Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
^^^music plays^^^
My dearest Sally,
Today we arrived in the city of Atlanta. The heat is as oppressive as hell come to earth I imagine. These rebels have taken to ground at the sign of our approach, so we are glad for the rest. Our scouts report that they refuse any engagement, barely even a rebel yell when confronted. Some say they are beaten already, resigned to their fate. Others call it a ploy to make us underestimate them on the day of reckoning. We will know soon. For tomorrow I am certain that the order will be given to take the field of battle once more. I hate this place. No amount of sweet tea or even the strumpets at Onyx can lift our souls, though many have sought comfort there. Only victory can deliver what we seek. If we must raze the better part of the SEC, we shall do it. For only then can we return home, and revel in the victory coitus we all so desperately desire.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
Grapes. Purple. Pretty obvious what they're talking about.
They obviously are bringing out theGrape Kool Aid pitcher look circa 1989: purple pants, jerseys and helmets from the Colorado gayme.
The Left Flank has already succumbed to trench foot and dysentery before a shot has even been fired. The auxiliaries have been called up but I fear for their greenhorn lives against a group of hardened veteran defenders. If the flanks can't be held we may be facing a route and an embarrassing scrambling retreat by our captain.
Comments
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
My dearest Sally,
Today we arrived in the city of Atlanta. The heat is as oppressive as hell come to earth I imagine. These rebels have taken to ground at the sign of our approach, so we are glad for the rest. Our scouts report that they refuse any engagement, barely even a rebel yell when confronted. Some say they are beaten already, resigned to their fate. Others call it a ploy to make us underestimate them on the day of reckoning. We will know soon. For tomorrow I am certain that the order will be given to take the field of battle once more. I hate this place. No amount of sweet tea or even the strumpets at Onyx can lift our souls, though many have sought comfort there. Only victory can deliver what we seek. If we must raze the better part of the SEC, we shall do it. For only then can we return home, and revel in the victory coitus we all so desperately desire.
Yours truly,
Thomas
PS my sweatpants ripped in the front again
Otherwise, GRAA...
They obviously are bringing out theGrape Kool Aid pitcher look circa 1989: purple pants, jerseys and helmets from the Colorado gayme.