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sitting here on my bruised jacksie with hee-haw to do as off work due to cycling injury picked up on friday and want entertained. at least the palpable capacity i haven't excreted from my being for inquisition and intrigue has not waned and run completely dry.... yet.


never posted here before but thought the lounge appropriate for rambling about unrelated nonsensical, unstructured guff. whats it all about? so far my day has amounted to three-quarters of a cinema pack of minstrels, two bowls of home made pea soup and a few naps involving uncontrollable twitching. not saying im unhappy with that, but at 31 and three-hundred and sixty, three-hundred and sixty-fifths, is this it?


is there still a world of possibility that beckons the unbeckonable? possibly? probably? or is it more realistic to pontificate: whats the point?


im sure a wee gin, purely medicinal, wont fail to satisy these levels of mediocraty.


maudlin anyone?

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So you obviously work for a company then! How much of a bruised arse do you need to stay of work?


Listen, tossing yourself of between soup & minstrels is no way to waste your time .......but adding mindless hours on this forum to your feckless life.....well now you're talking!



Welcome Burney.



W**F

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You don't know what TMS is? My dear Ann, it is the epitome of British Summers.


It is simply, the commentary of cricket (currently the Ashes) on Radio 4 Longwave - or Test Match Special.


But it is far more complex than that. It has such lyrical luminaries as Aggers, Blowers and, err, Boycott. But let's gloss over the latter.


Talk is often not even of a cricket nature - and this is regularly the best bit as they ruminate on subjects as diverse as pigeons or cake - but it's vividly descriptive tales of bygone matches and cricketing personalities make it unmissable should one be at leisure during any England cricketing exploits. Tune in tomorrow as we decimate the Orignial POM's batting line up.


Larks.

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im all for the endless mumbling chat (peter alliss is a personal idol), but i cant think of anything more treacherously dull than all that droning, culminating in some cricket pun. pish.


off to prepare for tomorrow's struggle: curly wurly, tin of tennents blue and this months heat magazine. what is the appropriate cleaning cycle to wash ones pants under, ensuring a thorough yet economical procedure?

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david_carnell Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> You don't know what TMS is? My dear Ann, it is the

> epitome of British Summers.

>

> It is simply, the commentary of cricket (currently

> the Ashes) on Radio 4 Longwave - or Test Match

> Special.

>

> But it is far more complex than that. It has such

> lyrical luminaries as Aggers, Blowers and, err,

> Boycott. But let's gloss over the latter.

>

> Talk is often not even of a cricket nature - and

> this is regularly the best bit as they ruminate on

> subjects as diverse as pigeons or cake - but it's

> vividly descriptive tales of bygone matches and

> cricketing personalities make it unmissable should

> one be at leisure during any England cricketing

> exploits. Tune in tomorrow as we decimate the

> Orignial POM's batting line up.

>

> Larks.



David, I don't mean to come across as rude or even worse, working class...but when you wrote that post were you sitting on the edge of the village green drinking a warm pint of Hook Nortons whilst wearing a straw boater or have you just dressed up as Bertie Wooster...again.


Sorry, I just had to ask.


I'll get back in my box now.

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BBW - you, rude? Surely not?


Whilst a pint of chesnut coloured ale with a frothy head, supped whilst over looking a village green cricket match moistens my eyes I'm afraid that message was written whilst still in my pyjamas from a terraced house in Peckham. Somewhat less romantic.


As for the straw boater and Bertie Wooster fantasies you should pop along to Bedford Square Gardens on Saturday where you might bump into me competing in the Chap Olympics.


Pip pip.

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david_carnell Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> BBW - you, rude? Surely not?

>

> Whilst a pint of chesnut coloured ale with a

> frothy head, supped whilst over looking a village

> green cricket match moistens my eyes I'm afraid

> that message was written whilst still in my

> pyjamas from a terraced house in Peckham. Somewhat

> less romantic.


Apologies M'lud.


Tell Lady Carnell that the boy will be round to refill the coal bunker at tomorrows first light. His sister Hattie will come in the afternoon to polish the brass and silver ware.


Your oratory in church last Sunday brought back golden yet saddening memory's of when you'd address the men on Flanders field before we'd wet our bayonets.

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