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About Wolfie

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    Unequivocal Cunt

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  1. Wolfie

    Useless scientists

    You don't live far away Stubbs, hence you could deliver by hand. When you get to Much Fibbing-In-The-Marsh, just follow the pathway of broken beer bottles and syringes crunching underfoot, looking out for the first terrace house with faux Roman colosseum pillars and year-round Christmas lights hanging from the gutters. If there's a rusting Burberry pram crammed with empty pizza boxes sitting in the corner of an unkempt garden, and it's called 'Auschwitz Towers' with a stolen Audi badge nailed next to it, you might have found it.
  2. Wolfie

    Pseudo homeless beggars

    I love the new avatar, Alf. I assume Gyps' lover sees something very similar each time she goes onto all-fours, though parting her bum cheeks must sound like two Velcro straps being violently pulled apart.
  3. Wolfie

    Mums Net

    Admitting this must have been especially difficult, Frank, as few would have suspected it with the loafers you wear. If he's a shop assistant from Slowear who has pipe cleaners for legs, I'd imagine you could not only talk fashion but also share outfits.
  4. Wolfie

    social decline

    My apologies. It's difficult conversing with people I've never actually met, and I can only draw conclusions from what I've seen. I'm sure you understand.
  5. Wolfie

    social decline

    To some it's not; to others it doesn't matter. I'd happily invest in a new pair of Belgian loafers, though in all honesty I'm quite keen to avoid looking like a complete fucking faggot.
  6. Wolfie

    social decline

    It depends on how much money one has – and how they choose to spend it, of course. I stand corrected. For these reasons I'd downgrade from a Hermitage La Chapelle to buy a new mattress and have a bottle of Mateus Rosé removed from my rectum via private procedure.
  7. Wolfie

    social decline

    I've just had a browse of the Slowear website. There's not a great deal that appeals to me, other than some of the trainers. Admittedly I'm shocked to see they retail for £350-400. For this sort of money, I could wine and dine a local hooker and end up at mine for a night of utter filth after polishing off an elegant yet robust 2010 Paul Jaboulet-Aîné Hermitage La Chapelle and gram of 90% pure cocaine. Don't you think you're missing out on life's other pleasures while spending this kind of cash on clothing?
  8. Wolfie

    social decline

    You don't look a day older than 50, Frank. Typically, when men reach a half-century (or near to it), they tend to relive their youth – or at least try in vain to hold onto it. Why, therefore, do you share a similar taste in clothing to Bergerac's Charlie Hungerford? This is merely an observation from a general scruffbag who lives in old work boots and wouldn't spunk money on expensive clothes if his life depended on it.
  9. Wolfie

    social decline

    A most fitting self-appraisal.
  10. Deep down, we both know you find me utterly irresistible xx.
  11. While on the subject of all things Brazilian, I'd imagine its national football shirt fits you differently based on whether you've had your back waxed.
  12. Wolfie

    social decline

    Police won't have too much trouble finding them. They'll be praying in the local mosque for Allah to grant them immunity.
  13. Wolfie

    Tranny Madness

    Was he chasing a signed copy of your book, Colin?
  14. Wolfie

    Useless scientists

    The Alpes? Are they near the Hillamayas? Presumably your written English is a little more well-polished when completing Chartered Surveyor building reports on behalf homebuyers and solicitors.
  15. Wolfie

    Mark Carney House Price slump fear monger

    Admittedly I admire Soft Hands's resilience. Each time he's thrown some bait, he responds with a 500-word+ explanation as to why he's right and everyone else is wrong. His rationale seems to encompass 'I couldn't give a fuck what you think', and yet, the verbose and repetitious ripostes very much suggest otherwise. Baws's expertise in exposing his fraudulently hasn't been required: he's done it himself. Let's briefly have a look at the facts: a late-middle aged and self-made millionaire with teenager's hands who still lives in a council house (albeit Costwold stone) – despite being an uppermost property developer and qualified Chartered Surveyor for the past 30 years; a bay-boy-dun-good geezah who used to drive a top-range Audi RS5 that was specifically targeted by a professional gang of Asians which a special branch of police assigned to such a task couldn't remedy; a man who chooses to bring his family to this site by boastfully claiming his teenage son has £50k sitting dormant in the bank; and, finally, someone who thinks a general downturn in the economy via further reduced interest rates and an unprecedented housing slump will benefit him greatly, even though a person of his alleged trade relies heavily on inflation. You couldn't make the cunt up. I've come to think of MC as the ultimate sewer-defying floater even Dyno-Rod's skilled engineers couldn't dispose of. Let's hope Rick comes to rescue sooner than later.