HonaloochieB

I recently received a letter from the marketing director of Thames Water. His surname is Tempest. Is he taking the piss or what?

Thanks WMTD, what did Chris Evans ever see in him?

It all seemed to start off so well. The Doctor, leaping about, herself up the duff, her bloke with a ponytail and everything And you'd think that pensioners with green alien penis tongues would just add to the larks. But incredibly it didn't. After 17 minutes it became becalmed, endullened and forgettable (who was that little fellow with the grating voice?). I reckon that 97% of the people watching did what I did. After 17 and a half minutes, cracked open a large Peroni and switched over to the DVD of the third series of The Sopranos. Tell me about it.

I'm not competent to post pictures, but Loose Women's shrillest, Carol McGiffin and Warner Brothers saddest dog Droopy. Seperarated at birth? What d'you reckon, Coleen?

Ladymuck Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Why Mr. Boogie. You iz mah biggest NIGHTMARE. > > YOU REALLY GOT ME wild now you hear...wid all your > SHOUTING AND POINTING. Or iz you just BLOWIN IN > THE WIND? Well let me tell you Mr Boogie, you iz > BARKING UP THE WRONG TREE with all your SHOUTING > AND POINTING. > > I WISH I WAS YOUR MOTHER coz then this MIDNIGHT > LADY would kick your ass ALL THE WAY TO MEMPHIS. > > So head on back to YOUR OWN BACK YARD and be > mindin your own bisness - you hear? > > MOVIN ON... Frankly LM, I didn't think I could admire you more but you've outdone yourself here. I'll be carrying your post in my heart when I'm up at the Barbican this Sunday to see IH. I'll be lofting a glass in your general direction. You be sure of it.

Penguin68 Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > I do recall when I lived in Chelsea in the > seventies seeing a youngish woman stark naked > except for sturdy boots walking calmy into a > launderette with a bag of washing at 9.00 am on a > Sunday morning. It was summer (and quite a hot > one) and it was the height of the punk era, and > she didn't seem in any way distressed, rather > extremely laid-back. But it was a surprise. Public > nudity wasn't entirely uncommon back then, but not > normally at 9.00 am on Sundays. Nice anecdote, Penguin and i love the way you begin it with "I do recall". Had I seen a naked woman wearing hiking boots in my local (perhaps even beautiful) launderette, the memory would be seared into my brain. It could probably, even to this day disturb some synapses when I conjured up the image. Which, by the way I would do on a regular basis. Was she a punk? How could you tell? How was her hair? Did you speak to her? I wonder, was she at Malolm McLaren's funeral? That'd be a giveaway.

katie1997 Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Don't go in there that much but have noticed : > > Quicker service - check. > Marmite rice cakes - check. > > So (tu) from me, so far anyway. Sorry to counter you Katie, but the Marmite rice cakes were were a huge disappointment. They were rice cakes which had possibly been waved over a pot of Marmite and I'm not even sure that that pot was open. However the Marmite breadsticks were a fine snack. I got snacky all over them, let me tell you.

Dance Away, Roxy Music. It was our tune, when there once was an us.

???? Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > 5600 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon Ahem.

Ladymuck Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Nope...you are all big fat fibbers - Suffering cats LM, you've been and gone and got access to my photo album and have availed yourself to the snaps therein. I beg of you to be discreet about the one with me and Judy Finnegan. It could kill Richard. wishful thinkers. - Lawks a mussy LadyM, you've been leafing through my diary as well. At least I think you have, or do I just wish you did? Anyhoooo...

What is with those police chases on Friern Road? I mean like, what gives, man.

And my next trick will be a combination of a water filled Quality Street tin, a tuna and an AK47.

A bit too 'bridey' for my liking. And that's got nothing to do with my aunt who lives in Essex. So less it, right.

I think the young one is in with a chance of winning. On the other hand the gay one will be someone to contend with. Unless the quirky one gets that Barry Manilow song just so. Mind, the novelty couple look like strong contenders. So who can say? Let's all give praise and thanks that Piers and Amanda are on hand to give their talent-weighted opinions. Some scoffers may say that they are in thrall to SCowll, just because he's the boss of them. Pah, I say. Amanda and Piers would never sh!t out to SiCowl. Piers is a journalist of the greatest possible, and you only have to read Amanda's column in the popular News Of The World giveaway magazine Fabulous to see what she's made of. Well done in advance to those two.

Can I Be Your Boy? - Dickie Pride

#Daizie, Daizie the coppers are after you, If they catch you, you'll do a month or two, They'll tie you all up with wire, behind the Black Maria, And you'll look sweet upon the seat of a police bicycle made for two# Now if that don't make her come back, then, bless my soul I don't know what will.

Brendan Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > So long as you remember to pass the koutchie on > the left hand side. "We a go dub". People, people, people, it's not mannersable to leave Brendan hanging there when he makes a reference that requires a follow up. Anyway, consider the matter taken care of. All is irie.

She Belongs To Me - Bob Dylan. Despite the title the ultimate 'putting on a pedestal and falling back in helpless adoration' song. The object of his desire is perfection.

Baby polar bear - "Dad, am I a polar bear"? Dad - "Of course you are son, you're a very handsome polar bear". Baby wanders off. Baby polar bear - "Mum, am I definitely a polar bear"? Mum - "Of course you are, and a lovelier polar bear never set foot in the snow. Mwaaah". Baby trudges off pensively. Baby polar bear - "Grandma, is it right I'm a polar bear"? Grandma - "Of course you're a polar bear, look at you! You could be something else"? Baby wanders away deep in thought. Baby polar bear - "Grandad, tell me the truth, what am I"? Grandad - "You, my boy are a polar bear, born and bred. What makes you ask"? Baby polar bear - "I was just trying to figure out why I'm so f*+king cold" Thank you, I'm here all week, look after your waitress, I get a share of the tips.

Mental ill-health and possible domestic abuse aside, let's not disregard the possibility that she was just larking about. Having the crack, if you will. More power to her elbow for reviving the 70's streaking fad. Ray Stevens would be proud, unless he's still alive, in which case he will be. For no particular reason I feel inordinately pleased with myself for employing the word 'fad'.

afoster Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Hi Everyone, > > My name is amanda That's my younger sister's name. She could not be called Mandy, my mother forbade it. And she was correct. And we weren't even slightly posh, but we knew what was what. Anyhow, welcome to the EDF Amanda.

???? Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > ...I just knew you'd all be far tooooooooo cool > and pc. > > *Dons england shirt, hangs St Georges flag out of > window, belts out Jerusalem, throws plastic chair* St George, Quids? You are avin' a Turkish. But thanks for the chair.

Our House - Madness

Andystar Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Is this thread about SEX? ::o Of course, sex of compost, sex of bedding material, even big sex of seed that you will spread around your neighbours. And if anyone needs assistance in emptying their sex around the place, then feel free to contact me, Stanislau, via HonaloocieB. Laters.

I won't name a name or point a yeast darkened finger at the individual, but there's been mention made of Vegemite on a Marmite thread. V******e is the limp, sorry dopey cousin at the wedding, leaning against the bar and drinking very small cans of weak lager compared to the Marmite relative, who is out there on the dance floor doing the Hucklebuck with two bridesmaids at a time. To use some of my Caledonian chums vernacular, it's pish. To quote Bertie Wooster it's pish and tosh. And there's an end to it.