Half a cup of rice
one cup of water
put on heat to boil
then add tumeric powder to colour
shalots cut fine
If you have it beef fat or marrow straight from the bone
one slice of bacon and one egg
boil til rice is soft
add a pinch of salt
eat straight from the pan
(Verse 1)
Hey, get ready, don’t be sad,
(Clap) Time to dance like a tea bag, glad!
Up and down, it’s easy to do,
(Clap) Just follow me, I’ll show you!
(Chorus)
Up and down, like a tea bag,
(Clap) Wiggle your hips, don’t you lag,
Sway to the left, sway to the right,
(Clap) Dance like a tea bag all night!
(Verse 2)
Bounce it up, then let it go,
(Clap) Feel the rhythm, let it flow,
Shake your arms and do the jig,
(Clap) Dance like a crazy tea bag, big!
(Chorus)
Up and down, like a tea bag,
(Clap) Wiggle your hips, don’t you lag,
Sway to the left, sway to the right,
(Clap) Dance like a tea bag all night!
(Bridge)
Side to side, then back again,
(Clap) Dancing with your girl or man,
Laugh and sing, don’t be sad,
(Clap) Living it up like a tea bag, rad!
(Chorus)
Up and down, like a tea bag,
*(Clap)* Wiggle your hips, don’t you lag,
Sway to the left, sway to the right,
(Clap) Dance like a tea bag all night!
Stewart was a character—loud, opinionated, and with a wit as sharp as a steak knife. He was the kind of guy who could turn a dull Monday into a comedy show. He loved a good laugh, sometimes at the expense of others, and had a knack for storytelling that kept everyone hanging on his every word. His friendship with Gonzo was a wild ride—an odd couple of sorts. Gonzo, with his booming voice and loud opinions, was the king of the banter, always ready to rib Stewart about his terrible golf swing or his questionable fashion choices. Stewart, in turn, could dish out a brutal joke but always had a heart of gold underneath that gravelly voice.
They’d been friends for years, bonding over their shared love of bad puns, Sunday barbecues, and, of course, their mutual admiration for a good practical joke. Gonzo was the type who’d show up at your door with a bag of chips and a story that would leave you laughing until tears ran down your face. Their friendship was full of chaos, banter, and countless unforgettable moments—none of which, of course, included thinking about the day Gonzo might actually leave this world.
Then, one day, the unthinkable happened.
The day of the funeral arrived. Stewart was a bundle of nerves—partly grief, partly the strange sense of humor that he always carried. Things got even stranger when he found himself behind the wheel of Gonzo’s funeral procession, feeling like he was starring in some dark comedy.
First, they took Stewart to the hospital morgue, where Gonzo’s body was laid out on a slab. The morgue door was locked tight, but the grizzled undertaker—a veteran with a toolbox of tricks—whipped out a thin wire. With the finesse of a master thief, he flicked the lock open like he was opening a soda can. Stewart watched, a mix of amazement and disbelief, as the undertaker swung the door open with a wink and a grin. Part of him wondered if he was about to break into the morgue or stage a daring escape.
They approached Gonzo’s body. Stewart hesitated for a moment, then stood over his friend, now just a shell of the man he’d known. The undertaker, chatting casually like he was describing a Sunday roast, carefully loaded Gonzo into the coffin with Stewart’s help. As the lid was about to close, Stewart caught a whiff of something foul—an odor so terrible it felt like a punch to the senses. Suddenly, a foul, terrible smell wafted out, and Stewart gagged. The air was thick with the stench of rotten eggs and expired cheese. Without missing a beat, the undertaker looked at him and said, “Shit. He farted.” Stewart couldn’t believe it. The smell was so bad he was pretty sure he’d inhaled a meal from the depths of hell. He gagged again, desperately trying not to lose his lunch right there in the morgue.
Then, they moved outside to the funeral home’s sleek black hearse. Stewart climbed into the driver’s seat, feeling like the star of some dark comedy. As they pulled out, Stewart couldn’t resist. With a mischievous grin, he pressed the horn button, unleashing a deafening wail that made the mourners jump and a few elderly ladies clutch their pearls. Stewart waved sheepishly, trying to look innocent, but inside, he was already imagining the chaos that was about to unfold.
---
### The Process of Funeral Preparations
The whole process had been a whirlwind. Stewart had never been involved in planning a funeral before, and he quickly realized it was a mix of somber duty and absurd comedy. The funeral director was a no-nonsense woman with a dry sense of humor who kept telling Stewart, “Just remember, it’s about saying goodbye, not throwing a party.” Stewart nodded, but he couldn’t help but picture Gonzo, probably sneaking a joke or a snarky comment from beyond.
They arranged for the service at the local church, with Gonzo’s favorite playlist—classic rock, mostly—pumping through the speakers. Stewart joked that Gonzo would have loved the irony of his own funeral being a rock concert. As they prepared the casket, Stewart kept thinking about the stories he’d tell—about Gonzo’s antics, his loud voice, his endless jokes. Somehow, amidst the sadness, there was a strange comfort in remembering the good times, even if they were chaotic.
---
### The Humorous Chaos During the Procession
Finally, the funeral procession was set. Stewart, sitting in the driver’s seat of the hearse, felt a strange mixture of grief and mischief. As they entered the town, Stewart couldn’t resist turning the solemn occasion into a comedy show.
He hit the horn again, this time a bit more playfully, and as the hearse rolled through the streets, he started revving the engine and making exaggerated turns, pretending he was in a race. When they reached the cemetery, Stewart’s nerves got the better of him. He leaned on the horn a little too long, causing a few elderly mourners to clutch their pearls and shout at him to behave.
But Stewart’s mischievous streak was far from over. As the pallbearers lowered the casket into the ground, he suddenly pressed the horn again—this time, with full force. The mourners jumped, some even ducked, as the loud wail echoed across the cemetery. A few elderly ladies gasped, clutching their handbags to their chests.
Stewart being a demolition expert had arranged that in the hole dug for Gonzo's coffin he had placed a pressure switched so when the cofffin landed it would set off fireworks in the hole. well the results were amazing as all but everything was unleashed but he would never reveal who had done it trying to keep a smile from devoloping on his face.
Back in the hearse, Stewart couldn’t contain himself. He waved sheepishly at the crowd, mouthing “Sorry” with a grin. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he pressed the horn once more as they drove away, making sure Gonzo’s send-off was truly unforgettable.
In quiet moments, I find my peace,
Alone with thoughts that never cease.
No crowds, no noise, just my own space,
A private world, a calm embrace.
In solitude, I work and stray,
Dancing through chores in my own way.
Bollocks on, I do my part,
Free and unbound, a beating heart.
No need for masks or grand display,
Just simple joys along the way.
In lone contentment, I reside,
A man at ease, with time and pride.
In the peaceful town of Brightville, nestled between lush green hills and shimmering rivers, lived two friends whose curiosity and creativity knew no limits—Lily and Max. Lily was known for her logical mind and love of understanding how things worked. She would spend hours taking apart clocks, radios, and toys, carefully examining every gear and wire to learn their secrets. Her goal was always to figure out how to make things better, safer, and more efficient. She believed that with enough knowledge, she could solve any problem and make the world a better place.
Max, on the other hand, had a boundless imagination that took him to faraway worlds and fantastic adventures. His mind was like an endless canvas filled with colorful ideas—flying cars that zipped through the skies, talking animals that helped solve mysteries, and magical kingdoms with towering castles and brave heroes. Max loved dreaming big, and his stories often inspired those around him. While Lily focused on what was practical and real, Max dreamed of what could be, no matter how impossible it seemed.
One bright morning, the town announced an exciting contest. The challenge was to design and build an invention that could help the community in some way. The prize was a shiny golden trophy and the honor of showcasing their work at the town fair. Lily and Max looked at each other with excited smiles. They knew that working together—combining Lily's technical skills with Max’s imaginative ideas—could create something truly extraordinary.
Lily began by sketching detailed blueprints of their invention. She carefully measured and calculated how each part would fit together, making sure everything was strong, safe, and reliable. She thought about the technical details—what materials to use, how to make the structure lightweight yet sturdy, and how to ensure it operated smoothly. Her approach was all about "engineering"—using science, math, and practical skills to design something that worked perfectly and served a real purpose.
Meanwhile, Max was dreaming up a dazzling concept. He envisioned a flying car that looked like something out of a fairy tale—sleek, shiny, with wings that folded and unfolded like a bird’s. He imagined glowing dashboards, seats that adjusted to anyone’s comfort, and controls that made the vehicle feel magical. Max’s ideas were wild, creative, and innovative—beyond anything anyone in Brightville had ever seen. This was "imagineering"—the art of blending imagination with engineering to turn fantastical ideas into real, functioning inventions.
As days went by, Lily and Max worked tirelessly. Lily built the sturdy frame of the flying car, selecting lightweight metals and testing different designs to ensure safety and stability. She used her knowledge of physics and engineering principles to make sure everything was strong enough to lift off and fly smoothly. Max, meanwhile, created colorful models and sketches, pushing the boundaries of what was technically possible. He designed special features like wings that could change shape and a dashboard that responded to touch with glowing lights and sounds.
They often debated and discussed, sometimes disagreeing about what was feasible, but always respecting each other's strengths. Lily learned to dream a little bigger thanks to Max’s wild ideas, while Max gained a better understanding of what it took to make his dreams a reality. Their teamwork was like a perfect dance—balancing creativity and practicality, imagination and science. Together, they were creating something neither of them could have built alone.
Finally, after weeks of planning, building, and testing, their flying car was ready. It was a sight to behold—a sleek, shimmering vehicle with wings that folded neatly when parked and spread wide when flying. The interior was filled with glowing lights and comfy seats. Lily made sure every bolt and screw was secure, while Max added fun features like buttons that played music and lights that changed color. They both knew that this was more than just a machine—it was a symbol of their teamwork and creativity.
On the day of the town fair, Lily and Max proudly displayed their invention. As they pushed the button to start, the flying car lifted off gracefully, soaring into the sky amid cheers and applause. It carried passengers high above Brightville, giving everyone a breathtaking view of their little town from above. People marveled at how the vehicle combined Lily’s engineering precision with Max’s imaginative design. It was a perfect example of how science and creativity could come together to make magic happen.
From that moment on, Lily and Max understood something important: "engineering" was about making things work safely and efficiently, relying on science and math. "Imagineering", meanwhile, was about dreaming big and turning those dreams into real, exciting inventions that could inspire others. They realized that the best innovations came from blending these two skills—using imagination to dream, and engineering to build. Their flying car was just the beginning of many more adventures to come.
Their story became an inspiration for everyone in Brightville. It showed that when creative ideas are paired with practical skills, anything is possible. Lily and Max continued to dream, invent, and improve their world, proving that building dreams and innovating worlds go hand in hand. And so, their journey of discovery and invention continued, lighting the way for others to follow.
In the heart of ancient stone, concealed and deep,
A hidden soul in silent vigil keeps,
Within the living rock, where secrets sleep,
A whisper of the divine gently seeps.
Veiled in layers of time's sacred guise,
A single truth that only one may see—
A spark of the eternal, shining bright,
A fragment of infinity's decree.
Silent guardian of the sacred core,
Unseen but felt in every breath we take,
The soul within, forever yearning more,
Awaits the day the veils shall break.
Oh, seeker of the silent key,
Within the rock your truth does lie—
A divine identity, eternally free,
A spark of heaven in the mortal sky.
In the realm where dreams take flight,
Imagineering shapes the night,
With visions bold and hearts sincere,
Designing love, both far and near.
Engineering the perfect line,
Structures strong, yet so divine,
Built on trust and passion’s spark,
A love that lights the deepest dark.
Together, we imagine and create,
A world where love will resonate,
In every beam, in every seam,
Our hearts entwined—an endless dream.
Through the art of both craft and heart,
We engineer a brand new start,
A love designed with care and grace,
Forever strong—our sacred space.
Your eyes ignite a fire in my veins,
burning brighter than a thousand suns—
That chaos I can't tame, a storm I crave,
pulling me closer to the abyss of us!
Every heartbeat screams your name,
racing, reckless, wild and free—
a pulse that echoes into eternity,
tearing through the silence of my soul!
And then the explosion hit…
everything shattered in an instant—
and I… lost it all in the chaos!
Where honesty blooms like morning dew,
And integrity stands tall like ancient trees,
Love awakens in whispers of trust,
A symphony of safety and desire intertwined.
Feel the electric pulse of passion’s flame,
Burning bright within a sanctuary of respect,
Where every touch is tender, every glance sincere,
And the erotic awakens softly, yet fiercely.
In this sacred space, love is pure—
A dance of honesty, safety, and unbridled longing,
Where hearts dare to open, and souls ignite,
In the timeless rhythm of genuine affection.
Love boldly, love honestly, love safely—
For in truth, the deepest passions find their home.
I found a girl in shadows deep,
A silent soul I long to keep.
She’s lost, unspoken, out of reach,
Within her eyes, a distant beach.
She likes me, whispers in the wind,
A fragile spark, a hope within.
But fate’s a maze, and time’s unkind,
A fleeting hope I struggle to find.
Though she’s unavailable, my heart’s still near,
For in her loss, I hold her dear.
A distant star that lights my night,
A gentle dream, a flickering light.
Someday perhaps, our paths will cross,
Beyond the pain, beyond the loss.
Until that time, I’ll hold her close,
A silent love I cherish most.
In the silence of that suspended year,
The world paused, held breath, and drew near.
A breathless pause, a fleeting grace,
A stillness time could not replace.
Streets grew quiet, shadows stretched,
In empty parks, the silence etched.
Hearts beat softly, hope's faint glow,
A world reborn in silent woe.
Yet in that pause, with time held tight,
A chance to see anew the light.
Though doors were closed and paths were blocked,
A whisper of change gently unlocked.
The year the world stopped, yet in its sleep,
Seeds of renewal quietly did creep.
A pause, a breath, a chance to mend—
A silent chapter, longing to end.
Bugger me, I’m crook as a dog,
Feeling pretty rough, like a true blue bog.
Lay in me bed, with a sore head,
Wish this bloody sickness would clear instead.
Fair dinkum hope I’ll soon be right,
Struth, I’ll fight this with all my might.
Chapter 1: The Tapestry of Love
Her life was a delicate tapestry—woven with threads of love, loss, hope, and quiet resilience. Each strand represented a moment, a memory, a heartbeat that had shaped her existence. When she met him, everything changed—her world suddenly burst into color, brighter and more vibrant than before. Her heart, once guarded and hesitant, opened slowly, cautiously at first, then with abandon. Their connection was a rare, tender flame—flickering but unwavering, guiding her through the darkest nights and brightest days. It was a love that quietly grew, rooted in trust, understanding, and the gentle strength of companionship. For the first time, she felt seen, truly understood, and loved without condition. That love became her anchor, her guiding star, illuminating her path forward.
She often wondered how such a profound connection had entered her life—like a gift from the universe, unexpected yet perfectly timed. Her days became brighter, her nights filled with dreams of a future she dared to hope for. Every smile, every touch, every shared silence was a treasure—an affirmation that she was loved in the most sacred, purest way. Her heart, once guarded by fear and sorrow, now beat with renewed purpose. In his presence, she discovered that love could be gentle but mighty, capable of healing wounds she didn’t even realize she carried. Her life, once a quiet existence, now shimmered with the promise of something everlasting.
Chapter 2: Building a Life Together
Together, they built a life filled with quiet, everyday miracles—moments that seemed insignificant but were actually the foundation of something extraordinary. Laughter echoed through their home, filling every room with warmth and light, creating a sanctuary she never wanted to leave. Their days were simple but meaningful—shared breakfasts, quiet walks, and evenings spent in comfortable silence that spoke volumes. Even in the smallest gestures—the brushing of her hand, a reassuring squeeze—they found a language only lovers understand. Their love was woven into the fabric of their daily lives, more profound than grand gestures or romantic words. It was in the way he looked at her, in the gentle way he took her hand, and in the unspoken promises they made every day.
They created routines and rituals that held their love steady amid life's chaos—morning coffees, shared sunsets, and whispered goodnights. His presence was her refuge, a steadying force that made her feel safe and cherished. Her heart knew that this love was rare—something she would guard fiercely, even in her quiet moments of doubt. Every day was an affirmation that love could thrive in the simplest acts—an unspoken vow that they would face whatever came together. She treasured these small, sacred moments; they became the threads that held her heart together through life’s inevitable storms. Their love was a gentle but unbreakable bond—proof that even in the quietest times, love could be resilient and enduring.
---
Chapter 3: The Passage of Time
As the years slipped by, she watched him grow older—lines etching themselves into his face, a testament to the life they had shared. Her admiration for him deepened with each passing day, rooted in the quiet strength he carried within. She loved the way he still looked at her—full of tenderness, reverence, and a kind of quiet devotion that never faded. She cherished his kindness, his patience, and the way he had loved her—steadfast and unwavering, even when life tested them. Their love became more than just passion; it was a sanctuary—a safe harbor where they found peace amid the storms of life. She saw in him her reflection, her partner, her confidant, and her greatest gift.
Their bond was a testament to the enduring power of love—built on mutual respect, gentle patience, and unspoken promises. She knew that their connection was rare—something that many spend a lifetime searching for and never find. Even as the world around them changed, their love remained a constant—a quiet, steady force that grounded her. It was in the way he held her hand during difficult times, in the way he listened without judgment, and in the warmth of his embrace after a long day. That love, so deep and true, had become her sanctuary—her refuge from pain, her source of strength. It was a love that whispered softly but carried the weight of eternity, filling her with gratitude she could barely put into words.
Chapter 4: The Greatest Challenge
But life, with its cruel unpredictability, eventually brought their greatest challenge—his illness. She watched helplessly as the vibrant man she loved—the one who once filled every room with his laughter—began to fade. His body, once strong and resilient, grew frail, and her heart ached at the sight. She felt her world shrinking, her heart breaking anew with each day he grew weaker, yet her love only deepened. She stayed by his side, holding his hand as if her very touch could somehow hold him together. She whispered words of reassurance, even when her own voice trembled with emotion, knowing that her presence was his greatest comfort.
In his final days, silence became their language—an unspoken understanding of the love that had sustained them through decades. She watched the light fade from his eyes, but in that moment, she knew their love was eternal—an unbreakable bond that no force on earth, not even death, could sever. When he finally took his last breath, an ocean of grief engulfed her. Her world felt shattered, and the hollow ache in her chest was a pain so raw it left her gasping. Tears streamed down her face—silent, uncontrollable—each one a testament to the love she had lost. She clung to the memories—the gentle touch, the whispered promises, the life they had shared that now seemed so fragile. Her love for him was etched into every fiber of her being, and in that moment, she mourned not just his absence but the loss of her own future.
---
Chapter 5: The Quiet Aftermath
In the days, weeks, and months that followed, she wandered through her home as if in a dream—her heart wounded but still beating. The ache was a dull, persistent hum in her chest, but she fought to find meaning in the silence left behind. Her love for her children, her siblings, her parents—these bonds became her anchors, reminding her that life was still worth living, even when her soul felt broken. Slowly, she began to piece herself back together, learning to breathe again without him by her side. But the memories haunted her—every smile, every touch, every shared moment—etched into her mind like sacred relics.
She often found herself staring at a corner of the room, whispering silent prayers to the man she had loved so fiercely. The void was vast, filled with longing and grief, yet within her, a fragile glimmer of hope began to emerge. Her tears became a silent prayer, a way to honor her love and to release the pain that threatened to consume her. She realized that grief was a journey—one she could not rush or deny—and that healing was a slow, sacred process. Her love for him remained her guiding light, a sacred fire that no amount of darkness could extinguish.
Chapter 6: An Unexpected Encounter
One day, unexpectedly, her life took a gentle turn. She met someone—kind, compassionate, with a warmth that stirred a long-forgotten ember within her. Their connection was slow to develop, born from shared understanding and mutual respect. At first, she hesitated—fear and guilt still haunted her—yet something about him called to her, like a soft whisper in the wind.
Their friendship deepened, rooted in quiet conversations and gentle gestures that slowly unraveled her defenses. She felt her heart stir—tentatively, cautiously—yet it was a welcome feeling, a sign that life was still capable of surprising her. Over time, their bond grew from friendship into something tender, fragile, yet profound—a love born not from need but from hope. It was different from her first love, but no less real or meaningful. It was a gentle reminder that healing was possible—that life could still surprise her with moments of happiness amid the pain.
Chapter 7: Learning to Love Again
With him, she learned to trust again, to open her heart without fear of betrayal or guilt. His tender touch was a balm to her wounded soul, and his presence a reassurance that life still held beauty and possibility. Their love blossomed quietly—like a delicate flower unfolding in the warmth of spring—soft, subtle, yet resilient. Her heart, once guarded and heavy, began to feel lighter, freer. Her smile returned, hesitant at first, then more confident, as she allowed herself to feel the joy she thought she’d lost forever.
Every shared moment became a precious gift—an affirmation that she was capable of love again, that her heart was still resilient enough to heal. Her past love never left her; it remained a sacred part of her, etched into her soul. But she was learning that love could evolve—change, deepen, and grow. Her tears, once born of guilt and grief, now carried a new meaning—acceptance, grace, and hope.
Chapter 8: Embracing the Future
Her life, scarred by loss but illuminated by love, became a testament to resilience. She carried the memory of her first love with reverence—an eternal flame that would never die. But she also welcomed the possibility of new happiness, of a future filled with gentle joy. Her heart expanded to hold both loves—honoring the sacred past while opening to the promise of tomorrow.
She understood that love was not a betrayal but a continuation—a sacred act of healing, of embracing life’s complexity. The tears she shed now were softer, more forgiving—reminding her of her strength and capacity to love beyond pain. Her journey was one of grace—an acceptance that loving again did not diminish what she had lost but enriched what she still had to give.
Chapter 9: Moving Forward
With each passing day, she stepped into her future with courage and an open heart. Her spirit was anchored in her family’s love, in the knowledge that love was infinite—that her capacity to love was unending. Tears often welled up—not out of despair but gratitude, recognition, and hope. Her past remained a sacred part of her—an indelible mark on her soul—yet she no longer saw it as a chain but as a foundation.
She allowed herself to dream again, to hope, to believe that happiness was still within reach. Her heart, once broken, had healed enough to beat with new strength. She carried her memories gently, like treasured keepsakes, and embraced the unknown with courage. Her story was one of resilience—proof that love, no matter how deeply lost or how painfully gained, endures beyond the boundaries of time and death.
Epilogue: A New Dawn
She didn’t die. Not in the way the world often fears—her spirit endured, resilient and unbroken. Though her heart had been shattered, it had also been mended in ways she never thought possible. She had carried her love, her grief, and her hope through the darkest nights and brightest days, each step forging her into a stronger, wiser woman. Her journey was far from over; it was a new beginning—one filled with quiet strength, acceptance, and gentle hope.
The years had taught her that love was not solely about holding on but about learning to let go with grace. She had learned that healing came in waves, sometimes gentle, sometimes fierce, but always moving forward. Her heart, once heavy with loss, now beat with a steadier rhythm—filled with gratitude for the love she had known and the love she was still open to receiving. She knew she carried her past, her memories, and her pain not as burdens but as sacred parts of her story—proof that she had loved deeply and had the courage to keep loving.
Every morning, she awoke with a quiet awareness that life was a gift—fragile, precious, and fleeting. She embraced each day with open arms, thankful for the simple beauty of being alive—for her family’s laughter, her own renewed sense of hope, and the love that still found its way into her heart. Her journey was a testament to resilience; her spirit, a testament to the enduring power of love.
She often looked up at the sky, feeling her loved ones—her husband, her soulmate—whispering in the breeze, guiding her with invisible threads of connection. Though they may have been apart in the physical realm, she knew their love remained woven into the fabric of her very being. And one day, if fate allowed, perhaps their spirits would meet again—beyond the boundaries of this life, in a place where love was eternal and unbreakable.
Until then, she moved forward—stronger, wiser, and more hopeful than ever. Her heart had been broken, yes, but it had also healed, blossoming anew in the warmth of life’s endless possibilities. She understood now that love was infinite—an unending thread that connected souls beyond time, beyond pain, beyond death.
And as she stepped into each new day, she carried with her a quiet certainty: her story was still being written. Her journey was ongoing, filled with new beginnings and the hope of love’s endless return. She was alive, and in that alive-ness, she found her greatest strength—her unbreakable, resilient heart, beating boldly into the future.
