EDF Charades

[HonaloochieB]

Sorry to go off topic for a second, but can we all agree that on here we start calling the state of having swine 'flu as being a 'Tad Mex'.

Far classier I think you'll agree and won't affect sales of bacon.

[*Bob*]

Or a 'Ted Mex', perhaps.

[Jeremy]

You haven't told us who the ranter is.

Is it "thebeard"?

[Mikecg]

Is it Snorky? he like a Rant.

[*Bob*]

The Ranter = Domitianus

[mockney piers]

.

*edited cos just can't be fucking arsed*

--new improved charade playing mockney --

- edited at 8:09

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Snorky!

[mockney piers]

ta daaaa !

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Let me play this round for Admin.

[red devil]

Is it a musical?..

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

No - you're thinking too deeply.

[red devil]

Is it a song then?..

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Can't help thinking you're being too literal this morning red devil. Either top up the Bloody Mary or go back to bed. x

[red devil]

It must be a song then!..

...sorry, pulling your plonker...zzzzz

SEAN MAC!

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

No.

[red devil]

Huguenot?..

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

I'm ignoring you now.

[red devil]

Give us a clue then, everyone else is sleeping off their hangovers...

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

I'm miming it as I type.

[HonaloochieB]

Stop that PGC, there's no one on here called 'w*nker'.

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

Shame on you HB. I have a bar of Wright's Coal Tar with your name on it.

[woofmarkthedog]

Moos Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> *Bob* Wrote:

> --------------------------------------------------

> -----

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rantrant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant IRRATIONAL DISLIKE OF CHILDREN rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rantrant rant AND THEN AN

> > OCCASIONAL SENTENCE IN CAPITALS rant rant rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rantrant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant MORE WORDS IN CAPITALS rant rant rant rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> >

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rantrant rant rant rant ANOTHER

> > SENTENCE IN CAPITALS rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rantrant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rantrant

> rant

> > rant rant AND ONE MORE SENTENCE IN CAPITALS

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rantrant

> > rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant OVERLY LONG POST WITH SENTENCES IN

> > CAPITALS rant rant rant rant rant rant rant

> rant

> > rant rant rant

> >

> > rant rant CAPITALS the end

>

> :))

ERRR "Gabbers" ?

Maybe....perhaps

W**F

* curls up in front of a pure organic, carbon neutral, home grown "Silver birch "log fire....ahh *

[citizenED]

Monday morning: the weekend promise of Spring has given way to an unexpected chill in the air. This is evident in the faces of those who share with you the 185 up to Elephant. You are not dressed sufficiently for it. The vest remains on the back of the chair back in the unheated bedroom. Across the ailse, a teenage girl slants a bitter glance at the woman beside her who in return purses her lips, almost clucking. You try to imagine the familial clash that elicited such discord. An argument over appropriate clothing? From the look of them, the mum is envious of the girl's fresh face and slender figure. She has reason to. "Look at the mother." Your dad's advice about dating.

At the stop outside the Halifax a couple of likely lads skip on. You recognise one. Butler's boy? Drank down the Plough, before it got ponced up. Can be a bit tidy - that is tidy, as in nasty, with his fists, or so it goes. You sink down into your seat hunching your shoulders, your collar bristling against your neck. The comforting frission of warmth so generated is countered by the proximity of the other bodies, left and right. Close and sour smelling, like packed meat. In your pocket you strengthen your grip on your father's watch. Having finally summoned the will to visit, a wave of wariness descends upon you. What chance anything untoward happening before you get to there after work?

[Jah Lush]

Ted Max. Excellent parody by the way.

[????]

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