THE BRITISH THREAD

smorgy You are soooooo.........responsive!

That's 'cos I'm a Civil Servant!

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Don't civil servants have to be.....civil?

I have been thinking of introducing a little balance into this British thread by suggesting, just in case some threaders might be getting a little carried away with themselves, what a few of Ms smorgs' disadvantages might be in view of the very small amount of information we have about her.

Mac's report on his pilgrimage, let us us hope it wasn't on hands and knees, did fail, and noticeably so, to provide an even brief laudatory description of her general appearence.

She may well, for example, have a high-pitched squeaky voice profile capable of 110 decibels which is a bit trying when you have flooded the bedroom in attempting to fix up her plumbing for her and demonstrate your prowess in the technical departments of domesticity after the three week romantic period has faded and you haven't got over last night's 8 pinter.

She may well have a 64 inch hip measurement , be knock-kneed, and like crude, belligerent fighting when she's pissed.

And she is a civil servant, the female species of which I do have some experience of. They are not to be trifled with I can tell you. They tend to have high expectations and woe betide any man who falls short of what they are and I think they tend towards the luxury-langour end of the self-indulgence spectrum.

A combination of just those few characteristics from a lengthy list of possibilities cannot be ruled out at this stage and should give any eager supplicant pause for thought.

She may well have been studying Fat Slags in VIZ, for light relief, and thought of having a laugh by trying out the genre on some innocents on the web.

Of course all, or any of these disadvantages, which I admit are only remote possibilities, may well be counterbalanced by other factors, a list of which is probably, on all known evidence, considerably shorter than the length of the list of possible disadvantages although not to be underestimated on that account.

A fat slag?

Why I can only aspire to such lofty heights!

Everyone here knows what I look like - albeit shots above the waist - I don't suddenly flare out!

McT is too much of a gentleman to post such things:

I'm as common as muck, and proud of it. I am a Civil Servant who deals in benefits - I have a strong genetic link to at least half of the claimants (oops, sorry - customers) I serve.

I've got a very sexy voice, not at all high or screechy, with a Mancunian accent (but not too strong, and with a hint of Liverpudlian). So if it's phone sex you're after, sussy, you could do no worse than phone smorgs, and given my voice... you would still get low user discount.

I'm kind, smiley, calm, patient, cheeky, sarcastic (but never cruel), argumentative, skint, giggly and friendly.

Favourite colour - Pink
Favourite smell - my daughter's hair
Favourite person - that would be telling
Favourite telly - Bo' America, Extras, University Challenge, nature thingys
Favourite Book(s) - To Kill a Mocking Bird/Accidental Tourist
favourite film - Night of the Hunter



You have already described me perfectly - a pink chubby.

Now...

What do YOU look and sound like?

What are your favourite things?

Pink chubbies.

All the rest is evened out in a general fog of futility which I force myself to find interesting for reasons of self-preservation which is, as you know, our most powerful instinct.

If i were you smorgsi, I would find the Yorkshire pillock and shove the gas man's wrench right up his arse.


I wasn't asking you about the accusation I deemed to be a slur on my character either, you thick country bumpkin of an oaf. So in future keep your rhetorical meanderings shoved up your arse were they belong, or I might just introduce your front teeth to your colon! It is possible I have mentioned your birth prior to this posting, nevertheless, I will reiterate without fear of mental provocation or in comparison to your erratic conduct ( you like to have a go at the women, don't you) lack of passion and egotistical spewing of tripe and twaddle.

No doubt when he was born, the midwife having great difficulty in determining his arse from his face, smacked his face and sat him on it, as a result he has been talking through his arse ever since.


As for the hypochondriac cockney sparrow with his ideas on superiority, well cockney boy's never cease to fall in line for a good tanking. I don't know if your piles are playing you up my old son, or if it's quite simply the noises you make are akin to a termagant with menstrual problems, either way you amuse me.

Cockney's have always been a noisy and turbulent breed of people, possibly the clanging of them bells at birth, having an adverse effect on the grey matter. Mostly though, they see the reaper appearing on the horizon when he can't get any more milk north of Watford its back to the home front.

I'm not going to insult you with name calling either Shirley, but you do need to realise, that being born with the disadvantage of southern traits does not mean we can't make something out of you. So don't give up. The criterion for harmonisation and good conduct in life will never be obtained from those quarters of our little acre which are awash with the descendants of gin swigging, port robbing subordinates.

However, we do attempt to preserve due control of them by rewarding merit with gongs and bling, neither turning to the path of total destruction or virtue. You can't really get virtue down south. In order to render the breed subject to union with us lads Oop North, we can only suggest great washings and possible purification in the waters of the Thames, which appears well soiled with the current rate of remedial work on the general inhabitants of the metropolis.

Up here we learn that perseverance is the answer to obtaining perfection. Basically from repeated effort and repeated effort alone, the rude material receives its fine polish;- nothing short of indefatigable exertion will induce the habits of northern virtue, mind enlightenment and soul purification are specialities you will never know.

Now I don't want you coming on all headachy and tantrum throwing like you do when that Yorkshire gobbin has a go at you. I want you to stand up in your corner of Wimbledon Common. take a few deep breaths and rescue ignorance from your pits of despair, thereby establishing happiness in the paths of virtue and science even!

How are your piles by the way?

Had you something to say Steve?

Talking of gasmen - he's left a blowtorch (if only we were having creme brulee for afters) and a gauge thing with water in a u-shaped clear tube???

Are they worth flogging on ebay?

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Jolly well done, Mathos. You see? A bit of venting and I bet you feel SO much better.

You have taken your first step.

One day, you will have no reason to be jealous of us down South....and quite rightly so.

Keep up the good work, there's a good chap.

Your aces you are mate!


Pity about your birthplace!

Mathos, my grandmother (maternal) came from Manchester, my grandfather came from Barnsley.... my mother comes from New Zealand,
My other grandmother (paternal) came from Greenwitch, my other grandfather came from North Wales and my dad was born in London.

Going back another generation, there is a Scottish and Irish connection.

I am therefore a true Brit, being a complete mongrel, and proud of it.

No wonder you are so mixed up

Look who's talking!

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(and we're off!)

Go Ellpus!

(even I'm surprised you're not sulking over THAT post)

But if you de-construct it - really it's just a homo-erotic love lilt.

GROUP HUG EVERYONE

(stop crushing my breasts spendy)

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I am starting to have serious doubts abt lordy

You wait 'til you meet my husband!

ooooooooooooooh threesomes!!!!

I bet he's all man Prince...

I really like men, they're so 'touchy'

much more so than any woman I have ever known, nosey, gossipy, sensitive creatures, they need very careful 'handling'

:wink:

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What are you doing on, Prince?

Have you finished banking?

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