
Ted Max
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Everything posted by Ted Max
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Oh aye - Gracie's usually looking for a hit. I've skittled him once up on Peckham Rye and he's just put the bails back on and said "Play on". My mate Dave wanted to shit in his kitbag for that, but I've told Dave that he's bang out of order.
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This reminds me- Goochie used to have a net in the alley behind Mirash. The under chef there was a useful leggie, and reckoned Goochie couldn't pick his top spinner. After the net, Gatt would come down and he and Goochie woulod go through the menu, before meeting Embers at the Foresters for a gallon.
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I saw the Tamil wizard practising his doosras off the gable end of Goodrich Road, as it meets Sylvester Road. My mate Dave shouted no ball as we went by on our micro-scooters, but I've told Dave that he's bang out of order. What Test cricketers have you seen on the Streets of ED, recently?
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Schonrock kids and unchaperoned "school run"
Ted Max replied to Alex K's topic in General ED Issues / Gossip
They were dropping kids off out of passing aeroplanes on Saturday. One way to beat the traffic. I used to paraglide to school every day when I was three. Hell of a walk home, though. -
You should have. Then you wouldn't have had such an offensively obese baby. I bet there are people on here who are sneaking away to high end Guava parlours, aren't there? In working hours.
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You are all quite mental. I bet some of you even have mango breath and toxins around your kids and elderly relatives. Disgusting.
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Focus group this RosieH, it's the truth. Mangoes over-promise and under-deliver on taste. The texture's not an issue. And don't nobody tell me I haven't tasted the real thing because I am personally typing this right now from the Tropics where men in straw hats are bringing me the best mangoes in the world for my approval. PGC, you are bang out of order on the 'gine and the bean.
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Judges don't normally grant injunctions to suit internal HR processes of unrelated third parties.
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Alex Curran hasn't got a sister.
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Vandalism of new playground at goose green
Ted Max replied to chuck's topic in General ED Issues / Gossip
Vandalism is of course not to be encouraged. Nor is calling children the "dregs of society" very edifying. I think that's about all there is to this thread. -
Love Songs on Avondale Rise You're a dick, this has got nothing to do with you (The 7:51 to Beckenham Junction nosed its way through the tunnel below) This is my bus, I'm going Sainsburys. Leave me alone. (An asthmatic P13 slalomed up the hill) You know what your problem is. You're a loser. (The child outside the newsagent began to cry)
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That's a woman sitting there, *Bob*, not just a set of nipples. Although what she does with your Gaggia does sound interesting.
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The Loyalist paramilitaries known as the "Milligan Orange" were equally infamous on the upper reaches of the Boyne during the '16.
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Sir, I could not help but be drawn to the picaresque treatment of the former Free-Lancers within your pages, and thought that the following letter, that I found encasing my grandfather's old portable cruet set might be of interest. I quote only the relevant passages. "Dearest Binky, Do you remember those dashed Free-Lancers, whose rum attire saw them drummed out of the Army? Well blow me but some of them have popped up over here taking part in a remarkable seige of the Upper Nile Garrison town of Sorse. With the entrapped forces including the Mahdi's army, the Muslim Brotherhood and some defected Egyptian Imperial forces, as well as a rag tag of mercenaries and partisans, Official Communications has taken to saving time by referring to all the besieged the In-Sorsers. Therefore those former Free-Lancers encircling the town are now known to all as the Out-Sorsers. Well, you takes your laughs where you can get 'em, Dear." I hope you agree that this snippet may amuse your older readers.
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Dear Sir, Re: your correspondent Michael Palaeologus' regimental footnote, your readers may be interested to hear that many of the disbanded Free-Lancers found employment by forming the private guard of the Wali of Swat. Aas, shortage of weaponry due to a blockade of the Swat Valley by the forces of the Raj, meant that the mercenary unit was compelled to become expert in unarmed combat; 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. Yours etc, Gunfor Hyre
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heat radiates in the infrared + in any frequency of EMR. Anyway, let us wend our way back to Loochie's iced plums... which should be unfurling nicely by now, unless other actions have been taken.
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That summer she would strip the drenched nightshirt from your drowsy body, and sprinkle rose-scented water on your lips. She'd support your drooping head whilst she turned the pillow to the cool side. She'd sit beside you until you slept once more, black streaks of pain harrowing her sallow cheeks. She had died of that fever, and you had not. Your father had never mentioned her name again and had remarried by Christmas, whilst you were back at school; just another motherless child amongst hundreds of others. Why should you dream of her now, out here on the club's veranda? Damn this heat.
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Dear chap, it was seeking refreshment in the members' bathrooms that led to the Hyde-Williams incident in the first place. My driver confided that his family held an al fresco familial repast yesterday, timed to coincide with an Association Football match being played in the Free State. At this event it seems the women all wore bathing suits, despite the lack of any form of opportunity for aquatic excerise. I asked my driver if his good lady joined in such behaviour and he said she did not, on account of she's just had a new tatoo inscribed upon her abdomen. I think perhaps I will have that afternoon off after all. Perhaps you would be so kind as to donate my remuneration for same donated to the Distressed Young Ladies' fund that bears my name. Smithkins will have the details.
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That was Hendo. Old Hendo is his father and, like yours truly, was too old for the Great Show. As well as short trousers, I am also informed there is a current trend for gentlemen to expose their feet about town, save for a thin strip of vulcanised rubber which they grip, pincer like, between their naked toes. It seems we are regressing to the loin cloth and the dish-dash, even within the better postal codes.
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I am changing collars thrice daily, and anticipate greatly the plain luxury of a fresh shirt before dinner. I had cause to reprimand one unfortunate at the bank as he had slipped his jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair - like a tar-handed navvy in a public bar. Henderson informed me that some of the chaps are even wearing short trousers as they are about their business at the weekend. I replied that I was greatly impressed, as I would be quite unable these days to fit into my old Prep school uniform. This seemed to amuse old Hendo greatly.
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What's happened to the Blue Mountain terrace?
Ted Max replied to pmcmullan's topic in General ED Issues / Gossip
You had sat, forgotten, in the upstairs Chinese room. A 60 minute wait for your scrambled eggs. Your girlfriend had wanted to go to the greasy spoon but you had said, "What's the point of moving here if we're going to eat in the same places as we could back home?" You had noticed her wince as you attempted to discuss the origins of the coffee beans they are grinding. She had ordered "just ordinary" tea. A text arrives. "Have you told your mum yet? If you don't, I will. She deserves to know." You're going to change your number, you decide. The espresso machine, brought home in tumescent excitement on a sunny morning, spits out its disgust. -
"Please may I have some peas: how I came to love the Germans" is a sweetly restrained memoir of a cross-cultural relationship that will have you nodding in sympathy, guffawing in acknowledgement, and weeping in spite of yourself. A sure fire stocking filler. ?6.99.
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Hi Brendan, Moos and PGC. This thread has provoked enough memories (some of them true) to pass a pleasant lunch break back on the Forum.
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On Friday nights Hayley Chester's dad would pick her up from the city centre's under 18's disco, and as many of us as possible would fit into his Volvo estate and cadge a ride back to our sleepy neighbourhood. This was in the early days of Channel4's American Football coverage, and Mr Chester was much taken with the antics of The Fridge, a man whose bulk and related physical embellishments he would refer to without abashment. We quickly learnt that this lack of social inhibition also applied to his attitude to Sally's love life. Every week, the 14 year old Hayley would be asked in stentorian tones by her dad if she had got lucky yet, and if not why not? Blunt enquiries were made of the male liftees if we were in fact made of sufficiently heterosexual fibre to satisfy Mr Chester's daughter. The resulting silence would last until the journey ended. As a result (and if Mr Chester had been of a more sophisticated manner then I'd agree with you that this was surely his intention) Hayley never did get lucky, at least not with any of us fellow Volvo-sharers, given the sure and public embarrassment that we knew would follow. These days, Mr Anderson can often be seen walking his obese black labrador, Douglas, down to his local. It is not known if his flirtation with American Football proved more enduring that his relationship with his only daughter, who moved to Australia, leaving no forwarding address.
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"Saxophonists are easy - and other tales" There's the biog title sorted, Keef.
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