Den store juletråd 2015
- DetSorteCirkus
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- Daine
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
DetSorteCirkus skrev:Hvad er det for noget julesjov, der kommer fra DR1. 20.30?
Et Søren ryge program med kage Tobias. De bager over eventyret grantræet.
0
"I en tid med så meget ondskab, må vi passe på kærligheden", citat: Hr. Aurland
Jo mere viden man tilegner sig, des mere ved man, at der er ting man ikke ved. Ting man før ikke anede at man ikke vidste, ved man nu, at man ikke ved.
- Æske
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Eeeeeeeeej! TV2 Charlie sender Mød mig på Cassiopeia som kalendergave kl. 20.30
*MormorÆske*
*MormorÆske*
3
Det skal være sjovt, ellers er det ikke morsomt!
- DetSorteCirkus
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Daine skrev:DetSorteCirkus skrev:Hvad er det for noget julesjov, der kommer fra DR1. 20.30?
Et Søren ryge program med kage Tobias. De bager over eventyret grantræet.
Det lyder faktisk ikke værst.
0
- DetSorteCirkus
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Æske skrev:Eeeeeeeeej! TV2 Charlie sender Mød mig på Cassiopeia som kalendergave kl. 20.30
*MormorÆske*
Jeg har et så fint barndomsminde om den film, at jeg ikke tør gense den, da jeg i mellemtiden på nogle områder er blevet en mavesur kyniker. Og omvendt, hvis den stadig skulle røre mig, ville jeg blive ked af det pga. slutningen.
0
Re: Den store juletråd 2015
https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_ ... 0111944126
Mit indlæg kom lige på afveje og endte i decembertråden i fitness.
Men det var altså her jeg ville have postet det.
Mit indlæg kom lige på afveje og endte i decembertråden i fitness.
Men det var altså her jeg ville have postet det.
0
Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Whoosh skrev:https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1218895888124131&id=100000111944126
Mit indlæg kom lige på afveje og endte i decembertråden i fitness.
Men det var altså her jeg ville have postet det.
Øv, jeg var lige så glad for at vi havde fået det
1
cat has nine lives babe
nine lives to itself
but you only got one
x
nine lives to itself
but you only got one
x
- Fru Sunshine
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
DetSorteCirkus skrev:Æske skrev:Eeeeeeeeej! TV2 Charlie sender Mød mig på Cassiopeia som kalendergave kl. 20.30
*MormorÆske*
Jeg har et så fint barndomsminde om den film, at jeg ikke tør gense den, da jeg i mellemtiden på nogle områder er blevet en mavesur kyniker. Og omvendt, hvis den stadig skulle røre mig, ville jeg blive ked af det pga. slutningen.
Den ender da godt?
0
"Jeg elsker alle farver i verden. Især brun. Det er derfor jeg er det."
Kalenderlågeåbnerbjørnen Bruno.
Kalenderlågeåbnerbjørnen Bruno.
- DetSorteCirkus
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Fru Sunshine skrev:DetSorteCirkus skrev:Æske skrev:Eeeeeeeeej! TV2 Charlie sender Mød mig på Cassiopeia som kalendergave kl. 20.30
*MormorÆske*
Jeg har et så fint barndomsminde om den film, at jeg ikke tør gense den, da jeg i mellemtiden på nogle områder er blevet en mavesur kyniker. Og omvendt, hvis den stadig skulle røre mig, ville jeg blive ked af det pga. slutningen.
Den ender da godt?
Så husker jeg forkert Det er afskedsdansen og Poul Reichardts maniske flyvetur, der for mig står som de sidste scener.
0
Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Daine skrev:DetSorteCirkus skrev:Hvad er det for noget julesjov, der kommer fra DR1. 20.30?
Et Søren ryge program med kage Tobias. De bager over eventyret grantræet.
Egentlig er det vist et Kage Tobias-program med Søren Ryge som gæst.
Tobias skal vist lave 3 programmer her i december, hvor han i hvert program får en ny gæst, som skal læse et juleeventyr, som Tobias så skal forsøge at omdanne til kage. Jeg hørte ham fortælle om "Den lille pige med svovlstikkerne" i radioen i sidste uge.
Og så synes jeg i øvrigt ikke, der var meget kage over det, han lavede i går. Men det afspejler nok meget godt udviklingen i Den Store Bagedyst, som vi snakkede om i tråden om det program.
1
You can't spell awesome without me.
- Fru Sunshine
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
DetSorteCirkus skrev:Fru Sunshine skrev:DetSorteCirkus skrev:Æske skrev:Eeeeeeeeej! TV2 Charlie sender Mød mig på Cassiopeia som kalendergave kl. 20.30
*MormorÆske*
Jeg har et så fint barndomsminde om den film, at jeg ikke tør gense den, da jeg i mellemtiden på nogle områder er blevet en mavesur kyniker. Og omvendt, hvis den stadig skulle røre mig, ville jeg blive ked af det pga. slutningen.
Den ender da godt?
Så husker jeg forkert Det er afskedsdansen og Poul Reichardts maniske flyvetur, der for mig står som de sidste scener.
Der er et par scener efterfølgende.
Jeg elsker stadig den film. Magien er der endnu.
1
"Jeg elsker alle farver i verden. Især brun. Det er derfor jeg er det."
Kalenderlågeåbnerbjørnen Bruno.
Kalenderlågeåbnerbjørnen Bruno.
Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Jeg har fri i morgen og skal være alene hjemme hele dagen. Har planlagt at holde julehygge på sofaen med knas og godter hele dagen og aftenen. Har foreløbigt planlagt, at jeg skal se White Christmas og måske noget julekalender på DVD. Andersens julehemmelighed måske?
2
Don’t drink the Kool-Aid!
- Badesandalen
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
A Visit From St. Nicholas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
(Skrevet af Clement Clarke Moore, tekst kopieret fra http://www.blackdog.net/holiday/christmas/twas.html)
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
(Skrevet af Clement Clarke Moore, tekst kopieret fra http://www.blackdog.net/holiday/christmas/twas.html)
1
- Persnikedy
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Re: Den store juletråd 2015
^ Den er så smuk, og de små omkrivelser der findes på nettet kan også få smilet frem, om end på en anden måde
Du har ikke de nødvendige tilladelser til at se vedhæftede filer i dette indlæg.
1
Santa skrev:Penis.
Altid penis.
Re: Den store juletråd 2015
Verdens mest trykte avisartikel:
Eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York’s Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O’HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
REPLY:
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
Eight-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York’s Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history’s most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O’HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
REPLY:
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
0
Do as I say!