Frank

It’s not all about you, Eric. That coon has upset me dearly. Nothing more.. nothing less.

Aks someone who cares. lol LOL.

Ed I managed to get access today to the public gallery at the Darren Pencille trial. What a fucking disgusting jamba wumba.

A resilient old boot, it’s hard to believe that she never really did exist. I did genuinely lose someone after a long Illness around the time of Ming’s ninth episode, and that seemingly fucked me up. Mrs R has ignored my requests to delete my account, yet I still log in like the stupid cunt I am.

Without exaggeration, coined phrases on here have been lifted by the majority from my now deleted back catalogue. Dead-dadded included. There’s a little Frank in all of us, and that’s fine by me.

I’ll get the guitar.

Give me a couple of pointers, proper, you stupid old cunt. Name it.. I’ll put this place right.

I don’t know who you are. I’ve just had a quick glance at your recent posts and I can assure you this is the last you’ll ever hear from me. Diabolical fucking wimp.

Good effort but once again it’s at least a paragraph too far. Started to wane at the third, and by the fourth paragraph you’ve just killed it dead. Do it again.

That’s not true, Withers.

No. None.

Shut your fucking gob, you tedious little prick.

RK I’m probably your greatest fan on here where crayon shit is concerned. However, you’ve gone way above and beyond what any of us could’ve expected in dealing with our new American friend. I’ll tell you now.. it doesn’t suit you.

Superb.

I think you’re great. It’s the true intellects like you and Bill that buried poor Frank. However, I think it’s fair to say that Mrs R, and not for the first time, has you well and truly rattled.

I’m on the beach surrounded by fat spics, laughing at the thought of snagging an ankle on a scrotum. Welcome back. Would you like to suck my dick?

Just picture that for a moment... me tripping up and over your ancient pendulous ball sack and disappearing up Roops arse.

If I’m brutally honest, Pen, to ‘snag one of my sparrow ankles on your pendulous scrotum’ is the funniest thing I’ve read in weeks.

If that’s you in rapid fire reply mode, I’d suggest you have a chat with yourself. Repetitive pedestrian bollocks. Slow down and do it again.

Without a doubt the boy’s on the decline. If the membership ever caught sight of some of his emails to Mrs R, he’d be gone for good. Sad little wanker.

What a pleasure to have you back. Cry-baby petty fucking ponce. Fuck off.

Gyps what’s the thinking behind you getting away with a semicolon?

It’s hard to love a man whose legs are bent and paralysed.

I like you a lot, Éric.

It’s a short hop across on the ferry from Tarifa, Withers. Okay?