Frank

​Veedon Fleece?

​Late night, Proper? Take tomorrow off.. it's on me.

​Have you added a new feature to your Chris Reeves (puff- forward / suck- reverse / swallow- continuous spin) wheelchair? This cunt might hurt you..

​I recall some bird down on the coast who would prop her fat fucking self up on the kitchen counter, spread her legs and stuff sponge and Eccles cake up her hole until it bled.

POLITICAL CORRECTNESS GORNNNN MAAAAAAAAAAAAAD… Noted. ​That's not entirely true.. smuggy. LBC's Nick Abbot, although restricted, has both wit and intelligence.

​ A schoolboy error Scotty. The conceited bore will be the first to acknowledge that there still is so much to learn… the tenant scum.

​I don't particularly want to get involved in any of this nastiness.. I'm sure you'll both come to your sappy senses. When did Decimus become a pudding?

​The Spotlight understudy filling for the understudy who failed to show. Plain awful.

I could only wish to aspire to the things you've achieved in this corner for cunts. The difference you make hasn't gone unnoticed. I am a little further south of France - the med runs through my vains.

Arise, Sir Van.

​What an awful priggish little man. Perhaps we can come up with some sort of schedule that you can follow, so that we can get along. Meanwhile, kindly shut the fuck up.

​He has his place. I don't like to see the weak being bullied by all and sundry. Put yourself in his shoes.. you can't argue with an idiot.

​Like I said - bitter. Great site by the way.

Thanks for sharing your superb response Bill. Quite clearly a self-absorbed narcissistic time wasting bore.

​I rather enjoy the the dizziness of the Jazz character. This bitter animosity towards him only serves to highlight your own shortcomings.

Noted.

With respect, it's not really a 'statement'... thickstick. I've asked a straight forward question regarding your promiscuity, made a basic assumption on your availability, and more or less called you a dirty fuckin stinking whore.

You were in my dream last night, dingalong. There was you and I, Jacko and Gobbie night fishing for carp in a pop-up tent on the Regent's canal. One by one, we all set fire to ourselves. Gobbie had awful acne scars... but an incredibly full bosom.

Oi stinkhole, how many boss-eyed inbred knobs have you had up your dusty? I'd assume the 'ladies' within your unwashed commune are shared around like a packet of fucking wine gums. I can only imagine the state of your mattress.

Pile of shit.

Long live the tot. Hurrah. Shit.

Tonight Jacqueline I'm at Ronnie Scott's... Marlena Shaw. Wonderful. I started with Côte-Rôtie for lunch and I'm fucking smokin in my Kilgour blue. Some lingering looks from the mature ladies. Shame Ming's with me... the mis-hog.

'Fat wife' That was too rude of me.. although close friends should always speak the truth. I would never have left Aña May if she hadn't become so fucking fat. Such a sweet face.

My grandparents worked for the railway throughout the war.. both based at Euston. I still think of them almost every day. Nan would pick me up from school on Wednesdays in her beige Aquascutum overcoat. We'd go to Selfridges to buy the best marbles... clearies, shooters and onionskins.

I have a '60's vélo Solex. What do you think about that MikefuckingD?