REMEMBER OUR MOTTO (please): "Think No More Of Frying Bottoms" - Sir William Chairman |
So...
- Sir William
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- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
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- Sir William
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- Prizemaster
- the 'Things he was appointed to distribute Master'
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- Sir William
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Re: So...
That's because all the red British Racing Green ones were painted green.
Sir William Chairman
- Sir William
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Re: So...
But that''s not a red one.
That's a green one that has been painted red.
That's a green one that has been painted red.
Sir William Chairman
- Sir William
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- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
- Posts: 13283
- Joined: Sun Jul 16, 2017 1:39 pm
- Has told off: 690 times
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- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
- Posts: 13283
- Joined: Sun Jul 16, 2017 1:39 pm
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- Sir William
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- Runaway
- Publicity Executive & Recruitment Ambassador
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Re: So...
It's just a few thoughts on a Sunday morning stroll in the park. It goes like this:
Fumple dimple dumpel. The antique leg-work fascinating as a Stirge's beak, and I, in the lonely island of my obsequious incompetence looked in vain for the cloth of shielding morality.
Fwap! as the awsome excressence left my unforgiving portal, I vowed that was the last curried egg I would ever consume. Observing this event, Knodger, my over zealous but transient mirage guardian wailed an untuneful dirge. Lustrous damsels of the magic orbis floated in the vortex of my disillusionment, and the tinkling, yet faint sound of their laughter at my misfortune tumbled down upon me as would a wistful fine sparkling shower of urine. Methinks that I should drink the silver chalice of cuckoo-spit, that my errant deeds shall then be undone.
Bags rags! Flimsy turnip dawns on the marble mantelshelf. Self-adhesing, never pleasing, Earl of Neasden sticking to vacuosity as if a leech. Fortituous rabbit, glaring down upon my tawdry nothingness as though observing a miniscule virolactic ectoplasm.
Echen Bedechen! - the message brought by the vorpal Trode was, as before, cold comfort in my Stapletonian bed-portion. For as the Snivet's certitude of termination is inevitable , so is the extinguishment of all this flocculent, vapid dimension in which we so grovellingly presume to exist.
Fumple dimple dumpel. The antique leg-work fascinating as a Stirge's beak, and I, in the lonely island of my obsequious incompetence looked in vain for the cloth of shielding morality.
Fwap! as the awsome excressence left my unforgiving portal, I vowed that was the last curried egg I would ever consume. Observing this event, Knodger, my over zealous but transient mirage guardian wailed an untuneful dirge. Lustrous damsels of the magic orbis floated in the vortex of my disillusionment, and the tinkling, yet faint sound of their laughter at my misfortune tumbled down upon me as would a wistful fine sparkling shower of urine. Methinks that I should drink the silver chalice of cuckoo-spit, that my errant deeds shall then be undone.
Bags rags! Flimsy turnip dawns on the marble mantelshelf. Self-adhesing, never pleasing, Earl of Neasden sticking to vacuosity as if a leech. Fortituous rabbit, glaring down upon my tawdry nothingness as though observing a miniscule virolactic ectoplasm.
Echen Bedechen! - the message brought by the vorpal Trode was, as before, cold comfort in my Stapletonian bed-portion. For as the Snivet's certitude of termination is inevitable , so is the extinguishment of all this flocculent, vapid dimension in which we so grovellingly presume to exist.
- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
- Posts: 13283
- Joined: Sun Jul 16, 2017 1:39 pm
- Has told off: 690 times
- Been told off: 430 times
- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
- Posts: 13283
- Joined: Sun Jul 16, 2017 1:39 pm
- Has told off: 690 times
- Been told off: 430 times
- Sir William
- Dearly Beloved Chairman
- Posts: 13283
- Joined: Sun Jul 16, 2017 1:39 pm
- Has told off: 690 times
- Been told off: 430 times
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