Remember thine message board hosts that thine erudite deliberations may not be deleted in a fit of pique
Discretion shall preserve thee, understanding shall keep thee: but for pity’s sake also wash thine hands in the Brook of Eshcol and lick not of the latches of thine neighbour’s door. For he is an mucky bugger and unpleasing to the watchers of the Lord, who tracketh as they traceth, through ways no man can fathom.
What profiteth it a Sparrer if he gain an half-brick and an lead pipe and every kind of kit even unto an little slitty knife, if he loseth his own Shopping List?
When incarcerated in the plague pit it payeth greatly in the way your personal care is enhanced if you are polite and grateful with a smile and a flirtatious comment to handsome young male gnursies
Even the blackest cloud has an edge -
but since the buggers can float about, you’ll get wet anyway
A Bird in the hand probably has high explosives concealed in the shrubbery.
Was the use of the word’shrubbery’ a happy accident, or did you consider saying ‘explosives concealed in the bush’ and then reject it as bad taste?
When, in your brief but fairly unconstrained acquaintance with me, have you noticed me deferring to notions of good taste, eh?
However, knowin’ the Bird I had in mind, a full shrubbery would be needed. Never knowingly 'under-catered ', one might say.
PS: a not-proven tseep is traditional at this juncture, Dunnock. Also, that Fatsia will never be the same again. Or different again. It would appear to have been vaporized.
Must’ve caught fire in all the hot wevver we’ve bin havin’ lately.
(contemplates soggy fevvers)
Look over there, it’s Elvis!
Not all shiny squirrels are called Elvis, you know. Speciesist and reflectionist. Tsk.
love thy fellow posters that there be no modding needed of your posts
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Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like bad taste.
When baking mince pies it is best to put the larger discs of pastry on the bottom!
Ach I caught it after the first pie so only one mucked up out of 17
Apparently they are lovely and my butcher was delighted to be given a present all for his own self
He was like a wee boy…
It is better to light a single magnesium flare than to curse the darkness.
I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in the Cellar over one bottle of wine that reappeareth, more than over ninety and nine bottles, which need no discovery.
I say unto you, that no joy shall be in the Cellar over one bottle of wine that reappeareth into the toilet bowl. Verily.
But what profit it a Bee if an Cellarite holdeth on until he or she busteth?
(For all wine endeth up in the toilet bowl, giveth or taketh the odd emergency)