musicteach
New member
Fine, I give up. Enjoy your stay..
EddieRUKiddingVare
- Thread starter EddieRUKiddingVare
- Start date
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
^ glad we got that sorted out...........
Dorsetmike
Member
For my first time ever on any forum I have used the IGNORE option to suppress the drivel from the initiator of this thread. I suspect I will not be the only one.
I find his(?) attitude and much of the content objectionable. His idea of what constitutes music is lamentable, if the tracks he has linked are anything to go by.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=post+*****
I find his(?) attitude and much of the content objectionable. His idea of what constitutes music is lamentable, if the tracks he has linked are anything to go by.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=post+*****
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John Watt
Member
Uh, uh, aaaaah, drivel is next to rivulet, and a rivulet can become a stream.
Am I, uh, streaming yet?
I've been channeling Jimi Hendrix all by myself for too long now, because I want to.
Now I've got a new phase-friend hovering about.
I don't think he's fully self-realized yet, more random than not,
or else he'd know he was Mozart.
Am I, uh, streaming yet?
I've been channeling Jimi Hendrix all by myself for too long now, because I want to.
Now I've got a new phase-friend hovering about.
I don't think he's fully self-realized yet, more random than not,
or else he'd know he was Mozart.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
Well that got the Vice Admiral sorted out too. This gives me food for thought you now- it was once said of Zappa music that had no commerical potential mmmmmm
I'm gonna call my music objectionable content lamentable (OCL) for short....
Glad Rear Admiral Appassionata John Watt is more in tune...... in a positive atonal way. Love to see some jimi again, long lost pal, thos could give new meaning to electric ladyland (on a harley)!! Am I Mozart- I think not - but you never know....But I feel Sibelius is more my style or even uncle fester- striking resemblence below don't you think?
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musicteach
New member
I have a question for you. And I would ask this of my own students, my co-workers, my own children, or anybody really. Do you think about what you're going to say--or in this case type? Or do you just let it be a surprise to you as well as everyone else? I'm just wondering.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
You could ask the same of Bob Marley and I would very very interested in the reply...........
Have you tried my music? Maybe that would answer your question ............
Have you tried my music? Maybe that would answer your question ............
musicteach
New member
Yes, I have. My wife's sixth graders who have only been playing for a few months sound better.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
Wow they must be very good - love to hear there stuff.............. could prove very popular in the outback
musicteach
New member
Nah sorry, I'd rather listen to my fingernails on a chalkboard.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
Have you heard to 4' 33" version of that by John Cage - its very good...............
here is a few more to keep you going
John Cage.
TROLOLOLOL.
Wagner eventually gets into heaven after waiting in Limbo for over 120 years. Bruckner, hanging about the gate, sees St. Peter let him in and is overjoyed - 'Master! You are here at last!' 'Yes, Bruckner, at last! Now I'm going to go in there and see what heaven is really like!' Wagner puffs himself up and goes strutting off into the mist but races back out about 10 seconds later and heads briskly towards the gate. Bruckner asks 'Master! What's wrong? You've been waiting over 120 years for this moment!' As Wagner races through the gate and back towards Limbo he shouts 'Yeah - and so have my creditors....'
Why couldn't Beethoven find his teacher?
Because his teacher was Haydn.
Why did Beethoven get rid of his chickens?
Because they kept saying "Bach, Bach, Bach!"
What did the conductor say when he lost his baton?
"Go Telemann I've lost my baton."
Why did Chopin cross the road?
Because he suffered from tuberculosis.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
(This is what it sounded like when Beethoven had visitors)
Two English-speaking tourists were in Paris in the 1850's. They passed by a magnificent house. One of the tourists said that it was owned by the composer of "Les Troyens".
The second tourist then said that he had heard that Meyerbeer was a very rich man, but he must be in a lot of debt with such an extravagant house.
Thereupon the first tourist said, "No, Berlioz."
Knock knock
Who's there?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
A man walked into a CD shop and asked the owner if he could help him. He had purchased a box set of an English Classical composer at a rummage sale and the print on the CD labels was too fine for him to read. So he described the situation to the shopkeeper, and asked him if he might know who the composer was.
The shopkeeper answered: "Britten?"
"Yes, I've already told you it was an English composer."
The shopkeeper then remembered another box set that he had recently sold. "How about the Bax?"
"No, the backs of the discs are just silvery, with no writing at all."
Finally the shopkeeper tried one more time. "Tippett?"
"Thanks for your help. I've tried that already."
Q. How did the car collector burn his hands?
A. He had to pull his Kreisler and Granados out of De Falla.
Last week I was leaving my favorite restaurant, the Crumb & Horn, near the Nickel Haus at the Harnon Court. I was admiring my new, Italian-made, Gonzaga Green mountain bike (on which I chitarrone quite well). Then I heard, faintly at first, someone calling my name (it was very hard to hear, but then you can missa lot of things because of the traffic and Busnois). I turned toward the voice and spotted none other than John Eliot (the Gardener), limping through the traffic toward me like he had just gotten a HIP implant.
"Be careful!" I said as an auto swerved around him. "I Wilbye there soon."
When I got to him, JEG didn't look well. "I was almost run over. I wonder if the driver of that Carissimi? But...but....OCKEGHEM!!"
"Bless you," I said.
"Sorry," was the reply. "I've had this contrefactum for days, and am only now re-Couperin. I got it from June Fillette, I'm Certon of that. And she has such a virginal face, too. I had hoped to get her into the sack-but that's not why I wanted to talk with you."
"What's the trouble then?" I asked.
"Well," said JEG, "I've just now heard the most tremendous rackett coming from the Church, which made my blood curtal. It sounded like someone singing, accompanied by some instrument I've never heard before. It gave me the feeling that it came from another world, so when I saw you, I thought that the two of us together could Handel whatever we find there."
"Thanks a lot, I was afraid you'd say that," I sighed.
As we approached the Church, (the Holy Madonna of Lower Yonkers, or as we all knew it, the Holy M.O.L.Y.), I became aware of a most unique music coming from inside. It literally chilled me down to my organum. I recognized that voice immediately! Dropping my bike, I ran to the church doors, pushed them open, ran up the balcony to the upper Tear, and found....The Infamous Herr Dr. Weghe! I immediately knew it was him from his most un-Rooley hair and the Perotin trousers he wore, as he stroked a strange little instrument that gave a most reedy timbre. And his Parrott-like singing voice combined with it in an absolutely diabolical fashion.
"Aha, we meet again, Doctor!" I exclaimed. "What is that instrument, and why are you here playing it?"
"My dear friend, it's a regal," the Doctor replied. "And since I Emma virtuoso, I will perform on it to pay my arrears and earn great acclaim and wealth. Here, let Machaut you how it works." But as he tried to Sheppard me over to the regal, I pulled my hand away. "Tallis what you will, Doctor, but I know better," I said. "It's really Pärt of your scheme to take over the World and eventually make everybody listen to accordion Music, isn't it?"
"You are much less of a Dunstable type than I would have imagined, sir," the Doctor replied. "But I Dufay you or anyone else to stop me!"
"Rommelpot! You're mad. Maybe I can't stop you," I retorted, "But the President of our early music society is Joe Skan, whom we call Da Prez. He'll make sure that nobody will Sweelinck your story. If what you do does P.A.N. out, you could earn a lot of lute. But if it doesn't, there will be no Haydn from us, because we can always Telemann in a lot O'Dette who's running from the Savall Renaissance Music for Posterity Society!"
"I would Figueras much," came the reply....
As we left the church, John Eliot and I were frustrated to say the least. Herr Weghe had made perfect LeClair his intentions. Dessus not what we had expected. "Canti be stopped?" John wondered. We knew of the hypnotic allure of his regal, and how it would be twelve short steps to forcing accordion music on everybody. "Let's go find our friend Mark Carpenter. He'll know how to proceed," I suggested just as the music we had heard in the church started again, but this time played on an accordion, and coming from the street. Then I saw Herr Weghe, playing as if he had no Kiehr in the world.
This music was definitely French Baroque, but with a strange familiar Latin beat underneath (dum, da-da-da dum, dum...). "That's some mean tone," John commented. Eventually, I was able to Pickett out as the infamous "Lully-Bolero". It made my head hurt to hear it, but I had no Asperen with me. Even worse, the effect it had on others made my hair Kerll. I watched as everyone on the street, including the neighborhood matriarchs Mrss. Rin and Ray (known to all as "Ma" Rin and "Ma" Ray) start dancing to the music's hypnotic beat. Not wanting to have a bransle on my hands, I shouted at Weghe, but instead of stopping his accordion, I watched him Huggett to his body as he ran down the sidewalk faster than a Byrd on the wing. Leaving John Eliot behind, I began to chase Herr Weghe.
Past the Cash 'n' Caurroy, over the Hill Yard and the Guarneri Bridge, through the Harnon Court we ran. Passing the Monument for the Dead of the Vibrato Wars, he eluded me by ducking into the Arbeauretum. I was nearly Besard myself when I spied a familiar figure, cigar sticking out of his mouth, in a rumpled, un-Rooley trenchcoat while Leonin on a streetpost. It was Lieutenant Sainte-Colombo, of the Visse Squad! "Can you help?" I called out. "You got it, Macque" he said, closing in behind me.
We entered the Arbeauretum, but our Hunt quickly Graun to a halt. Suddenly, we heard growling and barking ahead. Running through a stand of Bachswood trees, we found Herr Weghe cornered, Haydn his face from a stocky dog whose face and body were incredibly wrinkled. It Baird its teeth at Weghe as if it wanted to Goebel him up. I then noticed good ol' Mark Carpenter holding back the dog, which was evidently his. Soon, John Eliot and his friend June Fillette rode up on John's Italian motor scooter (John was famous for using olive oil in its crankcase, so it was naturally called the Vespa Della Beate Extra Vergine). "I wanted to find June to help on the chase," he explained. "I didn't know where she was, so I called and luckily was able to ricercar phone."
As Lt. Sainte-Colombo put on the handcuffs, Herr Weghe tried to explain. "Curses! I never Minter hurt anyone, but you people did Muffat for me--I just wanted to make some lute, that's all."
"Bull!" I said. "You may have taken a Schein to the money, but you fagott that regaling in public viol-ates the Lawes of good taste. And what's Morley, your plan for world dominants never diminished. I saw Eustache that accordion in your trousers when I chased you. Lawrence Weelkes you're not! You should Frye for this, but we'll have to be satisfied to Locke you up for good."
Later, we all met at the tavern owned by Joe Skan for ice-cold bottles of Heinichen and Watkins Ale. ["Da Prez" had built an artificial stream running through the place that turned a moaning mill water wheel, hence the tavern's name: Mill o' Regrets].
"Hautbois the way," Lt. Sainte-Colombo asked me, "How did you Tye Herr Weghe's dastardly plan to the music?"
"It wasn't easy," I replied. "I don't want tabor you with the de tailles, but I knew things weren't Picchi keen when John Eliot told me about the music he heard. I thought he'd went Encina ghost! But the 'Lully-Bolero' gave it all away. Still, I Otter give credit to you Mark, and your remarkable dog. Where did you get her?"
"Oh, you mean Ti-Yay," said Mark with a smile. "These Chinese Shar-Pei dogs are way too expensive for me to have Bott one myself. But my Aunt Montserrat won her in a raffle and gave the dog to me..."
Thus it was that Herr Weghe and his plans to conquer the world were thwarted, not least by Mark's Aunt-Won Shar-Pei Ti-Yay...
What does the average human say when he reads these kinds of jokes?
"Man, these jokes are so bad, I can't Handel them."
here is a few more to keep you going
John Cage.
TROLOLOLOL.
Wagner eventually gets into heaven after waiting in Limbo for over 120 years. Bruckner, hanging about the gate, sees St. Peter let him in and is overjoyed - 'Master! You are here at last!' 'Yes, Bruckner, at last! Now I'm going to go in there and see what heaven is really like!' Wagner puffs himself up and goes strutting off into the mist but races back out about 10 seconds later and heads briskly towards the gate. Bruckner asks 'Master! What's wrong? You've been waiting over 120 years for this moment!' As Wagner races through the gate and back towards Limbo he shouts 'Yeah - and so have my creditors....'
Why couldn't Beethoven find his teacher?
Because his teacher was Haydn.
Why did Beethoven get rid of his chickens?
Because they kept saying "Bach, Bach, Bach!"
What did the conductor say when he lost his baton?
"Go Telemann I've lost my baton."
Why did Chopin cross the road?
Because he suffered from tuberculosis.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
(This is what it sounded like when Beethoven had visitors)
Two English-speaking tourists were in Paris in the 1850's. They passed by a magnificent house. One of the tourists said that it was owned by the composer of "Les Troyens".
The second tourist then said that he had heard that Meyerbeer was a very rich man, but he must be in a lot of debt with such an extravagant house.
Thereupon the first tourist said, "No, Berlioz."
Knock knock
Who's there?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
Who?
Phillip Glass
A man walked into a CD shop and asked the owner if he could help him. He had purchased a box set of an English Classical composer at a rummage sale and the print on the CD labels was too fine for him to read. So he described the situation to the shopkeeper, and asked him if he might know who the composer was.
The shopkeeper answered: "Britten?"
"Yes, I've already told you it was an English composer."
The shopkeeper then remembered another box set that he had recently sold. "How about the Bax?"
"No, the backs of the discs are just silvery, with no writing at all."
Finally the shopkeeper tried one more time. "Tippett?"
"Thanks for your help. I've tried that already."
Q. How did the car collector burn his hands?
A. He had to pull his Kreisler and Granados out of De Falla.
Last week I was leaving my favorite restaurant, the Crumb & Horn, near the Nickel Haus at the Harnon Court. I was admiring my new, Italian-made, Gonzaga Green mountain bike (on which I chitarrone quite well). Then I heard, faintly at first, someone calling my name (it was very hard to hear, but then you can missa lot of things because of the traffic and Busnois). I turned toward the voice and spotted none other than John Eliot (the Gardener), limping through the traffic toward me like he had just gotten a HIP implant.
"Be careful!" I said as an auto swerved around him. "I Wilbye there soon."
When I got to him, JEG didn't look well. "I was almost run over. I wonder if the driver of that Carissimi? But...but....OCKEGHEM!!"
"Bless you," I said.
"Sorry," was the reply. "I've had this contrefactum for days, and am only now re-Couperin. I got it from June Fillette, I'm Certon of that. And she has such a virginal face, too. I had hoped to get her into the sack-but that's not why I wanted to talk with you."
"What's the trouble then?" I asked.
"Well," said JEG, "I've just now heard the most tremendous rackett coming from the Church, which made my blood curtal. It sounded like someone singing, accompanied by some instrument I've never heard before. It gave me the feeling that it came from another world, so when I saw you, I thought that the two of us together could Handel whatever we find there."
"Thanks a lot, I was afraid you'd say that," I sighed.
As we approached the Church, (the Holy Madonna of Lower Yonkers, or as we all knew it, the Holy M.O.L.Y.), I became aware of a most unique music coming from inside. It literally chilled me down to my organum. I recognized that voice immediately! Dropping my bike, I ran to the church doors, pushed them open, ran up the balcony to the upper Tear, and found....The Infamous Herr Dr. Weghe! I immediately knew it was him from his most un-Rooley hair and the Perotin trousers he wore, as he stroked a strange little instrument that gave a most reedy timbre. And his Parrott-like singing voice combined with it in an absolutely diabolical fashion.
"Aha, we meet again, Doctor!" I exclaimed. "What is that instrument, and why are you here playing it?"
"My dear friend, it's a regal," the Doctor replied. "And since I Emma virtuoso, I will perform on it to pay my arrears and earn great acclaim and wealth. Here, let Machaut you how it works." But as he tried to Sheppard me over to the regal, I pulled my hand away. "Tallis what you will, Doctor, but I know better," I said. "It's really Pärt of your scheme to take over the World and eventually make everybody listen to accordion Music, isn't it?"
"You are much less of a Dunstable type than I would have imagined, sir," the Doctor replied. "But I Dufay you or anyone else to stop me!"
"Rommelpot! You're mad. Maybe I can't stop you," I retorted, "But the President of our early music society is Joe Skan, whom we call Da Prez. He'll make sure that nobody will Sweelinck your story. If what you do does P.A.N. out, you could earn a lot of lute. But if it doesn't, there will be no Haydn from us, because we can always Telemann in a lot O'Dette who's running from the Savall Renaissance Music for Posterity Society!"
"I would Figueras much," came the reply....
As we left the church, John Eliot and I were frustrated to say the least. Herr Weghe had made perfect LeClair his intentions. Dessus not what we had expected. "Canti be stopped?" John wondered. We knew of the hypnotic allure of his regal, and how it would be twelve short steps to forcing accordion music on everybody. "Let's go find our friend Mark Carpenter. He'll know how to proceed," I suggested just as the music we had heard in the church started again, but this time played on an accordion, and coming from the street. Then I saw Herr Weghe, playing as if he had no Kiehr in the world.
This music was definitely French Baroque, but with a strange familiar Latin beat underneath (dum, da-da-da dum, dum...). "That's some mean tone," John commented. Eventually, I was able to Pickett out as the infamous "Lully-Bolero". It made my head hurt to hear it, but I had no Asperen with me. Even worse, the effect it had on others made my hair Kerll. I watched as everyone on the street, including the neighborhood matriarchs Mrss. Rin and Ray (known to all as "Ma" Rin and "Ma" Ray) start dancing to the music's hypnotic beat. Not wanting to have a bransle on my hands, I shouted at Weghe, but instead of stopping his accordion, I watched him Huggett to his body as he ran down the sidewalk faster than a Byrd on the wing. Leaving John Eliot behind, I began to chase Herr Weghe.
Past the Cash 'n' Caurroy, over the Hill Yard and the Guarneri Bridge, through the Harnon Court we ran. Passing the Monument for the Dead of the Vibrato Wars, he eluded me by ducking into the Arbeauretum. I was nearly Besard myself when I spied a familiar figure, cigar sticking out of his mouth, in a rumpled, un-Rooley trenchcoat while Leonin on a streetpost. It was Lieutenant Sainte-Colombo, of the Visse Squad! "Can you help?" I called out. "You got it, Macque" he said, closing in behind me.
We entered the Arbeauretum, but our Hunt quickly Graun to a halt. Suddenly, we heard growling and barking ahead. Running through a stand of Bachswood trees, we found Herr Weghe cornered, Haydn his face from a stocky dog whose face and body were incredibly wrinkled. It Baird its teeth at Weghe as if it wanted to Goebel him up. I then noticed good ol' Mark Carpenter holding back the dog, which was evidently his. Soon, John Eliot and his friend June Fillette rode up on John's Italian motor scooter (John was famous for using olive oil in its crankcase, so it was naturally called the Vespa Della Beate Extra Vergine). "I wanted to find June to help on the chase," he explained. "I didn't know where she was, so I called and luckily was able to ricercar phone."
As Lt. Sainte-Colombo put on the handcuffs, Herr Weghe tried to explain. "Curses! I never Minter hurt anyone, but you people did Muffat for me--I just wanted to make some lute, that's all."
"Bull!" I said. "You may have taken a Schein to the money, but you fagott that regaling in public viol-ates the Lawes of good taste. And what's Morley, your plan for world dominants never diminished. I saw Eustache that accordion in your trousers when I chased you. Lawrence Weelkes you're not! You should Frye for this, but we'll have to be satisfied to Locke you up for good."
Later, we all met at the tavern owned by Joe Skan for ice-cold bottles of Heinichen and Watkins Ale. ["Da Prez" had built an artificial stream running through the place that turned a moaning mill water wheel, hence the tavern's name: Mill o' Regrets].
"Hautbois the way," Lt. Sainte-Colombo asked me, "How did you Tye Herr Weghe's dastardly plan to the music?"
"It wasn't easy," I replied. "I don't want tabor you with the de tailles, but I knew things weren't Picchi keen when John Eliot told me about the music he heard. I thought he'd went Encina ghost! But the 'Lully-Bolero' gave it all away. Still, I Otter give credit to you Mark, and your remarkable dog. Where did you get her?"
"Oh, you mean Ti-Yay," said Mark with a smile. "These Chinese Shar-Pei dogs are way too expensive for me to have Bott one myself. But my Aunt Montserrat won her in a raffle and gave the dog to me..."
Thus it was that Herr Weghe and his plans to conquer the world were thwarted, not least by Mark's Aunt-Won Shar-Pei Ti-Yay...
What does the average human say when he reads these kinds of jokes?
"Man, these jokes are so bad, I can't Handel them."
JHC
Chief assistant to the assistant chief
Don't stop Eddie I missed the start of the thread but that in not unusual, good to see a nutter (sorry) another lover of good music your jokes are great make yourself at home and as a welcome pressy please accept this small gift on behalf of us all at MILF united.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
Glad you liked the post - As you might have guessed I couldn't thought of as a serious poster, music should be enjoyed..
Liked the pressie very cute, will go well with my emu's
nutters unite
Liked the pressie very cute, will go well with my emu's
nutters unite
If he posts here it does ... :grin:
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
Ah your too tough, meanie 
John Watt
Member
What is that newborn animal? I'm guessing a sloth.
I painted a sign in Niagara Falls for a business called Sloth,
so I know all about two and three-toed sloths, but that's about it.
Or is that three and four-toed sloths? It's been a while.
Bach to the future. Someone had to get here first.
I painted a sign in Niagara Falls for a business called Sloth,
so I know all about two and three-toed sloths, but that's about it.
Or is that three and four-toed sloths? It's been a while.
Bach to the future. Someone had to get here first.
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
^ Could also be a wombat - not sure?????????? could be sloth as limbs too long for wombat
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JHC
Chief assistant to the assistant chief
Give that man the prize a Sloth it is "you didn't cheat did you John?
EddieRUKiddingVare
New member
^ I'll give a wombat too if he likes