Friday, 13 August 2010

Birds Don't Whistle, They Just Sing


It's Friday. Halleluljah! I wish I knew ya! This is the weekend, so roll up your sleeves and step out into the sunshine, feel the rays on your back, whistle while you wander. Whistle while you work, is that what I can see, a vague smirk? Do something that makes you squirm, don't even contemplate getting a perm (unless you're Dan Single, and you're ready to mingle or you just want to eat Pringles.) Walk barefoot on the grass, say in your best Scottish accent, 'my you're a fine lass'. Eat a cake or two, look at the sky so blue, don't go around sniffing glue, when you were small - did you say boo hoo? It's the weekend, it's time for freaking, let's go!


title of post from Angus & Julia Stone
image via The Sartorialist (wish I rolled out of bed looking like this, instead I am lily white and growing my hair out - ack! the pain.)

6 comments:

jodi said...

you're a damn good poet. and you know it.

Cath @ chunkychooky said...

I try to not look at the satorialist as it makes me feel SO DAGGY-however I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I unfortunately didn't roll out of bed looking like that but am pleased to report I did wake up NOT convered in wee from a three year old.
i love your poem.

Mon Alisa Design said...

I'm happy to report that I whistled quite a bit today in the cafe where i work. Unfortunatley for my customers they were tunes from Grease 2. Oh dear.

mama bear said...

That is freakin' the way your speakin'.

Do you see what I did there? Did you? Did you? xx

pS. your hair looks good! honestly. it does. especially the sparkly silver pink pony clip.

Nat Kringoudis Melbourne said...

tee hee! I love this!

Nat Kringoudis Melbourne said...
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