After all this time you aught to know how to handicap this. Actually quite gruesome, in fact.
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After all this time you aught to know how to handicap this. Actually quite gruesome, in fact.
raincoaster 
kind of like a multinational corporation taking on a lawyer
or my ex girlfriend, since I thought I was tough and smart until she consumed me
Somewhere in the confluence of these comments is a country song waiting to be born.
The arms of big business
And their sucking little cups
turned my world an inky black
but drew me in like cute little pups (bear with me, I’m having a Conway Twitty moment here)
In an embrace as tight as my ex, I saw a scary beak
And knew I was gonna die
cos things were looking bleak.
(still gotta work in the lawyer thingy)
Two comments:
They waited ‘week after week’ before investigating why there were shark carcasses in the bottom of the tank?
Obviously they weren’t feeding that octopus enough.
I hope sharks aren’t expensive, that’s all I can say. No wonder they charge so much admission.
As for the country music, well I thought all Yanks knew it was “Cuz” and not “cos” which is British. Country aficionados use “Cuz” because it’s simpler to remember one word with two meanings than also to have to memorize “Cousin.” or “Uncle Daddy.”
Sorry. I guess I missed the part about inbreeding >:B^D
Also forgot, I spent three years as a young’un in Cornwall. Thus, the ‘cos’
Do they have hillbillies in Cornwall? Would that be fenbillies?
Not sure. I’ll go look back through the family pics
I’m one to talk. You know that song “The Orange and the Green”? There you have my family tree: a whole civil war in one woman. No wonder I turned out the way I did.
That was my reason for living for a coule of years – wearing orange on St. Patrick’s Day to piss off a fellow reporter who wore his Irish heritage on his sleeve, even though he was as Irish as Paddy’s pig.
I’ve got a little Welsh in me, but I don’t go running around toasting the Prince of Wales all day.
Nor does anyone else, except Camilla. The instant she stops, it’s all over for her.
I will give Charles just a fraction of leeway – he was a naval aviator for a bit.
Still not as cool as Formerly Randy Andy.
Dunno. Hard to argue with a Phantom jock in any air arm . . .
Flight commander? Helicopter warfare instructor? Active service? Formerly Randy Andy still takes it in my book.
Not saying that being a Sea King driver is a bad thing either, but it’s a character defect that I still give Phanton drivers a fraction of slack – even if Charles flew that damned Spey-powered gimp version or if our own Randy Cunningham managed to mangle forever his reputation as an ace (and not even that good a reputation, since I’ve met Steve Ritchie, our other, much more likeable Phantom ace). Come to think of it, if you’ve met, read or heard about Cunningham, Chawles gets an extra fraction of a point in the standings. A fraction, mind you . . . .
Nothing like being a relativist >B^D
Ah, relativists offend me, categorically! And the great thing is, they have no possible comeback to that…
Maybe we do. Maybe we don’t. It depends. >8^p
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, I love the smell of an apostate in the morning…deep fried.
PS didn’t Andy qualify for Chinook as well? He basically has a solid career as an aviator. Charles wore the uniform, he walked the walk just long enough for Philip to get off his back and then he went back to Highcroft and started jabbering to his herbaceous borders. His heart wasn’t in it.
Mind you, as a former Greenpeacer, I have respect for both types. But I mean, come on. “Was on stage with Donny Osmond” does NOT outrank “spent eternity toiling in twilight, only to be discovered after death”.
Although Donny was cute.
I’m sure a fried apostate smells better than a fried prostate.
Shame I’m not single. . . .. >8^D
If your apostate is fried, I’d just drive you to the hospital for a replacement anyway. I don’t date fried apostates.
Thankfully, in Canada getting your apostate replaced is free!
Wouldl you sign for me then?
a-HA! (not the group) That’s why Durham has clogged drains – the national health service does apostate exams there!
Tourists promise to “pay later” and if it’s an emergency (as I presume a fried apostate would be, but then how would I know?) they take you anyway. If it’s not an emergency they lapse into broken English and say, “Sor-ay, madame, oui ne do zeez op-AY-razion ici maintenant, alors bien eh?” over and over until the tourist goes away muttering about socialism.
As for the Durham theory, it accounts for much. Brazilliant!
“Brazilliant” – how Xavier Cugat described Charo’s dance moves.
I stole it from Perez Hilton, actually (check blogroll). He’s Cuban, though. Clicking on his blog automatically triggers a trace at the NSA. They are very confused, there, about just what Nicole Richie’s role is in national security.
As are we all.
Our national security infrastructure can be described through this (slightly mangled) excerpt froma Pink Panther movie.
“Look out, there’s a boumb!”
“A boom?”
“Yes, a boumb?”
“A boom?”
“A boumb, a boumb!”