No one ate your dinner.
You ate it and then forgot because you're a senile old cunt.
( Master Of Turnips. Only gays and morons believe in ghosts., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:28, archived)

Yes they fucking did.
It was sausages. I had grilled a whole fucking packet to make a cassarole and some cunt ate them. Fact.
Don't you call me senile Georgina.
( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:29, archived)

If Mrs. HB backs your story up I'll believe you.
If not I'll start a whip round to pay for your first month in a home.
( Master Of Turnips. Only gays and morons believe in ghosts., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:31, archived)

Have visitors been yet?

( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:32, archived)

I wasn't there
although apparently the lodger spent most of Sunday in the bathroom and the sausages had only been partially cooked for casseroling. You can make up your own minds about that.
( The Cat's Mother Not a People Person., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:32, archived)

That should do the trick.
I'll pay you later.
( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Mon 1 Jun 2009, 13:35, archived)