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Author Topic: My daughter Sadie  (Read 43946 times)
bolt pp
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« Reply #60 on: December 09, 2008, 11:33:10 PM »

Mrs Red is watching Thunderbirds.

In this particular scene, the crew of Thunderbird 3 are lowering a rescue line to Parker, who is standing on top of a runaway cable car. Inside are Lady Penelope and Tintin, they are hurtling toward certain death.

The rescue line is waving about in the wind, and Parker is having trouble getting hold of it, time is running out.

Disaster looms ever closer. Finally, Mrs Red can stand the tension no longer. Almost beside herself, she screams at the TV, "Come on Parker, you little plastic divvy!"

 

You're ostracising youself with that comment from half of the blonde community that may or may not engage in: "relations" with plastic people, some have paid good Money too, should be more conscientious about what you post as a mod, you never know who you might offend!!
« Last Edit: December 09, 2008, 11:36:26 PM by bolt pp » Logged
Laxie
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« Reply #61 on: December 09, 2008, 11:48:50 PM »

Thought you were gone to bed 
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« Reply #62 on: December 09, 2008, 11:50:43 PM »

Thought you were gone to bed 

I swear i was about to then i clicked refresh just before i was about to go, i'd drunk some water and taken some paracetamol and evertything, then you post this and i'm wide awake again!!!!

I'll be up for another 1/2 hour now Roll Eyes
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« Reply #63 on: December 11, 2008, 07:10:27 PM »

Thought you were gone to bed 

I swear i was about to then i clicked refresh just before i was about to go, i'd drunk some water and taken some paracetamol and evertything, then you post this and i'm wide awake again!!!!

I'll be up for another 1/2 hour now Roll Eyes

Are you sure that was Paracetamol you took ?...I don't think it comes in little blue pills.
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« Reply #64 on: January 15, 2009, 07:50:59 PM »

Last week my father and I were sitting in his caravan, watching some birds through the window.

Me: What's that bird?
Dad: A dunnock hen.
Me: So you don't know, no need to get all scottish about it.
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« Reply #65 on: January 16, 2009, 07:12:35 AM »

Last week my father and I were sitting in his caravan, watching some birds through the window.

Me: What's that bird?
Dad: A dunnock hen.
Me: So you don't know, no need to get all scottish about it.

oh boy.
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« Reply #66 on: January 16, 2009, 08:02:16 PM »

tom fairplay you got some classics but i think my missus takes some beating with the silly one liners.,.,.,.,.,

last night fkin about with her coz shes potty.,.,.,
me what time is the 9 o clock film on luv?
her 10 i think i think hun.,.,..,and she really ment it..,.,

something she said the other day,,,ah  well i think it's 6 of one,and 6 of the other.,.,wtf?Huh?

she had me and my sister in stiches a few weeks ago.,.,.,
she was talking about someone and didnt know his name..,.,
she said somthing like.,.,you know.,.,you know.,.,him,,,,hes irish,,,,hes from ireland.,.,.,.,lmao.,.

she is so potty,but on a serious note she is very,very inteligent,...,sometimes.,.,.,.,

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« Reply #67 on: January 20, 2009, 12:45:17 AM »

Me: (in front of the shaving mirror) Blimey Zell, I'm not love's young dream anymore, you'll have to start loving me for my mind.

Zell: Well I certainly can't love you for your money.

Me: I keep you in the manner to which you have become accustomed don't I?

Zell: Yes... Poverty!
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« Reply #68 on: January 20, 2009, 06:03:53 AM »

lol
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« Reply #69 on: January 21, 2009, 11:22:06 AM »

My aunt M (Who is in her 70's) cooked the Sunday lunch last week, exactly the same way she as she had cooked it, week in, week out for over 50 years. The only difference was, this time, instead of making fresh Yorkshire puddings, she used some of those "Aunt Bessie's" pre-cooked ones.

My uncle D, a hard living, hard fighting, hard drinking man, also in his 70's, came home from the pub and sat down to his dinner, as he had done for over 50 years.

"What's this?" He asked, tapping the Yorkshire pudding suspiciously with his knife, "Fast food?"

"Yes it is, so what?" Replied my aunt M defiantly from the kitchen.

The next moment, the dinner plate, complete with the Yorkshire puddings and the rest of the meal came whizzing past her head and on out through the open caravan door.

The brief silence that followed was broken my uncle D's softly spoken enquiry, "Was that fast enough for you?"
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« Reply #70 on: January 21, 2009, 11:46:56 AM »

Looks like it's a pub lunch on Sundays for Uncle D from now on.
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sofa----king
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« Reply #71 on: January 21, 2009, 04:29:20 PM »

mel just come out with another one .,.,.,went a bit like this.,.,

niall .,.,.dad me and mum watched a sad film today and mum cried,,,
me     silly cow...
melanie    yeah,,,but we seen it before,,,
niall   ,yeah but you cried then aswell,,,
melanie   yeah i know,, but it wasnt as sad as the first time,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
me    your bonkers
melanie,,,well i knew what was comming this time....



look what i have to put up with..,.,.,but i would never change it.,.,lol
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« Reply #72 on: January 21, 2009, 04:33:29 PM »

My aunt M (Who is in her 70's) cooked the Sunday lunch last week, exactly the same way she as she had cooked it, week in, week out for over 50 years. The only difference was, this time, instead of making fresh Yorkshire puddings, she used some of those "Aunt Bessie's" pre-cooked ones.

My uncle D, a hard living, hard fighting, hard drinking man, also in his 70's, came home from the pub and sat down to his dinner, as he had done for over 50 years.

"What's this?" He asked, tapping the Yorkshire pudding suspiciously with his knife, "Fast food?"

"Yes it is, so what?" Replied my aunt M defiantly from the kitchen.

The next moment, the dinner plate, complete with the Yorkshire puddings and the rest of the meal came whizzing past her head and on out through the open caravan door.

The brief silence that followed was broken my uncle D's softly spoken enquiry, "Was that fast enough for you?"

my nan did something similar to this top,,but it ended up her throwing a mug at my grandfather across the room and breaking his jaw,,,,,she was 82 he was 84 lmao,,,god bless her she went on to be 101 and great for her age living in her own home on her own untill she passed away quietly...she was top my nan....

i think the story about her throwing the mug at him was she wouldnt make him a cuppa if i re-call lol......
and he was the gramps to got to ww1 battle of the somme at about aged 16-17 ....i love stories like this..
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« Reply #73 on: January 27, 2009, 09:11:57 PM »

I've had a bit of a sore tummy for the last couple of days....

Me: I'm a bit peckish, what would you eat if you had my belly?

Mrs Red: I'd never eat again if I had your belly.
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Robert HM
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« Reply #74 on: January 27, 2009, 11:44:36 PM »

lol very subtle, not
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