honez

Read this.

I think the Paul Hunter thread had its moments, and the Jsoie Gorevs thread looks like it's going to end up a real crowd pleaser thanks to our friend Mr Google.

I can't believe you've got nothing better to do than Google her name.

I'm a firm supporter of the school of thought that if your pick is only famous for being terminally ill, then they shouldn't be eligible. They have to be independently B-List Celebs (or C) before they contract terminal syphillis or sillicone cancer or whatever. I don't have much of a moral gripe either way about someone's age, but I won't be picking her for her lack of celeb status before becoming a brave little heart. I know I'll probably miss out on some decent points by the look of it, but there's simply no moral quandry for me here.

With eight errors in two sentences, surely you don't expect anyone to take you seriously?

If England lose, does Sir Flintoff have to give his gong back to HRH?

Weet-Bix 2 Weetabix 0 Well that was rather exciting! A test match followed by a 20-20 run chase at the end. What jolly fun.

Indeed, you set such a high standard Banshee.

Don't you mean Weet-Bix? Either way, not really.

Thanks for that Stu, or should I call you Mr Pid?

I don't like the cut of your jib, sonny I don't understand what you are getting at Mz Tits. I merely replied to G5K that indeed I am still interested regardless of who is playing well. I also described the joy I felt--which indeed any cricket fan would share--at seeing first-class cricketers in their midst, on a few otherwise monotonous work days. In addition, I gave an account of what I thought their mental status was at the time I glimpsed them sucking down their bacon and egg sarnies. It perplexes me why my reply to G5K and me being a fan on-the-spot goads you so much, girlie.

V for Vendetta. Not a lizard or alien mothership in sight, but pretty good notwithstanding.

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.

Me. And the added bonus is that I work near the hotel where the England team are staying at the moment--I get to see their glum faces as they traipse between the hot breakfast buffet and the team bus in the morning.

I got my gun out for a bash at a few clays and accidentally shot the tyres off my Cortina? What should I do? Tie a note to a pigeon and send him to the RAC. When the RAC man gets there, shoot him and steal the wheels off his van.

Skirting boards, dislocated toe and gritted-teeth home-style toe relocation.

Of course it seats 4. It's the rebadged and exported version of the Holden Monaro (re-rebadged in Europe as the Vauxhaul/Opel Monaro) An absolute cracker of a car and as Australian as they came. Unfortunately they stopped making them and have moved the model range up. THe closest thing they have to it now is the Commodore SSVrange Drool over them Here

Fridge magnets. Tiny collectible non-functioning teapots. Spyware and Spam. People who crap on about being discriminated against for being such-and-such. But they're really being discriminated against for being a complete tosser. People like this always put it down to them being whatever minority they see themselves as, but their fellow minority chums recognise them as tossers and treat them accordingly. Meanwhile, tossers think they're being even more discriminated against and complain even more. Charlatans of any faith, creed or persuasion.

Big pecker 1, little pecker 0.

Hallelujah! I have seen The Lord!

Can anyone explain this video for me. It's a fine piece of animation but I don't understand the significance of the tree. Why does the Kiwi nail it to the cliff? Am I to assume the Kiwi is knowingly plunging to its death like some kamikaze enjoying a brief moment of joy in flight? Is that it? But what about that tree? The trees make it look like he's flying above the treetops. That's what makes the (visual) difference between plunging and flying (at least for him I suppose). Plus, you know, emphasizing hard work for your goals and all that I guess. Either that, or it's the excuse an average New Zealander gives when caught in a compromising situation with native wildlife; "What? They love getting nailed." Boom, Tsch. I thank you.

Yeah, like.

That all depends on whether the death certificate states (9mm) lead poisoning as COD, instead of a hail of bullets from the (requested) firing squad.

Same here. FF2 on XP appears functional, although I've got to say, testing it has been my one and only foray into dead chat.

Patrick Moore - Patrick No Moore, Extronomer. Charlton Heston - Holstered. Dino de Laurentiis - Laurentiis Extincticus. Joseph Barbera - Yabba Dabba Done. Elizabeth Taylor - Ex-ex-wife. Ronnie Biggs - Finally Slippered. Lady Bird Johnson - What's red with black spots and six-feet under?