HonaloochieB

I'm not getting this, I take it as heated up fermented grape juice that's been thought about for a considerable period of time. Now 'peroiod of time'...

ruffers Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Loo roll does not a meal make. Is Lou Rawls preparing a meal for Tina? Bloody Nora. Lucky mare.

Man Out Of Time - Elvis Costello.

Better

Stop it TinaGwee. Though every time I see your name, I see it as TingaWee. It's probably some sort of eye dyslexia. Or something. You've neglected to mention the rake of Nectar points you collected on your visit. Oh, no don't hear about that. Kvetch about your 26 pound notes, of course. By the way, Somerfield are doing 4 x 66cl bottles of Stella for a fiver at the moment. Doubt if even a Waitrose would supply that sort of bargain.

"Whatever happened to crumbly white dog shit?" - Every stand-up 'comic' in the mid eighties.

Good on you. Not just your good deed for the day, I'd say this one carries you through to Tuesday.

I woke up today feeling completely fulfilled and at ease with myself and my lot in life. I then really woke up and realised that I had only dreamt of waking up before, and my life was just as mundane and irksome as the last time I wore it. Quite a relief, actually.

SimonM Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > I think Pete & Dud this kind of thing much more > funnily all those years ago with their "Bloody > Greta Garbo!" sketch! >:D< I don't know Simon, I just bumped into Barry Cryer in Somerfield and he reckons you're talking bollocks.

Horse. No, not piper EdOldie, you'll not get me again.

mockney piers Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Except Paris Hilton, I don't believe for a second > she actually exists, I think she's either entirely > photoshopped or an animatronic puppet. Oh, let me assure you MP, she exists alright. As I know to my cost. There I was on the slightly wonky pin table, in that pub over by Albert Bridge, and who should come up and goose me? You're probably well ahead of me, it was Paz. We of course fell into conversation, and naturally I plied her with sticks of mild and large bumpers of creme de menthe. As the evening wore on, she assured me she would effect an introduction to Lionel Ritchie, through her pal Nicole. I made no secret of the fact that my intention was to c@nt him off for that ludicrous video he made with the blind woman and his lumpy clay face. I thought we had an agreement. Any way, a couple of days later in that pub, you know the one, this side of the river near Chelsea Bridge. You know, with the pleasant Australian barmaid with the acne and the graffito 'SO WAS THE TITANIC' on the condom machine. The Duke? The Prince? The Butchers Arms? Something along those lines. Any way, there she is with the dart's team, taking on all comers for two's-up and double tops. I take her aside and asked for Ritchie's contact details only to be informed that she and Nicole had had a falling out the night before. Apparently Nicole had seen some video footage of PH, which lead her to intemperate use of the word 'slag', causing no little offence to the heiress. Hilton claimed that Carlberg Special Brew played a large part in a her former friend's diatribe. The up shot of it all was that I am down several quid in drinks for sillybollocks Hilton and Lionel Ritchie remains blithely unaware of my opinion of that shite video. And some would have you believe there's a God. Jesus.

I hope you don't take offence. And you also keep your greasy mitts off my garden gate.

Goblins, OK I think I understand now. So what's a pixie?

Jimbob Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > watching the ladies skeleton racing on eurosport > this morning, one of the american racers, > obviously a bit of a tree-hugger, had a message > emblazoned on her board, "save a tree, eat a > beaver". when she consequently took the lead, > someone congratulated her to which she promptly > replied "must be all that beaver i ate". "i won,t > even go there" quipped the commentator. Which just goes to show that cunniligus is not to everyone's taste. Odd for an American though, they seem to enjoy anchovies on most things.

Humbled

I'M TERRY JONES.

Or indeed a Turkish.

50 Ways To Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon.

Ball of course, you aerosol.

tasty_snacks Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > cheers guys. i did go to le chardon a few years > ago when i was working on the lane- upon telling > the waitress how i'd like my duck, 'chef won't > like that,' was her reposte. Presumptuous of you even to have offered an amateur opinion on the matter. Of yourself and the chef, who has been to catering school? Who has burn scars on his hands? Who is the one most likely to be surrounded by edged weapons (I of course am not acquainted with your good self, so am assuming you're not). And most importantly, who is in a position to flob in the mayo? I'd adopt a more humble approach to chefs, they're not all as pleasant as Gordon Ramsey, I hear.

Terry Jones used to drink in the Clockhouse. Different Python. Actually perhaps he still does. Come on Jonesy, speak up.

Jubbly

Naomi Campbell blanked me in The Castle the other night. She was all over me like cheap suit the week before when I was lavishing brandy and Babycham on her in the pool hall in Brixton. I won't bother with her in future. Moody old wagon.

Black And White World - Elvis Costello

Shot By His Own Gun - Elvis Costello