What are some typical British items... read on I need help

Walt, nobody could slate Bolton, its already been done! Even the Motorway is cobbled for two miles through it to show the gobbins were the exit for home is.

I REALLY HATE IT WHEN MEN CALL ME THICK!

(smorgs shouting)

...and no kiss!

Like I said, I love it when you talk dirty. xx

And you didn't answer the question, cute arse, did you live on Halliwell Road?

I'm cute all over...

I'm Liverpool born, Manchester bred...

The perfect combination - a sexy woman who can hotwire your car!

x

Bloody hell a scouser! Did you go to Gronant for your holidays?

There were some good nights and days there on the sand hills with the gorgeous little sarni chompers!

Yeah Mathos. But that's long gone. You've been tamed since then. It's just a nostalgia staring into unfocussed space jag now while you wash up and dust the furniture like you said.

I'm still at the crease smacking the long-hops back over the bowler's head for six.

Like Graham Gooch said to Mike Getting when the Warne ball clipped the top of his off stump- "It was a cheese roll Mike. I wouldn't have let it bounce."

Ah, Cricket

Men dressed in white...

rubbing the ball on their groin...

the thwack of willow on leather...

YAWN...

going to work now


x

I can't understand people who don't love cricket and particularly 5 day test-matches.

The game is such a beautifully constructed metaphor for life and the process of evolution.

The hero, the batsman, is alone at the crease and he's being conspired against with every trick known to man which is why the rules are so elaborate. Violence, guile, cheating, courage, skill, concentration, fitness, elegance, luck, danger, colour, subtlety, stoicism, cool, committment, joy, despair, boredom, love, hate, simplicity, complexity, camaraderie, enmity, personality, politics, more, much more; all life spread out on your big screen as you lounge on the couch reading a good book and listening to the most expert commentary team, from which ladies are banned, you will ever hear about anything.

Young men brought up in such an ambience are not the pushovers some ladies prefer to deal with which is presumably why such ladies are negative about it, as are their lickspittles and lackeys who make cheap jibes about the player's trousers and about the pointlessness, as if anything has any point, and who assist them in their dirty work and help in the ruination of youth.

But I know ladies who love the game as much as I do. Sport is the cleanest thing in life.

Roll on The Ashes series. Put the clock back 12 hours.

Where's the sex that can hold a candle to trapping Sachin lbw or smacking Shane Warne through the pavillion picture window?

And all those lovely ice baths.

It's incredible. It's as good as Rembrandt or Mozart to those who are open to the "other" rather than the self.

I wasn't ridiculing the game, spendi!

Please don't take it personally, it's just my opinion...

There are things that I like that other people may find boring - like extreme cross-stitch :wink:

Perhaps if I understood the rules?

It isn't a personality or gender flaw not to like cricket!

I respect the fact that you think it is a beautiful game...

But to say it is better than sex? Come on, spendi...

How about combining the two?

x

Yep, cricket is a good game. I can't wait until the ashes.

Sex and cricket sounds very interesting. Would it involve just using the one ball, though?

I just thought it would be a good way of utilising the 'down time' :wink:

I'm scared of what spends is going to say now...

He will think it was sacriligious to mention sex and cricket in the same breath.

...I played hockey at Convent on open playing fields, always thought it was a popular game, well played, as lots of men used to come and park up to watch our games - wasn't until I was older that I realised that it was more to do with the navy blue knickers and airtex blouses, no matter what the weather!

We even had indoor and outdoor shoes! And science aprons (with acid burns in). One of my friend's Dad was in a wheel-chair, and he wasn't allowed in the sports hall, due to his wheels marking the parquet flooring!

Sorry... bit of nostalgia trip there...

x

smorgsy wrote-



Well- they are of course.

The game began with a wicket gate behind which the maidens were kept and who only could be won by visiting teams who defeated their brothers and fathers in storming it. A form of ritualised exogamy.

Hence-to bowl a maiden over. Leg, middle and off stump. Bails being knocked off. The crease. A no-ball. The seam on the ball (cherry). First slip, second slip, third slip, fly slip, gully, third man, point, silly point, silly mid on and silly mid off, long leg, fine leg, cover, extra cover, mid on, mid off, long on, long off (know what I mean?) , deep mid wicket, forward short leg, short square leg, leg slip, leg gully, long stop, stumper and two (h)umpires to maintain decorum. Maximum score of 6 for clearing the boundary limit.

There's googlies, jaffas, fizzers, full tosses, bouncers, beamers, flippers, sliders, doosras, yorkers, top spinners, inswingers, outswingers, skidders for bowlers and for batsmen there's fine nicks, glances, cuts, drives, hooks, (no eyes), ignorant cowswipes, 'oiks, pulls, quick singles, easy twos, all run fours and smashes. And I haven't consulted a book yet.

The game is suffused with sexual imagery.

There's sticky wickets (pitches), featherbeds, square and slow turners, cracks opening the longer the game goes on, rearing off a length, uneven bounce.

What more do you need? Sex has no sex in it compared to cricket.

Being "Out" is a metaphor for getting married.

Struth, spends!

Ye be a right cricket encylopedia!

I'll show a lot more interest in cricket in the future!

Why did no-one tell me it was about nooks, I'll be glued now!

x

It was stolen off you by swots and wallflowers.

It's a pleasure to give it back to you.

How long do you think a batsman has from an angry Brett Lee 94 mph-er ball bouncing to make up his mind what to do with it assuming he's good enough to have a try and considering that it might bounce either side of a crazy paving crack and it's swerving in the air from the polishing and it might or might not land on the seam or part of it and the 80,000 drunken Aussie crowd have timed the crescendo of their encouraging roar to coincide with that bounce. It is necessary to tire Mr Lee out in the shortest possible time.

And that's superficial.

What a load of bloody bollocks! Your not on your ID thread now Spendi with them thick Yanks, filling their heads with crap is one thing, trying it out with Brits is a no go you pontificating couch potato.


All your doing matey is breaking down terminology to suit your rantings and ravings of irrelevant and insignificant bull-**** in an attempt to influence the beautiful little darlings who consider the possibility of having discussion with an intellectual when your name pops up.


Jesus F Christ, you must be sat their like a ducking Cheshire Cat who just had the cream, grinning from ear to ear.

Note well Yorkshireman,

'You can't fool all of the people, all of the time'

It goes hand in hand with your breeding;-

Yorkshire born
Yorkshire bred
Strong in th'arm
Thick in th'ead

You never cease to bloody amaze me at how you have the guile to talk so much **** in such a condescending manner of oblivion.

Had a hard day on the housework have we?

Are your nerves frazzled?

Don't worry -it will all need doing again tomorrow. It's fiendish that dust. It gets everywhere. I bet you didn't do the tops of the doors. I bet there's a thick layer of sticky shite up there where nobody can see. Ever look behind the cooker?

The little darling is up and running on three cylinders now Spendi, she'll be ok by Wednesday.


I gave it all the once over last night. Took her out today with me, all wrapped up on the back seat, flask of hot tea, and one with hot lemons and honey. She didn't fancy lunch (you don't when your not so good) so I pulled in a KFC drive in and got myself a few pieces of that expensive chicken in magic breadcrumbs and nibbled whilst I drove along, singing to her and telling her what a lucky girl she is!

The ancients used to say that love is a form of madness.

You do realise don't you that meat contains substances derived from the well being of the animal from which it came.

KFC chicken must contain plenty of the "highly pissed off" hormone. No wonder you are grouchy.

Cluck,cluck!