As a tribute to her Celtic ancestors Davida uses a coracle to get around her house. She says it is ok on the tiled kitchen floor but it is a bastard on the stairs...
Make an unfounded claim about the poster above you Page 232
...sounds about right. I have Celtic ancestors, anyway (and a weird fascination with Wales).
Playfull carries a screwdriver at all times and unscrews any screws encountered in daily life e.g. on a park bench, or a bus seat in a vague anarchistic attempt to slowly collapse society to the ground.
Davida Grimes has never had an original thought in her life, although she has laid claim to at least 5, 896, 441, 732 original thoughts in someone else's. Even after all these years (at least 3, but no more than 12, 906), the philosophers are still debating her claim in a court of law. Illegally, as it turns out, as they are all homeless, jobless, thoughtless squatters... and that's the nicest thing Davida has ever thought about them. It wasn't even her own thought and I'm currently having to make my case before these philosophers who are too busy shouting about Kants and other profound concepts.
Bill Jaguar couldn't hit a barn door... He doesn't even know what a barn looks like.
Bill Jaguar makes gloves for Donald Trump out of aborted mole fetuses.
William (Will) Patrick Chaim Abdesalem Cam (1939 - ) is an scotch author, playwrite and antique dealer.
Born into a family of Border Gardeners, Cam grew up in Sauchiecauchie Street, West Dunfrewburghshire, in the Scots Midlands. [1]
Little is known of his formative years. His early life is shrouded in filing cabinets in the offices of the Dundealin County Constabulary and secreted on the hard drives of the Lord Advocate, the Procurator Fiscal and the Royal Highland Association of Boy Scouts. [citation needed]
He first came to literary notice with the 1956 publication of "How Green Was My Tenbag", a hemi-autobiographical account of his younger years as an alehouse hustler and spidgeboy. Critics were divided: some hailed it as "brilliant", whilst others were less laudatory, labelling it "complete and utter shite".
However, with Cam's 1958 publication of "1985", the literary world had to sit up and take notice. Faced with a copyrite challenge by George Orwell's publisher, Self-, Cam decided to defend himself in front of the Sheriff Principle. He struggled, however, to understand the technical legalities and legal technicalities of Scotch Law and his in camera plea bargain to "tek ye ootside" did nothing to further his case. He was found guilty and sentenced to 25 years solitary confinement in Barlinnie jail.
(Cam was later to say that the 6 months he spent in solitary confinement whilst awaiting appeal were his "defining moment". He collected his thoughts, assembled his evidence and spent the time cogitating, deliberating and ceaselessly rubricating. He emerged physically unscathed, apart from a nagging injury to his right carpal which was to plague him throughout his life).
His appeal was heard before the Solicitor General, in front of a packed Sessions in the High Court of Justiciary. By this time, his case had become something of an cause célèbre and he had numerous altruistic offers of help from altruistic solicitors, altruistic barristers, altruistic clergymen and other homosexuals. Against all advice, he decided once more to defend himself, but again struggled with the legal complexities and complex legalities of Scots Law, but his ex camera plea bargain to "pit the heed on ye" did not go unnoticed: his sentence was increased by 10 years.
This represented a nadirous apogee for the young literarialist. Cam would later famously write that he had "ne'er bin so disfumbuckerooted in oll mah life." However, despite the nagging injury to his wrist, he found the energy to endeavour to persevere. He spent the long hours alternately preparing for his next appeal and exercising, tirelessly working from
It has been widely alleged that SSTT has colluded with the Russians to access hacked confidential information regarding Will Cams troubled early life. It is thought he intends to release this information in a dastardly bid to stop Will Cam in his attempt to be elected to the local allotment committee.
Playfull has cryptolocked this thread.
To release the thread please pay £1.50 in bit coins. The coins should be put in an envelope and posted to Playfull via Floo Powder - (Please remember to speak clearly).
Playfull's lips once froze to the nose of a Polar Bear, during an ill conceived photo opportunity.
"You idiot !" his wife exclaimed "I told you to use lip balm !"
Firkin released an album of B-sides entitled 'Brexit' with his band -The Mays. It was shit but Nigel Farage bought 3 copies for his rape club.
Well despite government warnings not to pay up to blackmail threats both Will Cam & Firkin caved and sent me the required Bit Coin ransom. As promised i have now unencryptolocked this thread.
I would however like to take issue regarding the payment of said coins. Firkin chose to sellotape 57 pence worth of Bitcoins to half a house brick. Which She/he threw through my through lounge window. Will Cam went one better by sellotaping 93 one penny pieces - which he had individually bitten in a knowingly sarcastic manner - to the other half of the house brick, which he then sellotaped to a Rottweiler, which he then threw through my newly repaired window...
I think my next move might be to cryptolock any thread that mentions cats...
Playfull, my neighbour, struggles to communicate. Which is why he got my cat drunk on G and T, tied a note to his tail and threw him over my fence. Well if that isn't cat-a-tonic, I don't know what is.
Firkin's constipation worsens...
Playfull holds the world speed record for sucking a lemon up his ass.
Firkins colon extension proves to be a big hit with tourists...
