Rebecca de Winter

Thankyou, CR, I shan't waste my money then. I feel that Daniel is missing the "cool factor" that all the other Bonds possessed....

Agreed....bloody marvellous...... and you redcoats should probably stop calling us convicts - those grapes are very sour....

Never mind, I got it..... time and place?

Please explain.

Good-looking dogs? Isn't that an oxymoron?

Australia - 2 England - nil Michael Hussey - the quiet achiever.....

And what would be the point of such an escapade? I have forgotten in the contemplation of such obvious folly....no, wait....it's coming to me....I have it! You wanted to see whether Mr. O'Sullivan might make it onto this year's list after all, and if not, maybe next year's? Save yourselves the grief, my foolish friends, he is in no immediate danger of becoming one of your statistics just yet - I'm sure he will outlive me, and probably you too, especially if you decide to "take on" the "dobermans" - and I'm not just talking about dogs...

I don't think Mr. O'Sullivan will be going to heaven, or the other place, any time soon, with or without Ms. Sugden...

"The Soul Slayer" by Paul Doherty.

Just one more day to tote the weary load......and then.....

When it all goes belly-up, don't say I didn't warn you....

You would not even make it past the front gate before the dobermans tore out your throats.... or something else...

I guess with Fluff gone, Richard is now arguably the most famous inmate at Brinsworth House?

"Hostage" - one of Bruce Willis's best, I think.

Anyone from Adelaide out there care to comment on the second test??

When did we stop calling them weathermen or weathergirl and began to referring to them as meteorologists ? In my neck of the woods we do actually have trained meteorologists who give us their expert opinions on the daily weather, at least on some television stations. Other stations do have "weather girls" who read out the experts opinions, trying very hard to pretend that these opinions are their own...

Yes. Room 101. Which is where your cheap weatherman (ooh, that Michael Fish, I'd have his guts for garters etc.) pseudo-rantoid drivel belongs, simpleton, as indicated by my post above. "People" like you, who would put almost every little thing which you can't control into Room 101, deserve to be the first and, possibly, only things to go into Room 101. Does that concept belong in the Irony thread? And, if so, would that be oxymoronic? It's all gone a bit Schroedinger's cat, disappearing up it's own cute little bum in a tautological mess of internal contradiction, hasn't it? What? Is that really the best you can do, Six? (no, no, sorry, you're not Six are you; just remarkably like Six) "Opinions of other DLers"? Pardon, "Milady"? I'm pretty good at english comprehension, but your post leaves me baffled. Keep the opinions of others to myself? How exactly does one accomplish that? What are they teaching the kids these days? No wonder there's so many ASBOs being handed out. Your problem, Little Mith Thix, is that you've blown your best material (moron, pathetic) in one post, whereas I could be here all day long (ok you got me, that is quite pathetic) ripping you to itty-bitty shreds without so much as scratching the tippy-tip-tip of my ranting iceberg. Some might say it's what I do best. Sound advice, if you wish to avoid my ire, would be to simply ignore me like mpfc does. He never rises to the bait. But can you summon the intestinal fortitude to let me have the last word? Can you? I can almost hear you sitting there in your bedroom, in your Manchester United boxer shorts, wibbling your testes, scouring www.thesaurus.com for some suitable retort. Now, go play with the other pretend-female DLers and play nice, Six... sorry, Rebecca, or Jonathan, whatever... there's a good little "girl". No throwing your toys out the pram, now, or it'll be the "naughty thtep" for you, you hear me? Room 101? I'd put all these vacuous, fake-female Boudicca wannabes with their been-done-before avatars in there for starters... followed by a can of petrol and a lit match, ideally. Or is that going too far? A thousand apologies - it was "your oninions of other DLers" I meant to type. You have serious anger issues, Mr. Hopkins, if that is you - perhaps you and a certain other person who also suffers with this problem could get together and scream at each other and save the rest of us having to "listen" to you. I never did a damn thing to you, so why don't you do a "Shcroedinger's cat" stunt and prove the theory - it's a shame you waste all that obvious intelligence and energy on such puerile pursuits, especially as you apparently regard all others as lesser beings. A little slower on the uptake this time but you got there in the end...*cough*

Shitehawks, albeit beautifully-named ones, like you who think that localised meteorology is, somehow, a precise science. "Oh, the weathermen got it wrong again, tut tut. Here's me in my summer dress and it's actually a little bit drizzly..." Try looking out the window, if you can afford one. Did you even read the name of this thread, moron?? Go and rant somewhere else and keep your "language" and opinions of other DLers to your pathetic self.

"Frankly Scarlett, I Do Give a Damn!" - classic romances retold.

Trained meteorologists who always get the weather predictions wrong, every single time, without fail.

"Plots With a View"...quite funny, if you like films about death and morticians and sex....

Chuckle chuckle fall about.....don't ask me - just because I used to play cricket at school doesn't mean I actually know anything about it....

Yeah, I er mentioned it a couple of posts ago.....sort of my "raison d'etre", so to speak...and a truly great film!

I think I can help here too. On their return to dear old blighty, the excellent chaps in the English team should pay their local street market a visit. If they chance upon a bakery stall, then they should take every effort to steal a loaf bread and ensure they are captured by the local constabulary. Upon sentencing, they should plead for mercy from the Judge who instead of taking the birch to them or hanging them by their necks until dead, out of the sweet goodness of his soul, may decide to transport them to the Antipodes. Once safely arrived in the colonies, these excellent chaps should take up with a local wench or two for the purpose of whelping. After a sufficient number of generations, training and a large amount of BBQed steak, the progeny of said chaps, approximately two hundred years hence may very well be in with a chance of knocking some sticks over. The only problem with this ingenious plan is that the sticks they'd be knocking over would be English sticks. Again. Well said, old son, hear hear....

Empire...not strictly "a film", but an excellent min-series.