HonaloochieB

Although Tarot, I'm surprised you didn't tell Sazzle to make sure she keeps the card.

Rock Your Baby - George McCrae Spot on perfect song for this weather, says I.

I've only glimpsed it from the bus and on each occasion I've been returning from the Plough having spent a considerable sum on their Addlestone's cider. Would it be alright to have a proper, more sober, gander and get back to you? Hope so. Thanks.

I like to think it was me that gave Ravi his start, back in the day when the practice was situated opposite the Upland. Dr Gupta Snr was the man in demand then, when you could demand a particular doctor. Ravi was just a raw kid, the rubber of his his stethescope still unwrinkled and the blood pressure kit still unwrapped in its presentation box. Anyway, one day I ventured in, the chest infection burning in my bosom having caused me to leave a trail of flob along Crystal Palace Road. I was told that Gupta Snr was all booked up for a full two (hour) stretch, but I could have the boy pretty much straight away. Decided to offer the lad a break and what d'you know? Within minutes I was heading down the street to the drug dealer in North Cross with a 'script' in my hand for a patent brand of penicillin. After that, I never looked back, Ravi was my man. But success and fame entered the equation, no longer a doctor's surgery, now a medical centre, which means I can no longer have the personal physician, that I used to like to think of as 'my Ravi'. But I'm pleased that it's there and Ravi's still there. Who knows, maybe one damp Monday morning I might heave my suffering chest in there and we'll reminisce about the days when it was quite some time ago, and much quicker to get to the Upland on leaving the surgery than it is now.

Big Rock Candy Mountain - Burl Ives

Today at work, with only one of three lifts working, someone in the queue piped up, that there's 'Nothing worse than this, first thing in the morning'. I pointed out that indeed there was something worse, and that would be if there were no lifts working. His response was quick 'If there was none working we could all push off to a coffee shop until the management got the Otis people in' This got quite the laugh. There's nothing worse than being bested in lift small talk by a temp.

Ted Max Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- its favourite deployment of > lethal force being strangulation. > > Thus it was that these former Free-Lancers came to > be known along the Northwest Frontier as the > Contractors. I recall my Uncle Dashforth telling me tales of derring-do, he went to Australia and joined the Hutchence Choke as that particular band of free-booters were known. Mama would always inrervene when he tried to show me his photographs. Always referred to himself as 'one of the few, who woke up in time'. Always puzzled me that, but it made him chuckle.

And of course RosieH, it Blimey-Nora went and happened. Didn't spot it coming over the page. Mind, he's very thorough that KidneyPunch, I'll have to give him that. And he gave us that 'hot tarts taste of very little' line at the end, which I thought nice. There's a Jonathan Ross/Graham Norton/James Corden ten minute spot in the making there. Cheers, KP.

RosieH Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > KP, forgive my ignorance, but I have never heard > of this Alsace Lorraine (other than as a region of > great deliciousness). I know of an Alsation onion > tart, and I know of a quiche Lorraine, but an > Alsace Lorraine? Pray tell, what is it, and do > you have a recipe? Oh, blinking arse, RosieH, you had to ask. The chances are the bleeder will only go and pigging well tell you.

Kidneypunch! Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- It is that sort of attitude that i > believe is indicative of the moral decline of this > nation.... Kidney Punch, you said 'indic' which is so like nearly almost the same as like, IN DICK it couldn't be more similar if it tried.. You're so morally declined, dude it's just not true. Seriously, man I'd decline anything you offered if you was my waitress. Trus' me geez.

You got me at 'medically accurate plaster cast'. I just thought you could film from a way back and make it look 'near enough alright' like they used to do on The Sweeney. But like I said I'm not making fun, just pointing out what I thought was funny. Good luck.

Go on Bumpy, you're having a Turkish, are you not? Not having a go at all, truly. Gave me quite the chuckle so it did.

computedshorty Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > All those who cant get to the drinks. Have a drink > on me. Good of you CS. Damn decent one might say. Post some spondulicks our way and we'll toast your health 'til the kebab shop beckons.

Brendan Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > With a heavy heart I inform you... My heart already heavy with nicotine, pickled with alcohol and coated with irony was the only thing that wasn't broken when she left me. The B&O took a kicking and the book collection took a thieving and tearing, while the vinyl mostly got a skim across the road. With the heat, they pancaked out over the tarmac and were driven into it by diverse drivers. Some of them divs. Anyway, she left a note attached to the purple vinyl copy of the Squeeze single Cool For Cats, giving particular emphasis to the lines 'she left me when my drinking, became a proper stinging'. What an insult to be overed by a message involving that sort of forced rhyme. It's a frigging frigid bar, with cold people for me tonight.

dulwi1 Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Unfortunately until now I have not seen any celeb. > :( Hopefully this will soon change because I > really really one to spot someone who is famous. > That would be so exciting. Hopefully I will be > lucky soon and if this is the case I will let you > know. I don't know about anyone else DulWi1, but I've got everything crossed that you do, soonest. Just in case it might be James Corden, you do know he no longer counts, don't you?

How to draw yourself out of the ice-bath? Was it self-annointed? Self-appointed? Hands on the the side of the bath and you swift yourself over the side and against all the odds that you thought possible, you land on your feet on the ridiculous cotton mat. You stand and look at how impossibly shrivelled you have become, it's marvellous how small all has got and you glory in your coolness and wonder for how long you can maintain it. No towel-scrub drying, no that'll just bring blood to the surface and raise your temperature. Just straight to bed, wet and cold, f@ck the sheet, damn the mattress. Lie there and feel yourself unshrivel, gradually.

#If I should fall from grace with God and no doctor can relieve me...# I hear tell there'll be soda bread, holy water and Thin Lizzy CDs on sale. So let yourselves go.

Moos Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > SimonM Wrote: > -------------------------------------------------- > ----- > > One does not swash a buckle! One buckles a > swash! > > Oh God, I'm so ashamed. I'm going to be thrown > out of the Pirate Council now, with my buckles > ritually unswashed. And as fer yer Ol' Jamaicee chocolate bar, ee'l not be knockin' it back at once. Ee'l not be gettin' it at all. I mean, there have to be rules. See Squire Trelawny if you wish to appeal.

#One summer evening drunk to hell, I sat there nearly lifeless...# I believe there are also books, dowdies and T shirts etc on sale. So whatever you feel for, really.

Kidneypunch! Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > I have just had to get a friend of my wife's > teenage daughter to de code your message for me. > But I believe between us & the use of an online > urban dictionary we have got the general 'jist' of > what you said. > > 'Good point, well made', I believe is the correct > expression. 'Tings irie, well dread' is 'ow me an' me bredrins would a put it, so fine an' all. Me spar Bredda Clarence want to pint out, dat him would a' spell 'jist', 'gist'. So. Bredda Clarence, 'im quite da stickler in dese mattas. One Love.

This Heat. Quite the band. Group. Combo. What were they? Trendy-arsed funk of some sort probably. Hopelessly white-boy an' all I'd bet. I'd bet a lot too. But this heat. This sticky-oxtered groin-drizzle that just won't stop smearing itself all over you, requires a curbing. A kicking down until it it finds itself near the kerb, sub-kerb in fact. The freezer's the thing, obviously, it has to be. Big, stupid-looking and full of ice cubes. Badged-up as Hotpoint, despite it's only point being it's full of cold. Like I said, stupid. So you fill your bath with cold water, get a load of ice cubes from the stupid Hotpoint and throw them in. Chuck your robe out of the bathroom, into the hall. Wait a while, listening to the ice cubes making cracking noises and smirk that some of your acquaintances might be thinking about drugs at this point and congratulate yourself you're not. You decide to shed yourself of these losers while glancing at yourself in the mirror. Face OK, in a late Marlon Brandoese sort of way, but you can't help but deprecate the gut. The beergut. The gut full of it. Time for the immersion. Looking to the cooling. Maybe not looking so much as hearing. The oohing and aahing you'll make as you immerse yourself. So, come on, butch it out. Grab the side of the bath and it's feet in. Fine. Lower arse into water. Upper arse into water. Both fine. Now its going to be the cobblers. The bollocks. The balls. You feel hesitant. All synonyms for nonsense. So it'd be silly not to just dip the bastards and have done with it. And you do and of course the bastards shrivel, but you feel curiously detatched and leave them to get on with it. And just enjoy the clinking ice-bath for nothing more than itself.

Get over it KidneyP! And here's another sclamation! And 'ere's one more! See how you like it yourself, as I reckon Huckleberry Finn once made remark 'pon. Stop it now KP, it seem to me that it was a group of yout' dem just followin' their natural instinct an' ting, let de yout' dem flow wit' their naturalness and nah interfere wit' nah f*ckery. KP, 'ope dis fine you as it leave me. One Love. HonJahloochieB

What would the incorrect 'heavy rock' singer who met his end in the SE22 area with a last name that connected him to the chemical symbol Ag be in some sort of piratical fashion? If it's Wrong Bon Silver, then I be Dutchman, so I be.

You're talking about Aaaaarthur.

Corks, is Charlies, Marianne Faithfull's more rebellious sister? I think we should be told.