No that's the other one.
You're thinking of the one where there's no lid on the cocoa powder.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 14:32, 1 reply)

aaaaah, yes!
I get them confused so easily. Especially if there's tinned salmon or a dead budgie involved.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 14:38, closed)

When I told my mother that one, she was sick for a week.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 14:39, closed)

I remember the night I first heard it.
It was my induction into the Windsor Brethren and Sistren of the Almighty and Worshipful Company of Left-Handed Goat-Dockers. I'd assumed the position, partaken of the ceremonial Goat-Docking (left-handed, of course), and was about to be given the ritual Cheese-Slice and Blue Sock, when the Grand Master spake forth about the Mysterious and Downright Spooky tale to which you refer.

I haven't been able to look at tinned salmon since. Or leiderhosen.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 14:50, closed)

Personally speaking
I still can't be left in the same room as a wardrobe on my own for any length of time.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 14:56, closed)

On another note (reminded by the talk of wardrobes)
Some woman who had an affair with Nicholas Soames said sex with him was like "a wardrobe falling on top of you, with the key still in the door".

Ewwwww.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:03, closed)

"Alright - we'll call it a drawer."

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:06, closed)

No, no.
I don't think it was anywhere near big enough to be compared to a drawer. Just a teeny tiny little iron key poking ineffectually around.

Ewwwwww.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:07, closed)

A couple of years ago Mrs Vagabond & I were in St Ives for the music festival.
At one pub we were in, at around lunchtime, an old lady came in with a guitar, and started playing a blusey number that had the chorus "I said to him I sure like your key, but you're putting it in the wrong keyhole ... "
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:09, closed)

filth

(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:10, closed)

filth sexytiem
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 15:12, closed)

So what attracted her to him in the first place.
The rich smell of mahogany?
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Mon 26 Apr 2010, 17:04, closed)

his sparkling personality?
his magnificent hair?
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Wed 28 Apr 2010, 12:39, closed)