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And Now for Something Completely Different...Monty Python Thread v.2


Citizen of the World
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.

Mr IbanezJem, I think you're the silliest person we've ever had on this thread, and so I'm going to ask you to have dinner with me
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.

Mr IbanezJem, I think you're the silliest person we've ever had on this thread, and so I'm going to ask you to have dinner with me

I`m worn out with meeting film stars, attending premieres and giving gala luncheons.
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.

Mr IbanezJem, I think you're the silliest person we've ever had on this thread, and so I'm going to ask you to have dinner with me

I`m worn out with meeting film stars, attending premieres and giving gala luncheons.

"The Wonderful Mr. Ibanez", scene 239, take 2. :popcorn:
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.

Mr IbanezJem, I think you're the silliest person we've ever had on this thread, and so I'm going to ask you to have dinner with me

I`m worn out with meeting film stars, attending premieres and giving gala luncheons.

"The Wonderful Mr. Ibanez", scene 239, take 2. :popcorn:

I want you to know that I've had an idea for the next movie I'm going to produce and I want you boys to write it!
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He's worked his fingers to the bone to make this place what it is, and you come in with your petty feeble quibbling and you grind him into the dirt

Yes, you know, we find that nine out of ten New World Women can't tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead Citizen.

He's not dead. He's probably pining for the fjords.

:16ton: No further questions, m'lud Ibanez.

M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud - ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud, while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.

But of course, the big question that everyone's asking here is, what about those split-crotch panties? :drool:

Drop your panties, blackhawkrush, I cannot wait `til lunchtime!

:tsk: Why don't you like a nice plate of cannelloni, eh?

Oh, you're no fun anymore.

Oh, can't you do better than that? I mean it's so predictable, I've read it a million times. Knock, knock, knock come in, ah Mr. blackhawkrush, you're no fun anymore. I've read it and read it. :zzz:

Well, I`ve been having a lot of mental problems with my breakfasts but this temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in my skull, and once we've removed that I'll be perfectly all right.

his brain is so tiny that the slightest movement can dislodge it IbanezJem ... Oh dear... it's rather like one of those games you play where you have to get the ball into the hole

I knew I'd disturb you...I knew I'd disturb you...it always happens...whenever I've found someone I really think I'm going to be able to get on with...

Having once identified IbanezJem immediate steps must be taken to isolate him from the general public

But in here, we have some very nasty cases indeed...73: :gumby: blackhawkrush: :joker: Citizen: :tongue:

So it was that on a cold November morning, RSM Citizen and Sapper blackhawkrush, two of the most highly trained Kamikaze experts the Scottish Highlands have ever witnessed, left on a mission which was to... oh I can't go on with this drivel.

Mr IbanezJem, I think you're the silliest person we've ever had on this thread, and so I'm going to ask you to have dinner with me

I`m worn out with meeting film stars, attending premieres and giving gala luncheons.

"The Wonderful Mr. Ibanez", scene 239, take 2. :popcorn:

I want you to know that I've had an idea for the next movie I'm going to produce and I want you boys to write it!

Not so fast, IbanezJem. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Inspector Citizen of Scotland Yard, Special Fraud Film Director Squad.
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Stop! Stop this adaptation of 'Puss-in-Boots'! This is the Police Department of the State of Venezuela!

Aren't you going to say 'What's all this then?'?

You don't believe I'm a policeman, do you Citizen? What am I wearing on my head? :joker: A policeman's helmet.
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Stop! Stop this adaptation of 'Puss-in-Boots'! This is the Police Department of the State of Venezuela!

Aren't you going to say 'What's all this then?'?

You don't believe I'm a policeman, do you Citizen? What am I wearing on my head? :joker: A policeman's helmet.

If you say 'mattress' he puts a bucket over his head.
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Stop! Stop this adaptation of 'Puss-in-Boots'! This is the Police Department of the State of Venezuela!

Aren't you going to say 'What's all this then?'?

You don't believe I'm a policeman, do you Citizen? What am I wearing on my head? :joker: A policeman's helmet.

If you say 'mattress' he puts a bucket over his head.

Gaston! A bucket for monsieur.
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Stop! Stop this adaptation of 'Puss-in-Boots'! This is the Police Department of the State of Venezuela!

Aren't you going to say 'What's all this then?'?

You don't believe I'm a policeman, do you Citizen? What am I wearing on my head? :joker: A policeman's helmet.

If you say 'mattress' he puts a bucket over his head.

Gaston! A bucket for monsieur.

The environmental barrier had been removed but we'd hit another: the language barrier. Citizen could not speak English and was therefore unable to give the answers.
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