
Roger Boyes tells us: "I was once coaxed up on stage and did ten minutes of off-the-cuff stand-up comedy. Amazingly, I brought the house down. A few weeks later, having rehearsed like hell, I went back to the same stage and got hardly a titter. Well, sod that." Have you ever amazed yourself with hidden talents?
( , Fri 18 Apr 2014, 12:44)
This question is now closed.

at the second knuckle - the one closest to my hand, without the first knuckle bending at all.
Then, if I flick the end of my finger with the other hand, it wobbles up and down in a slightly odd fashion.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 11:49, 3 replies)

To bring out the stupid in everyone.
Except me of course, I'm awesome.
Shitnobbles.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 8:52, Reply)

Next they'll be banning people.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 8:27, 10 replies)

but I'm not about to go to work in fucking Canary Warf.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 2:45, 7 replies)

but I am a poet
Yes really!
As well as being a geneticist, astro-engineer, cyberneticist, neurostructuralist and moral theologian, I am a poet, published on countless worlds througout Time and Space. Under another name, of course.
Here is one of my latest works!
Enjoy, friends!
Scream For Your Sausage
Scream for your sausage!
Cry for your pie!
Fight for your Scotch egg!
Be quite prepared to die.
Stock up your larder
With wares of all kinds,
Save your left-overs -
Your crusts and your rinds,
For Ivor is coming,
That fat Northern beast -
Ivor is coming!
And he wants a Feast.
He wants twenty chickens
Roasted on racks,
With sizzling bacon
Hot on their backs.
He wants a fresh piglet
Gutted and jointed,
With exotic oils
Its pert rump anointed.
He wants a whole herd
- This beggars belief –
Of heifers called Kevin
Turned into beef!
He wants a Scotch egg
The size of the moon!
He wants twenty of them -
And NOW, not ‘soon’!
He wants your bathtubs
Brimming with beer
(There won’t be room
For baby, I fear).
He wants all the cheeses
Ever devised
Gathered before his
Bulging blue eyes.
He wants tubs of lard
Paraded at dawn
By fit Northern lasses
With buttocks of brawn.
He wants... too much,
I hear you all cry -
Tough luck, you bastards,
He’s that kind of guy.
So scream for your sausage -
It won’t do no good,
Because hungry Ivor
Wants ALL YOUR FOOD.
( , Thu 24 Apr 2014, 0:07, 4 replies)

Sort of regret selling the act to that Cohen fella, but I wasn't really getting far with it.
( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 23:32, Reply)

... though this has proved of little benefit in life
( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 17:35, Reply)

...what the skies were like when I was young.
Grey, monotonous; much like they are now.
( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 17:03, 5 replies)

So is using the word "poon".
( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 15:06, 8 replies)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0Sow24CAQs
( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 13:07, 3 replies)

( , Wed 23 Apr 2014, 13:02, 5 replies)
This question is now closed.