Citizen of the World

Well, I am a simple soul, I don't understand all that. All I know is he is not the same man as I married. It's not Citizen Riley. It's an extra-terrestrial being! Aggh! Dear Sir, I object very strongly to that last post, and to the next one.

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup. Here at St Pooves, we believe in ART - Active Recuperation Techniques. We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society. I am not a man, you silly billy. Ah, yes you must be Mr Williams. Well, do take a seat. What seems to be the trouble? I've come to give myself up. Looting, pillaging, sacking a major city, and I'd like nine thousand other charges to be taken into consideration, please. You`re f***ing nicked, me old beauty! I'm taking you along to the station. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. A letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible criminal proceedings for Ibanez. If blackhawkrush opens his big mouth again, it`s lampshade time! Simon-Zinc-Trumpet-blackhawkrush, married to a very attractive table lamp. Once I married someone who was beautiful, and young, and gay, and free. Whatever happened to her? :sigh: Er, yes. That was when I was married to the wrong one. I didn't like the colour. This is the one I want to have, so if you could just change the forms round I can take this one back with me now. We are here today to witness the union of two young people in the joyful bond of the holy wedlock. Unfortunately, one of them, my son Citizen, has just fallen to his death. Look! Two people...three people have just fallen past that window. If I were not in the CID, something else I'd like to be. If I were not in the CID, a window cleaner, me! With a rub-a-dub-dub and a scrub-a-dub-dub, and a rub-a-dub all day long... Well, we have with us tonight one of your film, Ibanez, "Rear Window". Now, this is a silent film, so perhaps you could talk us through it. He goes down to the public library, he sees a few signs up, comes home all full of good intentions. He gives blood. He does cold research. All that sort of thing. He puts on women's clothing and hangs around in bars

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup. Here at St Pooves, we believe in ART - Active Recuperation Techniques. We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society. I am not a man, you silly billy. Ah, yes you must be Mr Williams. Well, do take a seat. What seems to be the trouble? I've come to give myself up. Looting, pillaging, sacking a major city, and I'd like nine thousand other charges to be taken into consideration, please. You`re f***ing nicked, me old beauty! I'm taking you along to the station. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. A letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible criminal proceedings for Ibanez. If blackhawkrush opens his big mouth again, it`s lampshade time! Simon-Zinc-Trumpet-blackhawkrush, married to a very attractive table lamp. Once I married someone who was beautiful, and young, and gay, and free. Whatever happened to her? :sigh: Er, yes. That was when I was married to the wrong one. I didn't like the colour. This is the one I want to have, so if you could just change the forms round I can take this one back with me now. We are here today to witness the union of two young people in the joyful bond of the holy wedlock. Unfortunately, one of them, my son Citizen, has just fallen to his death. Look! Two people...three people have just fallen past that window.

Jagger and Bowie - Dancing in the Streets :laughing guy: :laughing guy: :laughing guy: :laughing guy:

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup. Here at St Pooves, we believe in ART - Active Recuperation Techniques. We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society. I am not a man, you silly billy. Ah, yes you must be Mr Williams. Well, do take a seat. What seems to be the trouble? I've come to give myself up. Looting, pillaging, sacking a major city, and I'd like nine thousand other charges to be taken into consideration, please. You`re f***ing nicked, me old beauty! I'm taking you along to the station. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. A letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible criminal proceedings for Ibanez. If blackhawkrush opens his big mouth again, it`s lampshade time! Simon-Zinc-Trumpet-blackhawkrush, married to a very attractive table lamp. Once I married someone who was beautiful, and young, and gay, and free. Whatever happened to her? :sigh: Er, yes. That was when I was married to the wrong one. I didn't like the colour. This is the one I want to have, so if you could just change the forms round I can take this one back with me now.

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup. Here at St Pooves, we believe in ART - Active Recuperation Techniques. We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society. I am not a man, you silly billy. Ah, yes you must be Mr Williams. Well, do take a seat. What seems to be the trouble? I've come to give myself up. Looting, pillaging, sacking a major city, and I'd like nine thousand other charges to be taken into consideration, please. You`re f***ing nicked, me old beauty! I'm taking you along to the station. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. A letter, a hotel registration book, and a series of photographs, which could add up to divorce, premature retirement, and possible criminal proceedings for Ibanez. If blackhawkrush opens his big mouth again, it`s lampshade time! Simon-Zinc-Trumpet-blackhawkrush, married to a very attractive table lamp.

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup. Here at St Pooves, we believe in ART - Active Recuperation Techniques. We try to help the patient understand that however ill he may be, he can still fulfill a useful role in society. I am not a man, you silly billy. Ah, yes you must be Mr Williams. Well, do take a seat. What seems to be the trouble? I've come to give myself up. Looting, pillaging, sacking a major city, and I'd like nine thousand other charges to be taken into consideration, please. You`re f***ing nicked, me old beauty! I'm taking you along to the station. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. I'm charging you with illegal possession of whatever we happen to have down there. Right. (makes plane noise again) Lunar module calling Buzz Aldrin. Come in. Raindrops keep falling on my head... but that doesn't mean that my...

All of us get lost in the darkness Dreamers learn to steer by the stars All of us do time in the gutter Dreamers turn to look at the cars

I'm worn out. I've been shopping for six hours. Well that's a long time for someone who's just had a routine checkup.

this used to be a nice neighbourhood before the old ladies started moving in. Nowadays some of us daren't even go down to the shops.

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw! I don't know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history. Then we'll begin. 'One day Ricky the magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her tumbledown cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly he gabbed her heavy shoulders pulling her down on to the bed and ripping off her... It's a man`s life, taking your clothes off in public. I am not a man you silly billy Well, more than a man, a God, a great God, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sounds wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Ladies and gentlemen of TRF, the incomparably superior human being, Harry (Citizen) Fink. I eat punks like you for breakfast I hope you're going to enjoy me this evening. I'm the special. :hi: Try me with some rice. I like Chinese food, The waiters never are rude, Think of the many things they've done to impress, There's Maoism, Taoism, I Ching and Chess. We Blitish here in Smolensk velly intellested in cliket. The world's loneliest sport, where hardship and philosophy go hand in glove. I'm a little bit sad and lonelyNow my baby's gone away... I'm feeling kinda blue Don't know just what to do I feel a little sad today.

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw! I don't know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history. Then we'll begin. 'One day Ricky the magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her tumbledown cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly he gabbed her heavy shoulders pulling her down on to the bed and ripping off her... It's a man`s life, taking your clothes off in public. I am not a man you silly billy Well, more than a man, a God, a great God, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sounds wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Ladies and gentlemen of TRF, the incomparably superior human being, Harry (Citizen) Fink. I eat punks like you for breakfast I hope you're going to enjoy me this evening. I'm the special. :hi: Try me with some rice. I like Chinese food, The waiters never are rude, Think of the many things they've done to impress, There's Maoism, Taoism, I Ching and Chess. We Blitish here in Smolensk velly intellested in cliket.

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw! I don't know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history. Then we'll begin. 'One day Ricky the magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her tumbledown cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly he gabbed her heavy shoulders pulling her down on to the bed and ripping off her... It's a man`s life, taking your clothes off in public. I am not a man you silly billy Well, more than a man, a God, a great God, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sounds wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. Ladies and gentlemen of TRF, the incomparably superior human being, Harry (Citizen) Fink. I eat punks like you for breakfast

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw! I don't know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history. Then we'll begin. 'One day Ricky the magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her tumbledown cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly he gabbed her heavy shoulders pulling her down on to the bed and ripping off her... It's a man`s life, taking your clothes off in public. I am not a man you silly billy

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw! I don't know how to say this but I got to be perfectly frank. I really and truly believe this story of yours is the greatest story in motion-picture history. Then we'll begin. 'One day Ricky the magic Pixie went to visit Daisy Bumble in her tumbledown cottage. He found her in the bedroom. Roughly he gabbed her heavy shoulders pulling her down on to the bed and ripping off her...

Listen, I gotta fight Your_Lion. That's what that guy Ibanez's all about. I know. I've studied him already. A little brown furry thing with short stumpy legs and great long nose. I don't know what all the fuss is about, he looks pretty tame to start with! Yes. Savage little blighter, isn't he? :finbar: So, it'll...it'll just grow back again, then, will it, Ibanez? Sir, it is self-generating. Because we have harnessed here in this box the very forces of life itself. The very forces that will send Citizen running back to beg forgiveness! But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No, there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. Three acts and a few special torso exercises later, Kevin, as Trigorin, the failed writer of sentimental romances, has lost over thirty-three inches. Wow. What a difference. That Anton Chekhov can certainly write. I didn't write that! Sounds more like Dickens. It sodding was not! It was Shaw!

That's Mr Your_Lion, the pilot, he's very nice really, but make sure he stays clear of battleships.

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy? What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name. It goes with his eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yielding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit. Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer! Citizen seems in good shape to meet the killer once again. Before an audience, some of them will have paid $920,000 million for the privilege of seeing this boy get beaten up. After three fights - and only two convictions - his manager believes that Citizen is now ready to face the giant American, blackhawkrush My name is blackhawkrush. Look at my feelers, redwings and despair. I am the biggest :hockeygoon: you'll ever see. ...ooh, You are so big,......so absolutely huge. Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You. He's beautiful...he's rich...he's got huge - tracts of land ... An island inhabited entirely by ex-international interviewers in pursuit of the impossible dream... Now look here, Mr Your_Lion, It's quite easy for somebody just to come along here claiming...that they have a bit to spare in the botty department. The point is, New World Women need proof. :whipgirl: And that nice blackhawkrush giving his evidence so well - beautiful speaking voice... well after a bit, all I could do was bang my little gavel. Not gill ... cup? Not gillcup!You have been found not gillcup of the charges brought against you and may leave this court a free man. Right. My turn. You were walking out with that very butch Clerk of the Court. :tsk: What is it that attracts someone like Mr. Your_Lion to this way of life? I have with me a consultant psychiatrist. Well ... yes ... um, he's a kind of psychiatrist he's ... he's not a proper psychiatrist. He's not er ... fully qualified ... in, um, quite the sort of way we should want. The man who has been speaking to you is an impostor. He is not in fact Psychiatrist of East Anglia, but a man wanted by the police. The police are anxious to speak to anyone who saw the crime, ladies with large breasts, or just anyone who likes policemen. Never mind that, Your_Lion, this is the big one. I've just had Whitby Police on the phone with twelve hangees. Look, look, I must look a bit of a chump hanging upside down like this.

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy? What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name. It goes with his eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yielding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit. Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer! Citizen seems in good shape to meet the killer once again. Before an audience, some of them will have paid $920,000 million for the privilege of seeing this boy get beaten up. After three fights - and only two convictions - his manager believes that Citizen is now ready to face the giant American, blackhawkrush My name is blackhawkrush. Look at my feelers, redwings and despair. I am the biggest :hockeygoon: you'll ever see. ...ooh, You are so big,......so absolutely huge. Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You. He's beautiful...he's rich...he's got huge - tracts of land ... An island inhabited entirely by ex-international interviewers in pursuit of the impossible dream... Now look here, Mr Your_Lion, It's quite easy for somebody just to come along here claiming...that they have a bit to spare in the botty department. The point is, New World Women need proof. :whipgirl: And that nice blackhawkrush giving his evidence so well - beautiful speaking voice... well after a bit, all I could do was bang my little gavel. Not gill ... cup? Not gillcup!You have been found not gillcup of the charges brought against you and may leave this court a free man. Right. My turn. You were walking out with that very butch Clerk of the Court. :tsk: What is it that attracts someone like Mr. Your_Lion to this way of life? I have with me a consultant psychiatrist. Well ... yes ... um, he's a kind of psychiatrist he's ... he's not a proper psychiatrist. He's not er ... fully qualified ... in, um, quite the sort of way we should want.

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy? What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name. It goes with his eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yielding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit. Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer! Citizen seems in good shape to meet the killer once again. Before an audience, some of them will have paid $920,000 million for the privilege of seeing this boy get beaten up. After three fights - and only two convictions - his manager believes that Citizen is now ready to face the giant American, blackhawkrush My name is blackhawkrush. Look at my feelers, redwings and despair. I am the biggest :hockeygoon: you'll ever see. ...ooh, You are so big,......so absolutely huge. Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy? What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name. It goes with his eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yielding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit. Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer! Citizen seems in good shape to meet the killer once again. Before an audience, some of them will have paid $920,000 million for the privilege of seeing this boy get beaten up. After three fights - and only two convictions - his manager believes that Citizen is now ready to face the giant American, blackhawkrush

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy? What a beautiful name. What a beautiful, beautiful name. It goes with his eyes - it's soft and gentle, warm and yielding, deeply lyrical and yet tender and frightened like a tiny white rabbit. Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!

Hello, I'm Arthur. Arthur Name. Name by name but not by nature. I always say that, don't I blackhawkrushy boy?

The Minister of Technology today met the three Russian leaders to discuss a £4 million airliner deal... None of them went in the cage, or swung on the little wooden trapeze or ate any of the nice millet seed yum, yum. Mash the dirty red scum! Kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts!!! KILL KILL KILL!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Yes, well, of course, this is just the sort blinkered philistine pig ignorance I've come to expect from you non-creative garbage. You sit there on your loathsome, spotty behinds squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss about the struggling artist. You excrement! You lousy hypocritical whining toadies with your lousy colour TV sets and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs and your bleeding administrative handshakes! You wouldn't let me join, would you, you blackballing bastards. Well I wouldn't become an administrator now if you went down on your lousy, stinking, purulent knees and begged me. It's a man's life in the TRF administators and I warn this thread that any recurrence of this sloppy, long haired Citizen plagiarism will be dealt with most severely... :fuckwithadmin: First offence? He`ll probably get away with crucifixion. here in TRF, we have but one punishment for sloppy plagiarism: you must tie me down on a bed and spank me. Er, Mr. Citizen...vis-à-vis...your rump...your posterior...derriere...sit upon. Still, whoahaah, eh? Whoahaah! Eh? Whoahaah! Eh? Whoahaahaha! ...and on my right, putting the case against the Government, is a small patch of brown liquid. I'm sorry squire, I've gobbed on your carpet... Oh, don't worry about that. Look at this - number six - who won the Stanley Cup in 2015, didn't you know that? Oh, my God. Emerson Fittipaldi and Virginia Wade? You must be mad. :crazy: Well, I'm not surprised you didn't get that. It was in fact a trick question. Vancouver Canucks have never won the Stanley Cup. Well, that was right on the whistle. Rangers and Bruins walkin' it there, winnin' easily by twenty-six points to two. :boohoo: Well, I don't agree with that, blackhawkrush, quite frankly the only bit I liked was this bit with me in it now. Look, you crumb bum, I'm the TRF star. Star, star, star. I don't get a million dollars to act out of a trench! It's Citizen's, Your_Lion's and blackhawkrush's job to try and treat the condition of over-acting. :bitchslap: Now, many of the medical profession are skeptical about my work. They point to my record of treatment of athlete's foot sufferers - eighty-four dead, sixty-five severely wounded and twelve missing believed cured.

The Minister of Technology today met the three Russian leaders to discuss a £4 million airliner deal... None of them went in the cage, or swung on the little wooden trapeze or ate any of the nice millet seed yum, yum. Mash the dirty red scum! Kick 'em in the teeth where it hurts!!! KILL KILL KILL!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Yes, well, of course, this is just the sort blinkered philistine pig ignorance I've come to expect from you non-creative garbage. You sit there on your loathsome, spotty behinds squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss about the struggling artist. You excrement! You lousy hypocritical whining toadies with your lousy colour TV sets and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs and your bleeding administrative handshakes! You wouldn't let me join, would you, you blackballing bastards. Well I wouldn't become an administrator now if you went down on your lousy, stinking, purulent knees and begged me. It's a man's life in the TRF administators and I warn this thread that any recurrence of this sloppy, long haired Citizen plagiarism will be dealt with most severely... :fuckwithadmin: First offence? He`ll probably get away with crucifixion. here in TRF, we have but one punishment for sloppy plagiarism: you must tie me down on a bed and spank me. Er, Mr. Citizen...vis-à-vis...your rump...your posterior...derriere...sit upon. Still, whoahaah, eh? Whoahaah! Eh? Whoahaah! Eh? Whoahaahaha! ...and on my right, putting the case against the Government, is a small patch of brown liquid. I'm sorry squire, I've gobbed on your carpet... Oh, don't worry about that. Look at this - number six - who won the Stanley Cup in 2015, didn't you know that? Oh, my God. Emerson Fittipaldi and Virginia Wade? You must be mad. :crazy: Well, I'm not surprised you didn't get that. It was in fact a trick question. Vancouver Canucks have never won the Stanley Cup. Well, that was right on the whistle. Rangers and Bruins walkin' it there, winnin' easily by twenty-six points to two. :boohoo: Well, I don't agree with that, blackhawkrush, quite frankly the only bit I liked was this bit with me in it now.