonel Fazackerley put down his glass
And said, 'My dear fellow, that's really first class!
I just can't conceive how you do it at all.
I imagine you're going to a Fancy Dress Ball ?'

At this the dread ghost gave a withering cry.
Said the Colonel (his monocle firm in his eye),
'Now just how you do it I wish I could think.
Do sit down and tell me and please have a drink.'

The ghost in his phospherous cloak gave a roar
And floated about between ceiling and floor.
He walked through a wall and returned through a pane
And backed up the chimney and came down again.

Said the Colonel, 'With laughter I'm feeling quite weak!'
(As trickles of merriment ran down his cheek).
'My house - warming party I hope you won't spurn.
You must say you'll come and you'll give us a turn!'

At this, the poor spectre-quite out of his wits-
Proceeded to shake himself almost to bits.
He rattled his chains and he clattered his bones
And he filled the whole castle with mumbles and moans.

But Colonel Fazackerley, just as before,
Was simply delighted and called out, 'Encore!'
At which the ghost vanished, his efforts in vain,
And never was seen at the castle again.

'Oh dear, what a pity!' said Colonel Fazack.
'I don't know his name, so I can't call him back.'
And then with a smile that was hard to define,
Colonel Fazackerley went in to dine.

By: Charles Causley

Simon Snoot's Whiskers

Just found the poem I used to absolutely love in the school days thanks to another blogger...posting it in full...

T'was a long time ago,
Come next Friday,
That Simon Sebastian Snoot,
Set out one fine day,
to enlist in, The Hundred and Thirtieth Foot.

Now a handsome young soldier was Simon,
the pride of the ladies for miles.
With a pair of the duckiest whiskers
and one of those dentifrice smiles.

Now Simon was proud of his whiskers,
he would comb them while going to bed
and secretly rub them with onions,
to cause them to flourish and spread.
and the longer they grew and more glossy, a sort of a gingery shade,
the sergeants got jealous, a low lot of fellows,
and Simon was checked on parade.

"Say, whats all that stuff?
That seaweed which grows on your face?
It may be allright in the Navy,
but here it is quite out of place!
We have'nt got room for a soldier
who doesnt look tidy and neat,
so get back to barracks, my hearty,
and shave off those feathers, tout de suite!"

"My pardon", said Simon, saluting,
"but really I'm bound to refuse,
these whiskers of mine are expensive,
they cost me a lot in shampoos!"

They're the pride and delight of the army,
these wonderful fringes of mine,
and sooner than lose them, dear sergeant,
I think I'd prefer to resign!

So the sergeant he sent for the captain,
who stormed at the subborn recruit,
"Why, that's not a beard, it's an ambush,
come out of the undergrowth, Snoot!"

Now Simon was hard and resented,
the insult that was cast on his face,
"Your remarks, Sir, are uncalled for,
unkindly and quite out of place!"

So the captain he sent for the Colonel,
who stuttered and stammered and swore,
the colonel used language infernal,
and stomped to and fro on the floor.

"Come out of the bushes!" he bellowed,
with adjectives common and coarse,
"You Hairy Gorilla, arrest him!
and shave off that fungus by force!"

Now Simon went down on his marrows,
and cried with a pitiful moan,
"Oh, put me in clink for a fortnight,
but leave my whiskers alone!
For think how they'd help a poor soldier,
in keeping his chest nice and warm,
and when we're told to take cover,
they help me weather the storm!"

"The enemy may think I'm a gross bush,
or maybe a bundle of hay,
oh, take my Victoria Cross, Sir!
but leave my Whiskers I pray!"

But the Colonel was harder than iron,
and cried with a terrible shout,
"You'll have them shaved off,
or by God I'll have you and your whiskers drummed out!

So the next morning Simon paraded,
and out of the army was packed,
with no where to go and no money,
but still with his whiskers intact.

"I'll go the the workhouse, where board and lodging are free,
but stay, here's a travelling circus,
a bearded lady I'll be!

So he went to the circus proprietor,
and told him his tale with a sob,
and curious fate, too strange to relate,
the circus man gave him a job!

In a second hand shirt and a jumper,
and a couple of pink petticoats,
Simon crept into his tent which he shared with,
a pair of performing goats.

And when the moonlight shown down on his whiskers,
for which he made such a fight,
the goats thought they were a new kind of hay /
and chewed them all off at night!