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@groucho wrote:
i am now offically off the market and very happy but i will still continue to visit 99% of your people
glad to hear ya happy groucho and that you’ll also find time to visit.
:lol:
@ncb wrote:
toybulldog,,,,,,, I found your pu ssy. But it’s a bit pi ssed at you this moment. So I took a pic of it for you.
So you wouldn’t have taken a pic if it looked a bit happy ?
But NCb that’s not my cat. My pu/ssy purrs with biological radiance.
:D
+ todd rundgren
pete frampton
. . . . .
Wipe Out – The Surfaris
Walk Don’t Run – The Ventures
Misirlou – Dick Dale & The Del Tones.
although more to do with surfin and pre-garage of course.
but if it’s not sport then I’ll have the Jolly Roger.
:lol:
Fly the Jack ! When the Welsh, Scottish and N.Irish are at the Olympics I run every step of the way with them as they swim, cycle and compete in beach volleyball, which the Scots are extremely good at btw. I even cheer them on at the drug tests and have the banners to prove it. This is our land of warm villages, green beer and sunny asbo’s and everyone has spitfires stencilled into their underwear.
But the World Cup comes round and I thank the good lord for that reversible flag I bought at Poundstretcher. (The one run by a family of immigrants).
Then it’s………..’Who are Ya’ @ Taff …………the passionate ‘Could You Please Replace Our Goalposts ty Jock’…… and me all time favourite ………’You’re So Shyte it’s Unbelievable Brendan’……………….. which my nan taught me as a nipper when she fed me kebabs carved from the thighs of Uwe Seeler.
rgds
brendan
Ashes
Some are nights others stars
Each night lights up its star
And dances a black dance around it
Until the star burns outThen the nights split up
Some become stars
The others remain nightsAgain each night lights up its star
And dances a black dance round it
Until the star burns outThe last night becomes both star and night
It lights itself
Dances the black dance round itself.
Portobello road, Portobello road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed.
Anything and everything a chap can unload
Is sold off the barrow in Portobello road.
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello road.Rare alabaster? Genuine plaster!
A filigreed samovar owned by the czars.
A pen used by Shelley? A new Boticelli?
The snipper that clipped old King Edward’s cigars?Waterford Crystals? Napoleon’s pistols?
Society heirlooms with genuine gems!
Rembrandts! El Greco’s! Toulouse-Letrec’os!
Painted last week on the banks of the Thames!Portobello road, Portobello road!
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Anything and everything a chap can unload
Is sold off the barrow in Portobello road.
You’ll meet all your chums in the Portobello roadThere’s pure inspiration in every creation.
No cheap imitations, not here in me store.
With garments as such as was owned by a Duchess.
Just once at some royal occasion of yore.In Portobello Road, Portobello Road
The fancies and fineries of ages are showed.
A lady will always feel dressed a la mode
In frillies she finds in the Portebollo road.“Burke’s Peerage;” “The Bride Book;” “The Fishmonger’s Guidebook;”
A Victorian novel, “The Unwanted Son;”
“The History of Potting”, “The Yearbook of Yachting,”
The leather bound “Life of Attila the Hun.”Portobello Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Artifacts to glorify our regal abode
Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello Road
You’ll find what you want in the Portobello RoadTokens and treasures, yesterday’s pleasures
Cheap imitations of heirlooms of old
Dented and tarnished, scarred and unvarnished
In old Portobello they’re bought and they’re soldPortobello Road, Portobello Road
Street where the riches of ages are stowed
Artifacts to glorify our regal abode
Are hidden in the flotsam in Portobello road.You’ll find what you want in the Portobello Road
