Your_Lion

I'm going to sit this one out. I just can't do it :scared:

I love Thin Lizzy, but Close to the Edge is one of my all-time favourite albums. It's perfect.

Judas Priest - Breaking the Law :haz: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzIz8utU1xU And Robert Fripp sings the chorus... while getting hit with a truncheon :lol:

Happy Birthday Blue J, my friend http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJ7397har_o Hope you have a great day :cheers:

Yeah, this used to be a nice neighborhood before the old ladies started moving in. :eyeroll: These historic pictures of Queen Victoria, taken in 1880 at Osborne show the Queen with Gladstone. This unique film provides a rare glimpse into the private world of a woman who ruled half the earth. Oh, we've just heard she's switched over. She's watching the 'News at Ten'. :blah: She's a good Sheila, Bruce, and not at all stuck up. :cool:

And now let's take a look at the state of play in the detective sketch... :fuckwithadmin: Any clues, eh? Oh, we don't half talk posh, don't we? I suppose you say 'ehnvelope' and 'larngerie' and 'sarndwiches on the settee'! Well this is a murder investigation, young man, and murder is a very serious business. And that's the most expensive machine in the whole hospital! And this has gone a long way in eliminating the danger of unqualified impostors. :drool: :drool: :drool: Good evening. Tonight we're going to take a hard, tough, abrasive look at camel spotting. Hello. :hi: Which is rather unfortunate as we're all here in London. :doh: Now, boys, I want you to know that I think you are the best three posters in TRF today. :yes: She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins. All we've eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauted lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin sorbet. We sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things! Oh, Meow! Be careful! You know what he's like after a few visits to SOCN. :bang bang: It gets me here. I can't give you any excuses for it - there are no excuses. I've been meaning to spend more time in Video Vertigo recently, but I haven't been too well. How are we today? Expecting any postal orders this week? :| Well, can you write me a cheque then, please? All right. Cut the haggling. Say you open at one shekel. I start at two thousand. We close about eighteen hundred. I will not buy this tobacconist's, it is scratched. :smoke: You want to complain? ... look at these shoes ... I've only had them three weeks and the heels are worn right through. If you complain nothing happens ... you might just as well not bother. A tobacconist who just happens to be buying a book on teeth? What made you undertake so enormous a tusk... :unsure: ... task? Oh, well you see we love blancmanges. My wife makes them. Do you want peanut butter or sandwich spread for your tea? :unsure: How about the lamelllibranch? Never at the end of the week, sir. Always get it fresh first thing on Monday.

Happy Birthday EagleMoon Hope you have a great day :cheers:

And now let's take a look at the state of play in the detective sketch... :fuckwithadmin: Any clues, eh? Oh, we don't half talk posh, don't we? I suppose you say 'ehnvelope' and 'larngerie' and 'sarndwiches on the settee'! Well this is a murder investigation, young man, and murder is a very serious business. And that's the most expensive machine in the whole hospital! And this has gone a long way in eliminating the danger of unqualified impostors. :drool: :drool: :drool: Good evening. Tonight we're going to take a hard, tough, abrasive look at camel spotting. Hello. :hi: Which is rather unfortunate as we're all here in London. :doh: Now, boys, I want you to know that I think you are the best three posters in TRF today. :yes: She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins. All we've eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauted lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin sorbet. We sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things! Oh, Meow! Be careful! You know what he's like after a few visits to SOCN. :bang bang: It gets me here. I can't give you any excuses for it - there are no excuses. I've been meaning to spend more time in Video Vertigo recently, but I haven't been too well. How are we today? Expecting any postal orders this week? :| Well, can you write me a cheque then, please? All right. Cut the haggling. Say you open at one shekel. I start at two thousand. We close about eighteen hundred. I will not buy this tobacconist's, it is scratched. :smoke: You want to complain? ... look at these shoes ... I've only had them three weeks and the heels are worn right through. If you complain nothing happens ... you might just as well not bother. A tobacconist who just happens to be buying a book on teeth? What made you undertake so enormous a tusk... :unsure: ... task?

And now let's take a look at the state of play in the detective sketch... :fuckwithadmin: Any clues, eh? Oh, we don't half talk posh, don't we? I suppose you say 'ehnvelope' and 'larngerie' and 'sarndwiches on the settee'! Well this is a murder investigation, young man, and murder is a very serious business. And that's the most expensive machine in the whole hospital! And this has gone a long way in eliminating the danger of unqualified impostors. :drool: :drool: :drool: Good evening. Tonight we're going to take a hard, tough, abrasive look at camel spotting. Hello. :hi: Which is rather unfortunate as we're all here in London. :doh: Now, boys, I want you to know that I think you are the best three posters in TRF today. :yes: She's bloody dying and all you bring us is lupins. All we've eaten mate for the last four bleeding weeks is lupin soup, roast lupin, steamed lupin, braised lupin in lupin sauce, lupin in the basket with sauted lupins, lupin meringue pie, lupin sorbet. We sit on lupins, we sleep in lupins, we feed the cat on lupins, we burn lupins, we even wear the bloody things! Oh, Meow! Be careful! You know what he's like after a few visits to SOCN. :bang bang: It gets me here. I can't give you any excuses for it - there are no excuses. I've been meaning to spend more time in Video Vertigo recently, but I haven't been too well. How are we today? Expecting any postal orders this week? :| Well, can you write me a cheque then, please? All right. Cut the haggling. Say you open at one shekel. I start at two thousand. We close about eighteen hundred. I will not buy this tobacconist's, it is scratched. :smoke: You want to complain? ... look at these shoes ... I've only had them three weeks and the heels are worn right through. If you complain nothing happens ... you might just as well not bother.

And now let's take a look at the state of play in the detective sketch... :fuckwithadmin: Any clues, eh? Oh, we don't half talk posh, don't we? I suppose you say 'ehnvelope' and 'larngerie' and 'sarndwiches on the settee'! Well this is a murder investigation, young man, and murder is a very serious business.

Well when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to us. :codger: You told these people to eat my juniper berries. You break my bloody foot. You break my vow of silence, and then you try and clean up on my juniper bushes! Only you said we must have a drink together sometime, so I thought I'd take you up on it as the film society meeting was cancelled this evening. And what is the name of your ravishing wife? Brooky, my flat mate - and nothing else, I'd like to emph asize that. :coy: All right Robert, all right, I've got a tongue in my head - I'll do 'talkin'. Aye... I like yer fancy suit. Is that what they're wearing up in Chicago now? It's more a sort of idealized version of the complete Bonchester Bridge Man. :codger: I do not look odd like this - it's that lot that looks odd. It's bleeding weird having half the Tudor nobility lugging around on motorized bicycles. Well, we've always been extremely interested in modern drama...we were of course the first Townswomen's Guild to perform 'Camp on Blood Island.' :wub: And the bezan shall be huge and black, and the eyes thereof red with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall ride forth on a three-headed serpent, and throughout the lands, there'll be a great rubbing of parts. Roger Moore will drop in for lunch, bringing Tony Curtis with him. :cool: :cool: It is incredible, isn't it, that in these days when man can walk on the moon and work out the most complicated hire purchase agreements, I still get these terrible headaches. Well... I seem to have wandered a bit, but still, no harm done. Jolly good luck. No, no, no. Please do carry on because that is in fact why we wanted you on TRF. :) Before that of course I was a Yeti Spotter. I his, how you say...succ...sussor...I'm his successor, Mr. Atkinson. :hi: Get out, Mr LibrarianHawkrush, seeing as you're not a gorilla, but only dressed up as one, trying to deceive us in order to further your career Yes, there's no place for sentiment in big business. I wish I had said that. :doh:

I only saw them the once, on the Clockwork Angels tour. My main memories: The place going totally nuts after Alex finished his Analog Kid solo The string section (mainly the Cellist) rocking out with Alex during YYZ Geddy looking amused at the volume we were all singing The Spirit of Radio back at him but most of all Making eye-contact with Alex during the 2112 "Heys"

Well when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to us. :codger: You told these people to eat my juniper berries. You break my bloody foot. You break my vow of silence, and then you try and clean up on my juniper bushes! Only you said we must have a drink together sometime, so I thought I'd take you up on it as the film society meeting was cancelled this evening. And what is the name of your ravishing wife? Brooky, my flat mate - and nothing else, I'd like to emph asize that. :coy: All right Robert, all right, I've got a tongue in my head - I'll do 'talkin'. Aye... I like yer fancy suit. Is that what they're wearing up in Chicago now? It's more a sort of idealized version of the complete Bonchester Bridge Man. :codger: I do not look odd like this - it's that lot that looks odd. It's bleeding weird having half the Tudor nobility lugging around on motorized bicycles. Well, we've always been extremely interested in modern drama...we were of course the first Townswomen's Guild to perform 'Camp on Blood Island.' :wub: And the bezan shall be huge and black, and the eyes thereof red with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall ride forth on a three-headed serpent, and throughout the lands, there'll be a great rubbing of parts. Roger Moore will drop in for lunch, bringing Tony Curtis with him. :cool: :cool: It is incredible, isn't it, that in these days when man can walk on the moon and work out the most complicated hire purchase agreements, I still get these terrible headaches. Well... I seem to have wandered a bit, but still, no harm done. Jolly good luck. No, no, no. Please do carry on because that is in fact why we wanted you on TRF. :) Before that of course I was a Yeti Spotter. I his, how you say...succ...sussor...I'm his successor, Mr. Atkinson. :hi: Get out, Mr LibrarianHawkrush, seeing as you're not a gorilla, but only dressed up as one, trying to deceive us in order to further your career

Well when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to us. :codger: You told these people to eat my juniper berries. You break my bloody foot. You break my vow of silence, and then you try and clean up on my juniper bushes! Only you said we must have a drink together sometime, so I thought I'd take you up on it as the film society meeting was cancelled this evening.

Well when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpolin, but it was a house to us. :codger:

Also, at one point you can see a pair of buttocks and there's another bit where I'll swear you can see everything. :blush: Inter...course... pert...pert thighs...botty, botty botty...erogenous...zone...concubine...erogenous zone! Loose woman...erogenous zone. :drool: There's a proper psychiatrist to see you, Dr. Your_Lion. :smash: Oh, come come, you must try to rest! Doctor Piglet, Doctor Winston, practice your art. Well, we'll be taking you back there as soon as there are new developments. :fuckinputer: When you took over this account Robert, Conquistador was a brand leader. Here you introduced your first campaign, 'Conquistador Coffee brings a new meaning to the word vomit'. Oh, I hadn't fully divined your attitude towards the :spitwater: You see, I mainly design slaughter houses. Ugh! Dreadful tin things. Little bits of tin consolidated although biscuits sank after an early gain and stools remained anonymous. Armpits rallied well after a poor start. Nipples rose dramatically during the morning but had declined by mid-afternoon, while teeth clenched and buttocks remained firm. The Champ must try and keep his head on. The Killer's kicked him in the groin and he's bitten half his left buttock off and the referee's stepped in with a warning there. You are a naughty, naughty, vicious little boy. :poke: Oh, look at that! Good God! Get me the Supreme Commander Land, Sea and Air Forces, immediately! And what about the bombs? :o Good Lord, they are expensive. I can only give you name, rank, and why did the chicken cross the road? Come on, Stapleton. Remember what happened to Nigel... :rose: :LMAO: :rose: Nigel's shot himself: Nigel is third in this fine and most exciting Upperclass Twit of the Year Show I've ever seen. Covered in glory, Your_Lion rode home to Yorkshire to see his beloved wife, but all was not well. You divorced her and married me. :whipgirl: Well, if it's not a personal question, are you a virgin? I'd like to talk to you tonight about the place of the nude in my bed ... um ... in the history of my bed ... of art, of art, I'm sorry. The place of the nude in the history of tart... call-girl... I'm sorry. I'll start again... Bum ... oh what a giveaway.

One of my favourite bands. I have all their albums and live dvds. I first discovered them when Roine Stolt toured with Steve Hackett's band. Roine is an amazing player. I immediately checked out both Flower Kings and Transatlantic. They're definitely worth checking out :yes:

Also, at one point you can see a pair of buttocks and there's another bit where I'll swear you can see everything. :blush: Inter...course... pert...pert thighs...botty, botty botty...erogenous...zone...concubine...erogenous zone! Loose woman...erogenous zone. :drool: There's a proper psychiatrist to see you, Dr. Your_Lion. :smash: Oh, come come, you must try to rest! Doctor Piglet, Doctor Winston, practice your art. Well, we'll be taking you back there as soon as there are new developments. :fuckinputer: When you took over this account Robert, Conquistador was a brand leader. Here you introduced your first campaign, 'Conquistador Coffee brings a new meaning to the word vomit'. Oh, I hadn't fully divined your attitude towards the :spitwater: You see, I mainly design slaughter houses. Ugh! Dreadful tin things. Little bits of tin consolidated although biscuits sank after an early gain and stools remained anonymous. Armpits rallied well after a poor start. Nipples rose dramatically during the morning but had declined by mid-afternoon, while teeth clenched and buttocks remained firm. The Champ must try and keep his head on. The Killer's kicked him in the groin and he's bitten half his left buttock off and the referee's stepped in with a warning there. You are a naughty, naughty, vicious little boy. :poke: Oh, look at that! Good God! Get me the Supreme Commander Land, Sea and Air Forces, immediately! And what about the bombs? :o Good Lord, they are expensive. I can only give you name, rank, and why did the chicken cross the road? Come on, Stapleton. Remember what happened to Nigel... :rose: :LMAO: :rose: Nigel's shot himself: Nigel is third in this fine and most exciting Upperclass Twit of the Year Show I've ever seen.

Also, at one point you can see a pair of buttocks and there's another bit where I'll swear you can see everything. :blush: Inter...course... pert...pert thighs...botty, botty botty...erogenous...zone...concubine...erogenous zone! Loose woman...erogenous zone. :drool: There's a proper psychiatrist to see you, Dr. Your_Lion. :smash: Oh, come come, you must try to rest! Doctor Piglet, Doctor Winston, practice your art. Well, we'll be taking you back there as soon as there are new developments. :fuckinputer: When you took over this account Robert, Conquistador was a brand leader. Here you introduced your first campaign, 'Conquistador Coffee brings a new meaning to the word vomit'. Oh, I hadn't fully divined your attitude towards the :spitwater: You see, I mainly design slaughter houses. Ugh! Dreadful tin things. Little bits of tin consolidated although biscuits sank after an early gain and stools remained anonymous. Armpits rallied well after a poor start. Nipples rose dramatically during the morning but had declined by mid-afternoon, while teeth clenched and buttocks remained firm.

Also, at one point you can see a pair of buttocks and there's another bit where I'll swear you can see everything. :blush: Inter...course... pert...pert thighs...botty, botty botty...erogenous...zone...concubine...erogenous zone! Loose woman...erogenous zone. :drool:

Awww, I opened this thread hoping to see pictures :(

:ranton: Anyone found trivializing this war will face the supreme penalty that military law can provide. :rantoff: Well, they've spent a good night in there last night in preparation for the final assault today. The leader of the expedition is twenty-nine-year-old Bert Tagg - a local headmaster and mother of three. It's Ghastly Spotty Cross-Eyed's :wacko: birthday and she's having a disemboweling party for a few friends. No. He died. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto exploding bomb, and was killed in shooting accident. Nasty business. I his susscussor... how you say... succsussor. Dear Sir, I am writing to complain about that post about people failing out of a high building. I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once.... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrgghhh Popular as this jest has always been, however, it cannot compare with the ribald connotations associated with the dispatch of an edible missile. First... first the simple straightforward "offensive deposit." :eyeroll: You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks. You see! There ought to be a safety catch on it, I mean ... ohhhh! I mean, what if this fell into the wrong hands? Well I mean, blimey, I mean if it was a big war somebody could be hurt. :scared: The Reverend Charlie `Drooper' Hyper-Squawk Smith. the cleft-palated RAF chaplain, who single-handed shot down over five hundred German chaplains. This is the story of the men who flew with him ... it really is! Oh, 'an aeroplane'. Oh, I say, we are grand, aren't we? 'Oh, oh, no more buttered scones for me, mater. I'm off to play the grand piano'. 'Pardon me while I fly my aeroplane. It's an airship...an airship...d'you hear!? :bitchslap: Hold on then... Wingco! Bend an ear to the Squadron Leader's banter for a sec, would you? Uh, d-- don't-- don't worry about hi-- him, sir. He's de-- he's de-- He's de-- de-- de-- he's deaf and m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- mad, sir. Monsieur Necker? :tongue: The man who introduced so many valuable reforms and who proved so popular despite his opposition to Mirabeau's policy of issuing 'assignats'? Pretty strong meat there from Longueur who is saying, of course, that ultimately materialism, in this case the Webb's Wonder lettuce, must destroy us all. Well, apparently the whole structure of world peace may be threatened unless we immediately...get out of here! :outtahere: Okay Captain, you detail three men, start digging and load them up with cutlery, and then we'll have a rota. We'll have two hours digging, two hours vaulting and then two hours sleeping, okay? Hold it. Hold it. Look, loves ... can anyone not involved in this scene, please leave the set. Now! Come on please. Anyone not concerned in this scene, the canteen's open upstairs. Not so fast, IbanezJem! Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Inspector Baboon of Scotland Yard's Special Fraud Film Director Squad, Jungle Division. I'm arresting you for impersonating Signor Michelangelo Antonioni, an Italian film director who co-scripts all his own films, largely jettisoning narrative in favour of vague incident and relentless character study .

:ranton: Anyone found trivializing this war will face the supreme penalty that military law can provide. :rantoff: Well, they've spent a good night in there last night in preparation for the final assault today. The leader of the expedition is twenty-nine-year-old Bert Tagg - a local headmaster and mother of three. It's Ghastly Spotty Cross-Eyed's :wacko: birthday and she's having a disemboweling party for a few friends. No. He died. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto exploding bomb, and was killed in shooting accident. Nasty business. I his susscussor... how you say... succsussor. Dear Sir, I am writing to complain about that post about people failing out of a high building. I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once.... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrgghhh Popular as this jest has always been, however, it cannot compare with the ribald connotations associated with the dispatch of an edible missile. First... first the simple straightforward "offensive deposit." :eyeroll: You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks. You see! There ought to be a safety catch on it, I mean ... ohhhh! I mean, what if this fell into the wrong hands? Well I mean, blimey, I mean if it was a big war somebody could be hurt. :scared: The Reverend Charlie `Drooper' Hyper-Squawk Smith. the cleft-palated RAF chaplain, who single-handed shot down over five hundred German chaplains. This is the story of the men who flew with him ... it really is! Oh, 'an aeroplane'. Oh, I say, we are grand, aren't we? 'Oh, oh, no more buttered scones for me, mater. I'm off to play the grand piano'. 'Pardon me while I fly my aeroplane. It's an airship...an airship...d'you hear!? :bitchslap: Hold on then... Wingco! Bend an ear to the Squadron Leader's banter for a sec, would you? Uh, d-- don't-- don't worry about hi-- him, sir. He's de-- he's de-- He's de-- de-- de-- he's deaf and m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- mad, sir. Monsieur Necker? :tongue: The man who introduced so many valuable reforms and who proved so popular despite his opposition to Mirabeau's policy of issuing 'assignats'? Pretty strong meat there from Longueur who is saying, of course, that ultimately materialism, in this case the Webb's Wonder lettuce, must destroy us all. Well, apparently the whole structure of world peace may be threatened unless we immediately...get out of here! :outtahere: Okay Captain, you detail three men, start digging and load them up with cutlery, and then we'll have a rota. We'll have two hours digging, two hours vaulting and then two hours sleeping, okay?

:hi: :yay: Bbyatca :yay: :hi:

:ranton: Anyone found trivializing this war will face the supreme penalty that military law can provide. :rantoff: Well, they've spent a good night in there last night in preparation for the final assault today. The leader of the expedition is twenty-nine-year-old Bert Tagg - a local headmaster and mother of three. It's Ghastly Spotty Cross-Eyed's :wacko: birthday and she's having a disemboweling party for a few friends. No. He died. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto exploding bomb, and was killed in shooting accident. Nasty business. I his susscussor... how you say... succsussor. Dear Sir, I am writing to complain about that post about people failing out of a high building. I have worked all my life in such a building and have never once.... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrgghhh Popular as this jest has always been, however, it cannot compare with the ribald connotations associated with the dispatch of an edible missile. First... first the simple straightforward "offensive deposit." :eyeroll: You promised you'd tell us about pointed sticks. You see! There ought to be a safety catch on it, I mean ... ohhhh! I mean, what if this fell into the wrong hands? Well I mean, blimey, I mean if it was a big war somebody could be hurt. :scared: The Reverend Charlie `Drooper' Hyper-Squawk Smith. the cleft-palated RAF chaplain, who single-handed shot down over five hundred German chaplains. This is the story of the men who flew with him ... it really is! Oh, 'an aeroplane'. Oh, I say, we are grand, aren't we? 'Oh, oh, no more buttered scones for me, mater. I'm off to play the grand piano'. 'Pardon me while I fly my aeroplane. It's an airship...an airship...d'you hear!? :bitchslap: Hold on then... Wingco! Bend an ear to the Squadron Leader's banter for a sec, would you? Uh, d-- don't-- don't worry about hi-- him, sir. He's de-- he's de-- He's de-- de-- de-- he's deaf and m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- m-- mad, sir.