My own memory is an unreasonable cruelty, The abiltiy to recall the obsolete rubbish and dwell
in the past. The heartbreaks, the breaking of hearts, the success and then the great Humpty Dumpty style fall. Oh misery me.

That and all that bad stuff I done to people, like making them eat raw vegetables with aioli or other such dips. The unreasonable crudité that I have inflicted.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 19 Jul 2013, 14:34, 2 replies)

Fuck.

Are you Gordon Ramsay, Jamie the Twathead, or that other fucking culinary nonce who was so fortunate as to fellate/cunnilinguate* a producer from a company who might make tv shows about twats who can barely cook, but have passable pronunciation?

* Apologies. Tried to create a new verb so that the modern English language can keep up with the outrageous claims of the French and the ongoing development of their language.
(EffinNitWit asks his tobacco where his whisky is, Fri 19 Jul 2013, 15:21, closed)

I least I stay pithy. Rather than inflicting thousands of sad words onto people.
What are you, the useless love child of Trollope or the unwanted abortion of James Joyce? Either way you are a long winded dullard who wanks to copies of your old Grange Hill magazine you giant nonce.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 19 Jul 2013, 17:30, closed)