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( , Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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do one about me! I fucking do them about you often enough.
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:17, 7 replies, latest was 13 years ago)

it had been a rough night; mrs.mmps had passed out and shat herself and his son had painted the 'lounge' walls with her feaces. MMPS shook his head and picked yet another piece of sweetcorn out from under his nails.
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:21, Reply)

Me pipes, me braw bricht pipes wha me wee mither hae gi' abou' henna bairn me wee mither gang ower many abou' on a braw bricht moonlicht nicht me couthie pipes at many a mickle maks a muckle me wee mither na mair, laddie, Na mair I' the warld on a verra braw fricht abou' I ken wha hae bled a man's a man for a' that and a' that and a mickle a muckle
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:21, Reply)

the stench of a mixture of Buckie and what he referred to as ‘pish’ (NB this is what people in England with the luxury of teeth refer to as ‘piss’) burning his bulbous, red, veiny nose like napalm. He idly picked at his distended, diseased anus through his Kappa kilt and his pleurisy-ridden lungs rattled like a half-empty box of Highland Toffees.
'Och aye the noo' he bellowed in his unintelligble 'brogue'. His wife, Gudrun Ure, made a futile attempt to shoo away the flies which gathered like ill-omened stormclouds around their munchy box dinner.
ET CETERA
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:23, Reply)

just because i can't translate what i said doesn't mean i didn't sweat blood to produce it
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:41, Reply)

( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:25, Reply)

Next time drive, you fucking dimwit.
( , Thu 15 Nov 2012, 14:25, Reply)
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