01-09-2018, 02:35 PM
10231
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by spitfire
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Was that a physical take, or a metaphorical take?
01-09-2018, 02:40 PM
10233
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by spitfire
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Takeshi's Castle.
01-09-2018, 02:47 PM
10235
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by gumbud
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Christmas cake!!
Is it possible to have your cake and eat it?????
01-09-2018, 07:05 PM
10237
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by Pug
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Oh,ffs!Right,must go...one has INTELLIGENT people with whom one must converse.
01-09-2018, 07:07 PM
10238
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by spitfire
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What are you on about Man, there is no such thing as truth.You'd better believe it.
01-09-2018, 07:17 PM
10239
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by Robert Junior
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OK then ,if I told you I was lying wud it then be the truth?
You know darn well that that isn't the proposition, the question would be, would you know if it was the truth, you might just think you are lying, anyway, I've always had you down as an upstanding fellow, now, I've just got to work out if that is true, if truth does indeed exist.
01-09-2018, 08:44 PM
10240
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Well here’s a true little story for yis, and I’ll use the politicians disclaimer for this one by saying that the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Little Molly Ryan was in love with the potato man, he used to come round every Saturday morning and she’d have her eyes peeled watching out for him. He went by the name of Spud Murphy, had a horse and cart and weighed up the stones and half stones of Kerry Pinks, Queens, and Roosters, out to the housewives, and if they hadn’t enough cash it would always do next week, he was a decent soul our Spud.
When Molly was young she had a darlin’ plan
To run off to London with the potato man
He was tall and strong and his name was Spud
And his face and clothes were covered in potato mud
Saturday morning she lay in wait
Till the bold Spud strolled up to her gate
She threw her white arms around his neck
Squeezed him till he dropped his potato sack
Out of the door dashed Molly’s dad
“Unhand her you ghastly cad!
Get inside Molly, that man is no good”
And that was the last she seen of Spud.
Just goes to show you that it was not true love, when the chips were down Spud done a runner, it was a half baked idea in the first place, no more will Molly squeeze his Kerry Pinks nor weigh up his King Edwards, for Spud ventured on to the broad horizons of America where he married a dark skinned maiden from Mexico and opened up a chip shop in Acapulco. and they lived happily ever after, or so a man from County Clare was telling me.
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