THE BRITISH THREAD

And this is the 3000th post.

What joy!

Speaking of joy (and goodwill)


Silent night for banned carollers


"......Carol singers have been banned from wards at Torbay Hospital because it is feared they could bring infections in with them.
Torbay Gospelaires male voice choir, which has taken Christmas cheer to patients for 40 years, called it "political correctness gone mad".

Hospital bosses said they could sing in public areas such as the restaurant or the main entrance.

But the Gospelaires say they will not be taking up the offer..........."



http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/devon/6161491.stm


Ho Hum.

It is? How do you know that?

re. Mathos' recent postings:

If it's not clever and it's not funny, what is left? Not informative, and not pleasant to read? I don't think this should be a forum for venting bile.

Agreed, McT.

Glad to hear that you got home safe (after your "bump" post), by the way.

I meant to say that the other day, but was foolishly distracted at the time.

Won't happen again, I promise.

Butrflynet wrote-



Socrates said that except that he used dried bread crusts instead of peanuts.

We have a philosopher in our midst. Welcome.

Nice and peaceful this morning I note Spendi, even Chairman Mao has been subdued apart from the odd incitement from a secure distance.

Quite interesting really, it takes all kinds to vary the planet, some of the occupants are complete and utter bores though, that's a pity really, they live and yet they do not!


Well, I cannot afford to gas on here, as some can. I have been at it since 7.45 this morning, just having a brew now, Lancashire Tea as well, a few more jobs to complete and then I will relax and watch the two Manchester teams have fun. I was going to drive through today, had an invitation to Joe P's private box, but I have passed the same onto one of my son in laws. He's driving to Eccles to pick Joe and a couple of his mates up, I understand they are going to have a meal after the game at a M/C hotel.

Anyhow, after the games over, I want to give the cars a wash and vac, then prepare for a bit of a Chritmas do my wife has arranged for this evening. A few port and brandies will be a nice way to end the day off.

I suppose your sitting in your pub, whatever that may mean, no matter, you enjoy yourself.

Mathos-

You have forgotten to keep us all up to date on your nose picking, your farting and your ear wax removal.

Why do you only include in your list of activities those things which are calculated to present your undoubted superiority in all its raging glory?

If you cant "afford to gas on here" why are you gassing on here?

Only mugs get up before 10 on Saturdays surely.

Why would we be interested in things you are not going to do.

You do know don't you that watching the game is a euphemism for sitting on your fat arse and you often criticise me for that.

I am all agog at you understanding, not your usual forte I think, that some persons we have never heard of are going to have a meal at a hotel. The whole population is going to have a meal today somewhere. Have you contacted Reuters to have them flash this dramatic news around the globe.

You pompous arse. Who bloody cares whether you clean your car or not.

How big's your dong? That's what we want to know.

The last time I had port and brandy I did a smorgieflop into a ditch although I don't suppose I matched her grace.

Nice start to the first half for us Man U lads, 2.0, we might see Ricky Hatton crying in his beer before the afternoons out.

As for your jinks Spendi-pus, have you by any chance ever been to Old Trafford?

I doubt it, you haven't lived until you go to that hallowed ground my old son.

I'm taking it easy on you today Spendi, your not doing much too rattle my cage either, remind me of a gelded dog in a phucking contest actually. Still your a trier, god loves a trier, did you know that?

Your milkman and post man obviously fall into the mug category according to your philosophy, what on earth do you Yorkies do, lying in bed till after 10am. It's disgusting. Mind you, if I lived near them horrible moors and all them daft sheep, I'd probably restructure my life to work permanent nights.

Must say though, I once had a lie in, never forgave myself, I woke up at ten past seven and thought the day was nearly over, quick run on the three S's and out without so much as a toasted crumpet. I'll never do that again though, it gave me a complex for months, I even bought an additional alarm clock and got TIM to phone me at 5.30am.

I shall not feed you, troll (apart from giving you a promotion).

Mathos wrote-



What more does anyone need as evidence that your words, couched in that vulgar style of the jumped-up counter jumpermumper as they are, are not worth enough to buy a frog a jacket at the current exchange rate.


The angle of the sun as its rosy fingered dawn begins another crawl westwards is such that, due to some distortions in the wavelenths of the light at that angle, a special frequency arises which causes those exposed to it to be gradually dumbed down in increments depending how dumb they were in the first place so in your case they would be too small for you to notice them.

That's why I keep the blankets well over my head and snuggle down under the care of the electricity company (I admit to leaving a footprint but it's only a small one; my feet hardly touch), thinking about all you silly sods charging around getting dafter and dafter and scraping the ice off your wheels. 5.30 am is ridiculous. It's trying too hard. Rate busting. Makes the rest of us look bad.

It's odd don't you think that the Britter who militantly gets up earliest is the very same one as the one who is Arsehole Superior. That's evidence for my theory.

The effect continues all day long but to a lesser degree which is why sunshine holidaymakers arrive home in the pitiful state they do.

Ideally one would keep out of the way of the sun's rays. It's a northern European thing really. The powerhouse of the whole shooting match. We had to show the sun-drenched humanity how to open a tin of sardines. They were catching them in the sea and drying them in the sun when we discovered them.

Is that what you want to go back to? Try a month in Thailand starting out with 2 small coins in your pocket...be adventurous. Where there's no YessirNossirs.

Lord Ellpus
This business is well ended.
My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief: your noble son is mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

'A tedious brief scene of young Spendius
And his love Mathos; very tragical mirth.'
Merry and tragical! tedious and brief!
That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow.
How shall we find the concord of this discord?

Yep, I was coming round to taking Bnet's advice, and let all this go from now on, Gus.
There'll be no more response from me in future. Everybody knows how I feel.

Thanks, mate.

Spendi, you are cruising for a bruising!

I don't particularly want to wipe the dregs of A2k up with your thick matted un-shampooed, dense, disentoriated skull, but you are indeed getting extremely close.


One thing I would make clear to you, ten years ago exactly this month, December 1996 until late February 1997, with only my wife as company and neither of us with so much as a single half pence between us, lived in the mountains of northern Thailand, Burma, Laos and the Yemen of southern China, with Hmong, Akka, Pedang, Shan and various other mountain tribes. We ate what we were given and hunted for ourselves.

There were various supplies, which, due to our upbringing, we simply could not force ourselves to eat, and on many days we existed off a little rice, fresh and dried fruit. Our Christmas dinner was a small piece of sponge cake and a packet of crisps between us. It was brilliant. I hope I do it all again before I pop my clogs or whatever.

For you to comment on matters of which you have no knowledge, you are bang out of order, along with a few others (Brits) who make use of this thread to slight from a distance.

Most times, I ignore it, when the day arrives for me to accept their sparring offer, I relish and enjoy every moment. Keep your eye on things, there are going to be some very exciting firweork displays in the offering. I can assure you of that.

I don't bother arguing the toss or sparring with women either, never could, it always seemed a ridiculous exercise. Plus it never occured to me that they had much use in society apart from, assisting in the production of our children, delivering our children, looking after them, taking good care of us, keeping on top of the housework and cooking nice varied meals. Evolution itself gave them small feet so they could stand closer to the kitchen sink and work surfaces.

Actually Aidan was a special case I suppose, we had some good discussion, until she got to being silly.

They can be very vicious also, when I was but a lad of seventeen one dear lady hit me hard on the head with one of those potato mashers, I had to have six stitches put in it. That taught me a hell of a lot, plus never to turn my back to them.


Just in case your thinking I'm rather treating your feeble attempt to wind me up as a load of petty bollocks in my book.

Your right.

Come on you cripple, I've been praising your talents on here, your shaping up like a eunuch in Nellie Bishops bedroom.

If I was in Nellie Bishop's bedroom I would pretend I was a eunuch.

There was an old tata from Totnes
Who was noted for displays of hotness
She stuck in her oar
Stamped her foot on the floor
To tell us all what was her whatness.

Hi Clary. Anything positive coming out of your end?

I know what madness must feel like because I was trying to see whether tonight's episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" was the same as Friday night's, which I enjoyed very much and wanted her indoors to see it too, but it was not identifled in yesterday's Guardian media guide by episode number, it was the one about the kidney donor problem and the orthodox Jew doctor, so I went up to buy a Radio Times, and when I got it back home I coudn't make sense of it when comparing it to last week's just expired one, and it all started to make sense only when I saw on the front that they had sold me one for the period 16-22 December, meaning that they are selling them out of synch and I still need to get the one for this week. The good new seems to be that the episode which will be screened tonight is the one I wanted her to see and I recommend it to everyone who is interested in Mickey Mantle, Jewish dietary law and big vaginas.

Mac quotes-



One supposes that Leonardo would have considered jetting off to the US having always wanted to see The Algonquin, thrashing up and down motorways, stopping off at rural inns for delicious meals, touring India, meeting other A2kers for lunch, enjoying entertainment about Jewish dietary laws and big vaginas and whinging about the Radio Times etc to constitute some sort of over abundance. Even I do.

It would logically follow that Mac is a force all on his own for force if the gent he quotes is anything to go by and if he isn't the quote becomes gratuitous, tacky and self-flattering.

Of course Mac is against force being used to maintain the lifestyle so he has it both ways. He's good and bad at the same time.

More good than bad having had an excellent meal recently at the fox and hounds

of which the McT party paid an excessive majority. Danke.

I might well say the same had I had a free lunch.

The pocket is a significant philosophical principle after all.

I was under the impression you received meals on wheels seven days a bloody week at the taxpayers expense.


I can't see you missing a free-bee.


Your pocket is no doubt more philosophical in its principle of snatch, fold and zip.


The thoughts of a camels arse in a sandstorm come to mind!