morning,
Is it safe to emerge from my hut?
All this talk of duels
And all these strange people?
second thoughts-I'll stay within.
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montmorency
Over 90 days ago
Straight Male, 67
Forum
Quote by Sgt Bilko
2 - 1 to the Ingerland, 2 - 1 to the Ingerland, :karaoke: :karaoke:
2 - 1 to the Ingerland ,2 - 1 to the Ingerland, :karaoke: :karaoke:
Come on England!!!!
Are we talking the final series score in the series Mr. Bilko? That would be a reasonable prediction following today's play at Trent Bridge. However, I do think 2-1 is an unlikely score for a test match. Also, we are playing New Zealand-not France. i'm sure you must have got a little confused, as Wimbledon is some way away, as is Henley, and I don't think Glyndebourne is competitive. I can't think of anything else happening this summer?
Montmorency
Mr Lee,
By the way, are you the father of Bruce Lee? I only ask because I was thrown out of the the Hammersmith 'Dragon King' last week and they still have my credit card. I thought Bruce might be able to put in a good foot, sorry word, for me, and get it back. It is an egg Card and might well be bacteriologically challenged by now.
M.
By the way, are you the father of Bruce Lee? I only ask because I was thrown out of the the Hammersmith 'Dragon King' last week and they still have my credit card. I thought Bruce might be able to put in a good foot, sorry word, for me, and get it back. It is an egg Card and might well be bacteriologically challenged by now.
M.
Quote by davej
I reckon that your story is hogwash and my experiaments with Mirrabelle have proved it.
HOGWASH!!! :shock:
Mr Dave J, Sir, I am aghast (and ghasts are not things you should annoy!). I , and my little winged friends, here in the Tin Shed, are bereft. I have only just managed to console Titania, who is Mirrabelle's Fairy Godmother, and has been searching for her precious relative ever since she was kidnapped by marauding Elves and carrried away to be sold to the infamous 'Woolly Worth Gang', a wicked band of pirates and 'Christmas Traders'. It is obvious to us-and frankly, we don't understand why you couldn't see it-that poor Mirabelle was already dead when you attempted your callous experiment. Oh, the poor, lonely little thing. she obviously died of a broken heart (hastened by a length of Norway Spruce up her jacksy) while perched atop your abominable tree. I just pray that you didn't make her suffer even more horribly by letting her see the 'Only Fools and Horses' Christmas Special. Please, at least make some amends for your wickedness, and return her little corpse-assuming the magpies haven't wuffed it-to her grieving relatives, here in the Tin Shed. You might wish to make an offering-say, a few hundred of your human pounds-to placate the Fairies. They have no use for money, but merely like the colour and smell of it, and the pretty pictures of 'The Corgi Lady', as they affectionately call her. I will ensure its safekeeping as I am their banker/financial adviser.
M.
'
Quote by davej
OMG !!!! :shock: :shock:
Who thinks up these concoctions, to clean hands, myself I prefer fairy,:D its goes on for longer and is kind to your hands.
Mrs FC please dont use fairies to clean your hands, they are becoming very rare and the rest of us will not have anything to put on top of our christmas trees.
This post has caused me to (reluctantly) emerge from the sanctuary of the Tin Shed. I normally support the ever-wise words of Mr DaveJ with alacrity. However, this time I cannot.
Mr DaveJ, Sir, there are several facts which I think you should consider:
1/Fairies are NOT suited to, and indeed dislike, being perched atop a Christmas Tree; they are, in fact, terrified of heights. Have you never noticed that in all pictures of them, they are hovering only just above the ground? They do not normally fly very high and are poor fliers: have you never noticed 'Fairy Rings' in your garden or in a field? Idiotic scientists have stated this is due to spores from mushrooms and fungi. Piffle! It is the result of little trainee Fairies running round and round and round trying to get enough speed to achieve lift off.
2/Fairies are a protected species under 'The Wildlife and Countryside Act of 1981'. It is illegal to remove, disturb or harm them. Mrs FC, I really think you should bear that in mind before washing your pinkies with them! It may be a tad embarrasing to have the long arm of the law suddenly grabbing hold of you??
3/ EC Directive 92/43/EEC (colloquially known as 'The Habitats Directive') puts a duty on the Government to protect the habitats of native creatures, especially those that are becoming rare. Normally this is done by Government Agencies but, in the case of Fairies, it is me. I approached them to ask for this job as, being a poet, I saw more Fairies, Elves, Brownies and mystical entities than most. The officials agreed with me and said that I was well suited as I was obviously away with them anyway. So, do not interfere with their little grottos! Or Oberon and I will be round 'with the boys'!
4/Returning to the Christmas theme, please refrain from putting Fairy Lights on your tree. It really is unfair to rob these little people of their illumination at the darkest time of the year. Remember , a Fairy is for 'never-never', not just for Christmas.
5/ If you require any more information on Fairies, Elves, fauns, Pixies or 'little people', please contact me, or my equivalent in the USA, Mr. Jackson (although he doesn't appear to be answering his telephone at the moment).
Regards
Montmorency
Chairman of Fairy: National Union of Faerie Folk ( FAIRYNUFF)
Quote by MISSCHIEF
Dave
I think you're a tad confused ...... again. You're mistaking the real thing with Aunt Flo charging around with her Olympus Six, grouping people together to take a little 'pixie' for the family album. While simultaniously throwing confetti in the air to create 'atmosphere'.
Neither Pixies or cameras fart confetti ok :roll:
Dave,
What are these people on ?:doh: I really think you should review your list of aquaintances. I can understand people being sceptical about unicorns, after all, they are invisible when there is an 'R' in the month, but come on, EVERY ONE knows that Pixies shit confetti. How do they think the damned stuff is made in the first place-bits of paper or something?? I don't think so.
By the way Dave, can I borrow Pegasus next week: we've got the chance of a stay in a cottage in France, but can't get a flight. I'd hate to miss it as Mrs M is so tired after cleaning up after our seven lodgers all week. It's all very well for them to sing 'Hi-Ho' all day, but someone has to mend their little caps and sharpen their little picks. The useless devil of a housekeeper they brought with them just moons about looking wan and pasty.
Anyway, I'll pop over next week for Pegasus if that's OK? Must dash, children have disappeared through the back of the wardrobe again...
M
Actually, I dont agree with all this condemnation of Unicorn Poo: let me tell you it's REALLY useful stuff.
For example, a farmer friend of mine keeps a few Unicorn for the soul purpose of collecting their poo. When he's running late, and spreading muck in the dark, he just mixes a barrow of nice glittery Unicorn Poo with all the normal poo in his spreader and he can see exactly where the stuff is landing, even in total darkness. He has also diversified his farm business and now takes his spreader out for Bonfire Night, New Years Eve, Weddings etc-he finds he can undercut the fireworks people quite easily yet still put on a more colourful display.
It's also liked by fishermen: they hunt among it for the worms which have been eating away at it. Apparently, not only can you see exactly where your hook is at night, but fish find them irresistible..
But, biggest demand of all is from the mushroom growers: they plant their spores on it and get really 'magic' mushrooms.
So, don't knock it: if you don't want it, I'll bring me barrow round.
For example, a farmer friend of mine keeps a few Unicorn for the soul purpose of collecting their poo. When he's running late, and spreading muck in the dark, he just mixes a barrow of nice glittery Unicorn Poo with all the normal poo in his spreader and he can see exactly where the stuff is landing, even in total darkness. He has also diversified his farm business and now takes his spreader out for Bonfire Night, New Years Eve, Weddings etc-he finds he can undercut the fireworks people quite easily yet still put on a more colourful display.
It's also liked by fishermen: they hunt among it for the worms which have been eating away at it. Apparently, not only can you see exactly where your hook is at night, but fish find them irresistible..
But, biggest demand of all is from the mushroom growers: they plant their spores on it and get really 'magic' mushrooms.
So, don't knock it: if you don't want it, I'll bring me barrow round.
Quote by davej
Oh Dave you can laugh now ...... it's only a matter of time until Mrs Davej persuades you that the ideal holiday is a 2 week coach trip round Europe :twisted:
No. please,,,, please,,,, dont make me go on holiday with people that wear socks with their sandals and video buildings. :cry:
Oh, Mr Dave, I feel I must correct you on this matter: socks are relly VERY useful in sandals. They really do stop the straps from chafing the insteps, especially when on a long day out to somewhere like...Rhyl or Prestatyn. I really thing we shouldn't dissuade people .
Also, I agree with you about videoing buildings: MUCH better to take a reel of photos which can then be turned into slides to entertain the neighbours , when one returns, preferably with a little fondue event thrown in. Mrs M and I look forward to it every year. It's such a pity that our holiday always coincide with our neighbours' other pressing engagements.
Coach trips: once again you are absaloutely right (you are indeed a natural purveyor of wisdom; Miss Misschief herself declaims that you are a natural 'purve'). A coach trip to Europe leaves far too little time for buying souveniers and visiting model railways. We prefer a nice coach trip to Skegness or Lake Windemere. We have made such good friends: if only Mrs M would write down their phone numbers more accurately. Every year the ones we collect don't seem to be connected to anything. And it's so strange that all the surnames are Smith: makes looking them up in the phone directory so time consuming. But then again, it's something to do after 'Last of the Summer Wine' (I confess, we do love this programme-so 'avant garde' and risque. We are thinking of doing a coach trip to Holmfirth-now, Mr Dave, why don't you come too!)
But, to the point of this discussion: the old 'raised flagpole', as Mrs M puts it. I find that a cricket box, several sizes too small, is just the ticket. Indeed, Mrs M insists I wear one on all social occasions-just in case. She now insists I wear it in bedThe chafing eases eventually, and Johnson's Baby Powder, keeps the sweat level down. Only drawback is, that after being entombed for so long, when finally released 'Old Rodger' stands at a somewhat peculiar angle. It's made a real mess of our bedside lamps.
Anyway, don't forget about the coach trip, we've a lovely new travel rug you can share...
M
Quote by davej
Yeah but what about my racing tortoise - he's quite a bit of a conversationalist as well. His miaows always drop me in the shit with the race scrutineers.
Itsa well known fact that tortoises are capable of imitation and you should point this out when the scrutineers question the validity of your entry when it miaows like a kitten. I myself have witnessed this feat of mimicry.
Fling a tortoise down a road and it will squeel like the brakes of a car. Sling it in a pan of boiling water and hey presto it sceams like a lobster. Hit it with a hammer and it sounds remarkably like a walnut being cracked. Take confidence from this and get it entered in races and bugger the judges
Pardon me, again, Mr Dave J, Sir,
May I humbly suggest that your suggested action may not be appropriate PRE-race; I suggest you let the race be run and THEN bugger the judges.
In my frequent visits to Her Majesty's Courts of Law, always as a result of gross miscarriages of justice, I happened to note that Judges are rather particular about the manner of their buggering. They much preferred it between afternoon tea and dressing for Dinner-apparently saves having the old red-robe cleaned twice.
I hope you will forgive my little interjection, but I do like to be of service (just ask the Judges at 'The Bailey'!).
M
PS I shall not offer advice on the tortoise issue: I do not like them! They are slow, idle and slothful inhabitants of cheap 'shell-suit'.....and as a poet, I've seen too many matching this description when signing on for my 'Giro'!!
Quote by KitKat
P.S. - Monty, have Yorkie bar
lhk
Mr Kat, Sir,
I am deeply indebted: I am most partial to an occasional Yorkie and eagerly await it's arrival
M.
PS Please could you take all the ribbons and bows off it, together with it's little lead: they do tend to smell on the old barbecue
Mr FC,
I hope you find this message tied to the leg of a sparrow I have trapped in my Tin shed. I have spoken to the little fellow in my best poet's voice, and I'm sure he will find his target. I have been watching your jolly antics through my binoculars and, to be frank, all the food and drink I see being consumed has brought me over all queasy. You will be aware that ,as a poet, I am only allowed to eat and drink when there is a Z in the month; I am indeed, very hungry. I just wondered, might you throw am odd crust-or indeed a normal crust-towards my galvanised abode? I have no money, but I'm sure that it's only a matter of time before the BBC buy one of my poems for Radio 4? I'll surely pay you back then, with interest of course.
I hate to beg, but, the rumbling in my tummy is beginning to disturb the local wildlife.
Yours in anticipation
Montmorency
I am of course vegetarian, so please cut the fat off any meat you send....
I hope you find this message tied to the leg of a sparrow I have trapped in my Tin shed. I have spoken to the little fellow in my best poet's voice, and I'm sure he will find his target. I have been watching your jolly antics through my binoculars and, to be frank, all the food and drink I see being consumed has brought me over all queasy. You will be aware that ,as a poet, I am only allowed to eat and drink when there is a Z in the month; I am indeed, very hungry. I just wondered, might you throw am odd crust-or indeed a normal crust-towards my galvanised abode? I have no money, but I'm sure that it's only a matter of time before the BBC buy one of my poems for Radio 4? I'll surely pay you back then, with interest of course.
I hate to beg, but, the rumbling in my tummy is beginning to disturb the local wildlife.
Yours in anticipation
Montmorency
I am of course vegetarian, so please cut the fat off any meat you send....
Quote by davej
An excellent idea Kit I also nominate mrs FC
dear Mrs FC
I have noticed that my earlobes are starting to thicken and that it now takes me two stabs to get out of the chair which indicates to me that the years have finaly caught up with me. Is there anything you can suggest that would assist me to keep things going a little longer or should I prepare to smell of piss and biscuits with grace.
Mr DaveJ,
I am worried that you may well be jumping the gun: do you think you'd better ask Grace whether she is happy smelling of piss and biscuits? I do feel that this is stretching the bounds of any friendship somewhat, and good egg as she might well be, I feel this may be beyond the Pale. May I suggest that you 'break her in gradually', for example , you may wish to get her used to smelling of 'Horlicks' , 'Fiery Jack' or'rubber hot-water bottles', before progressing to the hard stuff. Her eventual agreement might be encouraged if you strike up a relationship with the lady, for example, you might like to partner her at Whist?
I feel I may have stumbled across a cunning plan to solve your other problem, namely, that of the racing parrot, sorry, pigeon. Ladies of Grace's vintage are well known to enjoy wearing hats with brightly coloured feathers protruding at unlikely angles; well, there you are! Persuade her that Polly is in fact the latest creation from a top Milner and she'll be your friend for life! (Just remember, when Polly shits all over her neck, do have the good manners to carry on as if nothing had happened; a Gentleman must have standards).
M.
Dear Mr Dave J,
I have held off breaking this news to you, but I fear that your racing 'Greyhound' is not what you believe him to be. May I make the suggestion that you do not feed him whilst wearing skins of dead bears on your head: this is likely to excite him beyond all reasonable limits and could cause him to rush off to the nearest brass band event, never to be seen again. Also, if you examine those splendid 'ears', I think you might find they are actually horns.
So, what can you do with him? Well, he will still race, but only if 'Lillibollereo' is played 'fortissimo' in the background. You might also wish to scream 'Shun!' and bash your boots on the ground to make him feel at home. however, overall, I feel it is a lost cause, and you are doomed to be disappointment. I suggest you cut your losses and take him to your nearest Kebab House, where they would welcome him as an honored guest, giving him the best place at the table Indeed, he will end up on the table. You will then be free to pursue the keeping ofanother 'pet'. I jusdt wonder if you are very experienced at this 'animal keepng', I enclose copies of 'Five go Mad at Whipsnade' and 'Harry Potter and the Zookeeper's Boot'. they might well help you in your quest to be a keeper of animals,
M
I have held off breaking this news to you, but I fear that your racing 'Greyhound' is not what you believe him to be. May I make the suggestion that you do not feed him whilst wearing skins of dead bears on your head: this is likely to excite him beyond all reasonable limits and could cause him to rush off to the nearest brass band event, never to be seen again. Also, if you examine those splendid 'ears', I think you might find they are actually horns.
So, what can you do with him? Well, he will still race, but only if 'Lillibollereo' is played 'fortissimo' in the background. You might also wish to scream 'Shun!' and bash your boots on the ground to make him feel at home. however, overall, I feel it is a lost cause, and you are doomed to be disappointment. I suggest you cut your losses and take him to your nearest Kebab House, where they would welcome him as an honored guest, giving him the best place at the table Indeed, he will end up on the table. You will then be free to pursue the keeping ofanother 'pet'. I jusdt wonder if you are very experienced at this 'animal keepng', I enclose copies of 'Five go Mad at Whipsnade' and 'Harry Potter and the Zookeeper's Boot'. they might well help you in your quest to be a keeper of animals,
M
Mr DaveJ,
Sir,
I am out of my tin shed for the third time in two days, which is far too much human contact for any self respecting poet to countenance. However, I am mortified by the loss of your noble steed, and erstwhile companion, the now legendary 'Malcolm'. I first heard of his sad demise on the late news, when Trevor McDonald outlined the day's events. I understand that Michael Buerk is trying to contact you with a view to a '999' special: 'Death Donkey'. I believe that some one called Crowe, Australian chap with sandals, sword and an attitude, is lined up to play Mr DaveJ. Several members of 'Swinging Heaven' have lined up to play Malcolm, claiming their ample blessings in the nether regions being qualification enough to play a donkey.
But, be that as it may, I feel responsible for the tribulations you have endured; t'were it not for my blatantly ignoring the strict guidelines on revealing secrets of 'Romany Antics', all this might never have happened. As it happens, I sold a short ditty today, and, believing that your 'reins' were the problem, proceeded to 'Mothercare' and bought you a more suitable set. Alas, they will now not be required.
But, I may be able to help you in the matter of your latest aquisition. He does indeed sound a terrific specimen; no doubt he was sold to you as an 'Afghan Hound', but, his colouring has me worried. Now, I happen to know that dogs,of any breed, are somewhat scarce in Afghanistan and I am beginning to worry about this chap. Tell me, have you noticed that Mrs DaveJ's washing has begun to disappear from the line, or been found half -chewed in a pile of droppings? Have you noticed that your new dog has a small beard, rather like certain well known Elizabethan playwrights? Would I be right in thinking that your new dog is able to climb steep (vertical) slopes with unexpected aplomb? Does he get very edgy when the window cleaner calls and pulls out the old Chamois Leather, and does he then make strange bleating noises that, to an untrained ear, sound something like'cousin'? Mmmm. I have a sneaking feeling that this type of 'dog' will never appear at Crufts-unless in one of the Kebabs sold by some of the more dubious vendors.
In order to prove my theory as to his 'provenance', I need to conduct a test:
Can you take him to your local 'rickety-rackety' bridge. Loose him off his leash. Listen carefully: if you hear 'trippety-trap, trippety-trap', and are approached by an ugly little fellow by the name of Mr Troll, then I fear that my theory is correct.
Until then, I will wait to hear from you.
Montmorency
Sir,
I am out of my tin shed for the third time in two days, which is far too much human contact for any self respecting poet to countenance. However, I am mortified by the loss of your noble steed, and erstwhile companion, the now legendary 'Malcolm'. I first heard of his sad demise on the late news, when Trevor McDonald outlined the day's events. I understand that Michael Buerk is trying to contact you with a view to a '999' special: 'Death Donkey'. I believe that some one called Crowe, Australian chap with sandals, sword and an attitude, is lined up to play Mr DaveJ. Several members of 'Swinging Heaven' have lined up to play Malcolm, claiming their ample blessings in the nether regions being qualification enough to play a donkey.
But, be that as it may, I feel responsible for the tribulations you have endured; t'were it not for my blatantly ignoring the strict guidelines on revealing secrets of 'Romany Antics', all this might never have happened. As it happens, I sold a short ditty today, and, believing that your 'reins' were the problem, proceeded to 'Mothercare' and bought you a more suitable set. Alas, they will now not be required.
But, I may be able to help you in the matter of your latest aquisition. He does indeed sound a terrific specimen; no doubt he was sold to you as an 'Afghan Hound', but, his colouring has me worried. Now, I happen to know that dogs,of any breed, are somewhat scarce in Afghanistan and I am beginning to worry about this chap. Tell me, have you noticed that Mrs DaveJ's washing has begun to disappear from the line, or been found half -chewed in a pile of droppings? Have you noticed that your new dog has a small beard, rather like certain well known Elizabethan playwrights? Would I be right in thinking that your new dog is able to climb steep (vertical) slopes with unexpected aplomb? Does he get very edgy when the window cleaner calls and pulls out the old Chamois Leather, and does he then make strange bleating noises that, to an untrained ear, sound something like'cousin'? Mmmm. I have a sneaking feeling that this type of 'dog' will never appear at Crufts-unless in one of the Kebabs sold by some of the more dubious vendors.
In order to prove my theory as to his 'provenance', I need to conduct a test:
Can you take him to your local 'rickety-rackety' bridge. Loose him off his leash. Listen carefully: if you hear 'trippety-trap, trippety-trap', and are approached by an ugly little fellow by the name of Mr Troll, then I fear that my theory is correct.
Until then, I will wait to hear from you.
Montmorency
Mr Dave J,
i am only allowed one trip outside Poetry Corner per day-and this is it. Rather than take pleasure, I have come post-haste to offer you some advice. As you may know, we poets are pretty romantic, some of us actual studied Romany Antics ( a rare branch of philosophy involving dodgy deals , caravans and setting records for uninvited holidays on other people's land). However, one element of the course was 'Horse Whispering'-that ancient and mystical art, only known to swarthy blokes with a trilby hat and Transit pick-up, and, luckily, me.
Now, I do fear that your horse may be less horse than some, but no matter, if he was good enough to carry Val Doonican's mate , Mr Delaney, he'll do.
Now approach Malcolm very slowly, with a nonchalant air-do not approach with a nonchalant Hare, this does not work. This is a seperate strand of Romany Antics called 'Coursing'. Once close enough, casually lean over to Malcolm-left side, Mr Dave J, it MUST be the left hand side! The Romany Antic instructors were adamant about this. Now, when you have his undivided attention, whisper into his ear, either of two secret words which are guaranteed to make horse/donkey/ass/ onager/ whatever, run like a lead cat in a dog-sled team. Im not supposed to tell you, but, I can't abide to see a man in trouble....
The words are
'France' and ' Salami'
This will terrify the beast into warp speed
The phrase 'Hugh Fearnly-Whittingstall' can be added as an extra boost.
I do hope this little tip is of use. If you need any more help, I can be found in the tin shed that is the Poetry Corner
Goodbye
Montmorency
i am only allowed one trip outside Poetry Corner per day-and this is it. Rather than take pleasure, I have come post-haste to offer you some advice. As you may know, we poets are pretty romantic, some of us actual studied Romany Antics ( a rare branch of philosophy involving dodgy deals , caravans and setting records for uninvited holidays on other people's land). However, one element of the course was 'Horse Whispering'-that ancient and mystical art, only known to swarthy blokes with a trilby hat and Transit pick-up, and, luckily, me.
Now, I do fear that your horse may be less horse than some, but no matter, if he was good enough to carry Val Doonican's mate , Mr Delaney, he'll do.
Now approach Malcolm very slowly, with a nonchalant air-do not approach with a nonchalant Hare, this does not work. This is a seperate strand of Romany Antics called 'Coursing'. Once close enough, casually lean over to Malcolm-left side, Mr Dave J, it MUST be the left hand side! The Romany Antic instructors were adamant about this. Now, when you have his undivided attention, whisper into his ear, either of two secret words which are guaranteed to make horse/donkey/ass/ onager/ whatever, run like a lead cat in a dog-sled team. Im not supposed to tell you, but, I can't abide to see a man in trouble....
The words are
'France' and ' Salami'
This will terrify the beast into warp speed
The phrase 'Hugh Fearnly-Whittingstall' can be added as an extra boost.
I do hope this little tip is of use. If you need any more help, I can be found in the tin shed that is the Poetry Corner
Goodbye
Montmorency
Quote by MrsFC
I am terrible!!!!!!
I love garlic, onion and black pepper............... in or on my food.
What do you love in or on your food?
( my worst crime is to have cabbage sandwich with lots of black pepper)
I am venturing out of the tin hut that is the poetry corner, lured only by talk of food; I shall return post- haste (it is a bit scary out here!
)Mrs FC, cabbage sandwiches are not a crime: try VERY lightly boiled red cabbage, mixed with sliced apple, sultanas, and a dash of Cinammon, all put to bed in a plain tortilla wrap and warmed thoroghly. Delicious snack.
Right, I'm off now, I can hear strange noises. It's scary out here with the big people: I'm off back to the poetry corner.....
Quote by Angel ChatWell I do declare!! All my adult life my friends have told me I'm swayed far too much by looks. But I have to say that this time I am completely moved by - putting it bluntly - an actual dog! Lovely wine too!
Miss Angel, thankyou, have no fear
I've tamed the 'grapes of wrath' indeed,
I'll settle by you, pray, take this
A cabernet is what you need...
Montmorency: special dog,
He's ridden Bummel, ridden Boat,
Jerome has made him quite a hero
A terrier of quite some note.
But time is flying, to my pallet
To my bed I must repair,
Goodnight Miss Angel, sleep most sweetly
Go with God , my Lady Fair.
Montmorency
Quote by Angel Chat
walks back in from the shower on very shaky legs and with an extremely red face
Mrs Fc, any chance I could trouble you for that big cushion? Easy has erm.... taken it out of me somewhat ( :twisted: )
flops down on said cushion ignoring MrsFC's attempts at a refusal
Oooh Montmorency.... I thought I heard your lilting lyrics. Come and park yourself next to me and whisper that lovely poetry to me while I recover from my somewhat strenuous shower. Actually, would you mind pouring me a LARGE glass of wine before you park? Thanks sweetie
Miss Angel, thankyou, have no fear
I've tamed the 'grapes of wrath' indeed,
I'll settle by you, pray, take this
A cabernet is what you need...
