Hillary Clinton
Related: About this forumAdvice for kids: Dress for the job you want.
For the future president in your life.
Front of shirt:
"We can build an America where a father can tell his daughter, 'Yes, you can become anything you want to be.'"
Back of shirt:
"Even President of the United States."
American Made. Union Printed.
?
http://hrc.io/1L79EtN
hrmjustin
(71,265 posts)TlalocW
(15,386 posts)Unfortunately, the company looking for the computer programmer didn't appreciate my showing up in a Batman costume.
TlalocW
Thinkingabout
(30,058 posts)Gidney N Cloyd
(19,842 posts)Gothmog
(145,353 posts)Little Star
(17,055 posts)Donald Ian Rankin
(13,598 posts)You can build a society where your sex is not an obstacle to becoming whatever you want to be.
That's a much, much weaker claim, though.
William769
(55,147 posts)Donald Ian Rankin
(13,598 posts)TERENCE, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There cant be much amiss, tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make, 5
It gives a chap the belly-ache.
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head:
We poor lads, tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow. 10
Pretty friendship tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad:
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad.
Why, if tis dancing you would be, 15
Theres brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse, 20
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify Gods ways to man.
Ale, man, ales the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot 25
To see the world as the worlds not.
And faith, tis pleasant till tis past:
The mischief is that twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where, 30
And carried half way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck Ive lain, 35
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet, 40
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.
Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure 45
Lucks a chance, but troubles sure,
Id face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale: 50
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head 55
When your soul is in my souls stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast, 60
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all that springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more, 65
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat; 70
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as whites their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
I tell the tale that I heard told. 75
Mithridates, he died old.
Hekate
(90,724 posts)....f'pete's sake.