Random Factor... Like A Tractor

First topic message reminder :

Random factor, like a tractor...
by luckless_pedestrian on Sat 28 May 2011, 5:06 pm

Hello. Following its roaring success on the old 606 (winner of six Luckies*) I thought I'd provide a space on 606v2 for you to post any irrelevant little things you fancy sharing.

I'll start: I've always had trouble with the line 'Love grows where my Rosemary goes.' If they'd chosen another name like Anne or Susan there'd be no problem, but rosemary's a herb so it could be 'Love goes where my rosemary grows.'

I think there's one in Jersey Marine somewhere. Can't find it for lovenamoney.......

You'll be getting like them bloody beatniks before you know it. Ban the bomb and do feck all for a living poncing about all day.

The Bells, The Bells, the Bells!

No its Grouse actually.

'Duck or Grouse'

I demand to have some Guinea fowl!

I suspect fowl play.

Fowl play can become a cockfight before you know it. They have such short tempers.

NO THEY DON'T FFS AAARRGGHHH

You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drunk, it's against the law.

Drunk horses are mandatory in the Gower...

Well that's the Gower for you. They're all f___in' mentalists over there.

I can stand the sight of worms and look at microscopic germs but technicolour pachyderms are really too much for me...

Waiter, there's an hairy elephant in my soup

Well you did order a mammoth portion sir!

Glas a du wrote:Waiter, there's an hairy elephant in my soup

Well you did order a mammoth portion sir!

*drumroll*

Why a drumroll? Is the punchline on its way?

Perhaps he meant "Ba-doom tish!"

Cari wrote:Perhaps he meant "Ba-doom tish!"

Yeh thats the one...

I write Christmas cracker jokes in my spare time.

What did the vampire Doctor say to his patients?

Necks please!

Elephants never forgive.

Man walks into a bakery

"I'll have a crocodile sandwich please, and make it snappy!"

Never smile at a crocodile. They see it as a come-on.

"there may be trouble ahead,
But while there's orgies and liquor and sex and hard drugs,
Let's face the music and dance..."

We will spend a dizzy weekend smacked into a trance...

I'm going to Flip smack this computer into a trance now if it doesn't wake up!

Don't bother trying to interrogate a mussel. The cockle clam up.

With sea food water torture is the only way. Boil em.

And then they give up their delicious secrets.

Lobsters play tennis but very predictably.

Backhand badgers.

Crabs are no good at rugby. They give the team no go-forward whatsoever.

What if you turn them side on?

You obviously have a different cooking method, Glas.

They tend to be shirkers anyway. If you did turn them side on they would run in the wrong direction I fear.

I'd play a skunk on both wings. They've got serious gas.

Stallions in the centre for their tackles.

A skate, a skate at number eight.

Why, because it rhymes? (ish)

Yes, because it rhymes. Also, it's the last thing the opposition would expect.

You're no wrong their Laddy.

Mrs Tabinacle asked the Good Doctor if he had any more of the turnip medicine. He did have some back at the practice, and he'd promisd to bring some on his next visit.

Mrs Tabinacle sighed and saw the good Doctor off and gentley closed the large oak door behind him. She turned and slowly made her way back to her favourite chair in the bay window.

After an hour or so of watching the world go by, she closed her eyes for the last time.

Thats soo sad. She should have gone to Munster. Mecca for turnip-juice.

I just love Private Dicks. Far more discrete than Public Dicks.

You can often tell plenty about a person by the car they drive, if it's in a ditch it belongs to a bird.

J.Haskell.

If it's in a ditch and on fire - it belongs to a hot bird.

D. Hartley.

Honestly? You're not winding me up are you fellas? Is that true?


C. Ashton.

Oi! You three! Sort youselves out ya dim feckwits, if you was twice as smart as ya think ya are, ya still wouldn't have enough neurones to create a synapse.

England.

Oh man. Loving the inner-dialogue

Brilliant.
And I don't laugh easily. I'm a miserable chunt by nature.

Me too, I'm not good with people as a rule, the world is full of a£5eholes, but also people like you.


Feck 'em, let's keep each other sane.

Right back atcha, ya English

of thought and mind.

What does that cost?

A man's Life.

Aye, but never his soul.

For all me filth I'm going to the grave as clean as a

Because I don't regret a thing, it's all made me who I am and as long as I can live with that, I can live with anything. Have one on me brother from another mother.

I regret a few things... Like not having done even more of it. But feic it. Im going to go down blazing. And phhok de begrudgers. Specially yerman, whose 16 old GF it is. Shot in the back by a jealous and much younger lover.
Thats my final wish. And Sheperds Pie.

Ah, if there's one thing I've learnt in life it's that the young 'uns don't like the horns ya give 'em.

But if you check out with a Shepherds pie, ain't that like getting done more for a lamb than a sheep - man up mo chara! Go out on a gnarly auld shank o' feckin mutton, with colcannon and a pint an a half of gravy.