all cats are asshole cats
thirteen cherries do not a virgin make
the rich man sees eggs where the poor man sees hamburgers
the lighthouse of the soul is the agony of the moment
a candle that does not flicker cannot be trusted
introspectacles require no prescription
eyelashes are the sprokets of the face
dreams are as light as meringues and as heavy as lead
romance is to tungsten as opportunity is to halogen
one may sit on a floor, but only a fool stands on a table
the wise woman does not count her warts until dawn
a mouse walks softly in the cathedral
a heavy heart is like a leaky colostomy bag
seven asses braying is a ruined month
I saw this one in an old newspaper cartoon:
Yes You Can’t
fists taste the world’s tears, but never swallow
triple penetration—gayer than double penetration
Bíonn chuile dhuine lách go dtéann bó ina gharraí.
the floor of one man’s heart is the ceiling of another’s kitchen
balancing a tulip on a knife’s edge
where kind words leave no mark ironshod boots are useless
savor the reed of the bleating sax
the want of a window cures the house of misery
where a family prey they will stoop
to an old goose all fresh eggs are dubious
woe betide the fool who courts the woman with ashen cheeks
a wednesday bride will never want for clothes pegs
strike a man and you will soon see his kettle
only a straight road hides oncoming tractors
the lonely taverner and the cannibal are seperated only by the width of an axe
the cantankerous man will never find satisfaction in the ostrich egg lay-by of the full moon of Pisces
The more shoes, the greater the walking
the long road turns twice for the hedgehog
a badly intonated piano is no better than a wet towel flung at a speeding pensioner at midnight
never a wink in the eye of a donkey.
the third wheel makes the wheelbarrow
every thyme thy counteth magpies, thy parsley increaseth
when the milkmaid’s away, the cows speculate
going east on a cross-eyed yak
A head full of plans is like strong cheese to a blind man
no amount of remorse will make a cheese roll uphill
a man with a turkey will never go wanting
three bells ringing is worry to a bogsnorkler
a fell road that covers no heath.
a menstrual jewess is a treasure in Rome
an extinguished pipe contains no more wisdom than a damp twig being thrown at the moon
north winds bring undecidedness to the child
The sparrow tied to the branch knows only whence the wind comes
who eats on a feastday angers the tinker
neither rose nor lily shall tithe the dawn
no good ever came from a fart in a shoebox
A bottle for a bean, a petal for a queen
two issues behind in the Times
thine pendulous appendages impresseth not the shanty town beagle watching turkey of Eastbourne
A child thrice blessed with Asphodel never needst fear for shadows at the witching hour
a king can look at a cat
never tarry twixt shop and Harry
you can love a blind man
Accept ye not transport from robéd men leading badgers.
fashion makes pants
Does take but a moment of time
to marinade the fealty of line
you can’t have your ache and treat it
who builds his house on sand
best plan for visitors
Remember, lest thou wanteth trouble,
that double bubble rubble gubble
as from resoluteness springs incontinence, so from excess orderliness follows hemorrhoids.
five gundams for no one
all yoghurt need not curdle
The velvet sprouts of dawn do not revel in their chocolateyness, for they have formed the trifecta of the diptych
there can be no peace at home where the horse goes unmilked
As regrettable as a cock-snipe
a wise man without olfactory senses
knows no nose
bowl a spare on thursday
carve a coffin for sunday
grouse not in times shapeless
you can’t spell sanctimonious without emu
ratchet a bagel box goblin daily
a man may feast on three pineapples
spell Japan slowly
giraffe penises may be long, but they do not scrape across the ground
that thou thought this thou thought
do not pine after ground beef
an armadillo may request a tribunal, but a poor man cannot gargle eels without a license
A knapsack full of starlings may make a fine breakfast, but the wind will be whistling in the chimney come eventide
More confounding than a bag in a bag in a bag
tea and a rouble
spell trouble
that’s the best so far
the cricket bat may go un-oiled, regardless of whether the captain pipes the accountant to the shore
Badmitton to the pensive; poker to the pious.
a fowler may foul and err, but a baker cannot bake and r
there are always pros and cons to dancing
I like, this food
in the red door, out the green door
Keep your pen full of ink when the hatman comes calling
one can never have too many missed chances
hello, how are you
A life full of melodies is a life full of ants.
go where it is
is as does
never please a thanks
the petals of a flower fall slowly
i’m really trying to play up the inscrutable angle, sorry
co-ed naked volleyball
apostrophes are the devil’s tears
co-ed naked volleyball
― Z S, Thursday, December 1, 2011 4:01 AM (59 seconds ago) Bookmark Permalink
it is always 4:43 when the time runs out
You know what guys I feel like Tuomas’s thread of Finnish idioms did this better than I could ever hope for.
what Tuomas doesn’t know won’t hurt you
Elvis was never fat. Elvis, was never fat.
Sweet to the tired is bitter to the rested.
that’s far too scrutable, forksy-come-lately
i dunno how it could be; i don’t know what it means!
Come to think of it, that might indicate that I am tired.
how about:
The river seeks its own water.
Four out of five nickles are only pennies.
A broken twig never gave away an innocent man.
There’s a place in heaven for everyone, but hell is open to all.
Unfortunately, some of my adages are more scrutable than not. It can be fun writing adages that aren’t entirely random. It can be fun writing a scrutable adage with faulty pearls of stupidity because people will doubt their own interpretation for a more favorable, inscrutable interpretation—something with the possibility of having pearls of wisdom
faulty
only a churl explicates his own muddied struggle for wisdom
There is no such thing as a mistake in ceramics class
Only a baby will shake a leg for the fog man prophesies
it’s a rare scratch can’t be fair itched by a blair witch
every cowboy was a cowman once
The meticulous man is the tabbouleh on the meze table of life.
winner winner sheen dinner
Don’t discriminate, inseminate
Hanging your soul from a telephone pole
the worst you can expect is often the best someone else plans on offering you so fuck ’em
― silby, Thursday, 1 December 2011 01:12 (8 hours ago) Bookmark Permalink
I resisted, but: That’s the winner.
Holding out for a better looking, one-legged stripper
Staying young while working for a union is like paying for dental work under the table
the head of a chicken often hid the heart of a biologist
Any time is plenty time.
Pendulums swing but prisms refract.
when life gives you lemons, make time
It’s better to break horses than to gallop aimlessly
three sure things in life
pain, death and carrots
please don’t talk about baseball
possibility is a crane of deceit
a prussian in the russian embassy
minds his p’s and queues
it is always 4:43 when the time runs out
Only if the team is behind. It just means the keeper has come out for the last corner.
^ clever
Ain’t no train can train a train
A melon’s always mighty til it’s in the patch.
every time a pony smiles, a beetle gets its sun chips
Wear your glasses too tight, roll over all night.
The world does not need a stricter teabag.
Sounds to me like a case of the bird calling the beetle a bull.
What use is a sideways wheel to a sleigh hound in summer?
Coffee before you get 8on the bus will make you want to piss and cuss.
uh “get on”. also realize that was probably too scrutable for this thread.
there ain’t no funk without a mess of business
the salad needs to stay on the fork.
snow that falls on the heights is doomed to sigh at the torrents
chicken pox before nine, you’re doing fine!
the last cat is still envied by the first estate
Consider your friends as a farmer considers the hedgerows
seven on a bench makes light the sitting
early to sleep, early to beep-beep
count not the peasants in the meadow, but rather the number of holes in their shoes
even colanders sometimes want for advice!
a cauliflower may be as a bedpost to a junebug, just as a widow loathes deer ticks
a pharmacy what never closeth is like a paintstall in April rain
marking one’s words is sure to bring trouble, brief though it may be. marking one’s words twice, however, is utmost folly
a chambermaid is never satisfied until last night’s tales are recounted. a chamberpot is never satisfied until last night’s ales are recanted.
what comes between men and valleys is best saved for a winter’s long walk
much wisdom be wise, yet wiser still is the man who can hurl a dreidel to Tipperary
in the marketplace of ideas, it’s often the smallest gnu which registers the first objection
if pornography were baseball, then umpires would be blind to all balks
when desperation sets in, a pile of dusty handkerchiefs surpass a repast of luncheon meat
he who spites his enemy is like a cheesecloth which has never befriended curds
When all signs point to yes, the body says no
when has a man ever said, “oh, if it weren’t for my foot then Rome might answer to me”?
between time and a buyer’s market, better to halve one’s horse carriage
every widow has a granary, but not every newlywed once trod in quicksand
When reading a book don’t flip the page too soon; the book reads you too
show me a rose and I’ll show you a girl named Sam
A loving man will desire losing, a loving woman will desire chocolate
every deck of cards may be filed down, but not every gambler is a prince!
advice may be easily whispered to a pugilist, but in reality is best saved for his tailor
If you want to catch birds, slam a stick into a bush
shopping chastens the man who loveth to spackle
fair ladies are like coupons for Burger King, often portenting a ring in the alcove
many is the heart which pineth after a Dove Bar, few are the chocolateers willing to suck soap
when a man visits your house clutching a jar of Vlasic Pickles to his bosom, best to burn any unsorted laundry posthaste
when your Rice-a-Roni begins to boil, consider a move to Detroit
a man without slippers may lie contentedly forever. a man without a subscription to Vanity Fair will fail to elicit hugs even from his undertaker
a Belorussian playing football is like a pagan turning water into Gatorade; only the gnashing of teeth can follow
when in the vicinity of a Wendy’s Restaurant, best to pocket one’s sherbet
why pine for McDonald’s french fries, when there are children in El Dorado with no 7–11 Taquitos?
in the event of Pomeranians, best to urinate outside of a Motel 6
there are two virtues to defecating in a Sbarro’s pizza. neither of them involve anchovies
counting tampons before menstruating is like petting an igloo during a heat wave— neither will fatten your wallet or bring gladness to your heart
there are only three things that would-be bartenders love more than promotional coasters— upended swizzle sticks, henna tattoos and the Delaware state lottery
if you meet an Udmurt on the way to the carwash, best to put down one’s fruit basket and undo one’s buttons
15 years ago the swiftest road to misery was living in a luxury apt. building employing a concierge who moonlights as a Jay Leon impersonator. nowadays it is having Arsenio Hall as your houseguest for a month
Scattered are the remants of tuesday’s ghost
Until you beat your chest to the rhythm of the snow queen don’t shave your legs
ran adrift the reign of Thunder Balls
if you haven’t been in a magazine, then you can’t tell me anything about the law
Near a tree by a river there’s a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon in the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion there’s a wrong and a right
But he’ll never, never fight over you
Ears are windows to the heart.
Whipping shitties in the field is sure to grow next autumn’s yield.
you can’t read the leaves in a teabag