Kacha papaya pacca papaya Kacha papaya pacca papaya Kacha papaya pacca papaya.
A cheap ship trip.
The epitome of femininity.
The limerick is furtive and mean
You must keep her in close quarantine
Or she sneaks to the slums
And promptly becomes
Disorderly, drunk and obscene.
Linda Blair with great favour confessed,
She’d been exorcised, thus finding rest,
But alack and alas
Her old demon came back
and now the poor girl’s repossessed.
Our way of life resembles a fair. The flocks and herds are passing along
to be sold, and the greater part of the crowd to buy and sell. But there
are some few who come only to look at the fair, to inquire how and why
it is being held, upon what authority and with what object. So too, in
this great Fair of life, some, like the cattle, trouble themselves about
nothing but the fodder. Know all of you, who are busied about land,
slaves and public posts, that these are nothing but fodder! Some few
there are attending the Fair, who love to contemplate what the world
is, what He that administers it. Can there be no Administrator? is it
possible, that while neither city nor household could endure even a
moment without one to administer and see to its welfare, this Fabric, so
fair, so vast, should be administered in order so harmonious, without a
purpose and by blind chance? There is therefore an Administrator. What
is His nature and how does He administer? And who are we that are
His children and what work were we born to perform? Have we any close
connection or relation with Him or not? – Epictetus