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Post by warhead on Sept 1, 2011 8:31:11 GMT
Can I light up your night with a ***********, or a Roman numeral called, legs eleven, with glass fibre optics for a wig?
Can I play with toy trains as big as a real one, and get my collection of military two pence’s squashed on the track?
Can I drape seasoned clotted cream over my wife’s ***********, so she smells alive?
Can I initiate a back drop with skeletal muscle and call it, drum skin a plenty back at my house?
Can I drive a car backwards, and steer with my rear, because I can’t find a brown leather steering wheel cover like my granddad, because he was one?
If yes to all these, I’m in.
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Post by Edna Sweetlove on Sept 1, 2011 18:31:38 GMT
What a lovely piece of writing! I feel sure you will be a welcome to our site!
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Post by warhead on Sept 1, 2011 21:47:44 GMT
I like it hear, I fitt, like a vampire in a vat of hallowed water, with a twist of bitter Cof E.
Drunk at mo. Where's that cardboard bloke? He's funny, funny until I read his crap story. He's funny enough to step aside, though he does need to scrub it, or forsake credability.
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Post by Edna Sweetlove on Oct 11, 2017 17:02:55 GMT
Cardboard is good. I think he's dead though.
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