scotty

I'm probably alone in this, but I always enjoyed Corbett's armchair monologues more than anything else in the two ronnies. Didn't really like anything else he did after that show though, Sorry being particularly cringeworthy.

Turn bisexual keith, you'll double your chances.

The way I see it PK, is that if the Tories do get back in, (which unless labour somehow conjure up an alternative to milibean seems very likely,) UKIP are probably the most likely coalition partners. Farage will never play ball without a referendum cast in granite. That said, a straightforward in-out vote is never going to produce anything but "in", mainly because of the fear factor. If there was a real choice offered, such as different areas we can already opt out of or a change in legislation over ever joining the eurozone without it taking at least 5 years to get it through, it could happen, or at least be helpful to the anti-eu contingent.

The problem there ratty, is anything antisemitic in the screenplay means we won't get the big bucks from Hollywood. Keep your eye on the ball, I reckon this is a 24 carat money spinner. Keith could become the next name to go viral, you read it here first.

You're onto something here spotter, I reckon there's a film in this. I'll draft out a synopsis.

Never before have the words "Pizza Hut" and "good" been used in the same sentence.

Don't waste any brainpower on it daps, she's only indulging in wishful thinking.

Has he wriggled out of chokey then?

Fucking hell nocti, how embarrassing is that when the cunting till just keeps barking it out as you put your days shopping through. Utter cunts, I just go to Makro instead nowadays, at least they aren't so fucking judgemental.

Its not what the aliens did to his brain he wants to worry about gobbler, its what they stuck up his arse. Still, at least that's prepared him for his 18 month stretch.

I take it back. For some reason the dear pen thread was showing 0 replies, fuck knows why.

I doubt it jazz, she's also a raging god-botherer. Life is not fair.

Nothing matters very much Cat, and most things don't matter at all.

One of my neighbours is a dutch bird. Absolutely cracking pair of bangers on her, plus she's a GP so could resuscitate me after shagging me into cardiac arrest. Sorry, what was the topic again?

You might be thinking of Vanessa Feltz.

No worries CB. A couple more pints and I'll jap it off.

That side-look of his towards the camera is as monumentally annoying as the crowbarred 'impressions' he shoehorns into every fucking programme he appears on. Got to add, I was well chuffed when Brydon (cunt) and Fry (cunt) got pipped to the post of new chairman for Sorry I haven't a clue by Jack Dee (not a cunt.)

Miaow.

Persuaded you how, dc? Withdrawal of conjugal rights?

Fucking hell, that's a blast from the past. Stan Bowles, wasn't he QPR? Yes, that was mullet and a half alright.

I didn't have the ready cash for a takeaway, Jacko. Can't expect the wife to do a 12 hour shift then come home and cook dinner, I do have some scruples. (They may be rotten, but they're all mine.)

I don't actually recall offering to sleep with you rat, but I'm open to negotiation. I'm beyond being fussy, tbh.

This fuckwitt had the brilliant idea of bypassing those pesky planning laws, and building a mock-tudor mansion on his farm. The cunning part of the wheeze was to simply build it, then hide it behind a fucking great bale of hay and hope that nobody spotted it. That was in 2002. Planning permission has been denied umpteen times, and he is now faced with the prospect of having to tear it down. I'd like to get a petition together, who's with me? (Not to keep his poxy house in place, but to have the cretin sectioned.)

I did consider "Christmas Lamb Surprise" rat, but if truth be told I lied towards the end there. It was actually fucking horrible.

Bought a nice half-leg of lamb at the weekend, and as the mrs was working a long shift at the hospital today, I decided to put on a nice casserole between jobs. Found a decent looking recipe off the bbc website by that downsy spacker jamie oliver, and set to it. We had all the ingredients, the last of which was a bouquet garni; I knew we had these as I'd bought the fuckers a few months back and stuffed them in the kitchen drawer, they're like a teabag. Lobbed it in at lunchtime, oven on low, lavvly jabbly as the faux-cockernee would put it. Picked up the wife from work at 7, back home, gave her a glass of vino reddo and proudly took the casserole out the oven. Served it up on a pile of mash, and in we tucked. Cough from the wife. "Ahem.....interesting flavour, what spices did you use?" I told her it was just seasoning and a bouquet garni. "Where did you find that?" she asks. I showed her. "Thats a fucking mulled wine sachet," she informs me. Still, it didn't taste half bad so if anyone wants the recipe, pmail me.