it may have been responsible for the uncontrollable foot fetish I had up till around 2001.
Re: The Golden Age of Prog/trance... 1996-2001 (752 replies, posted in General Bedrock Discussion)
there aint arf some facking cahnts in the crowd at Wimbledon.
women , public sector workers, remedial hoorays with hare lips and inbred royals .
where batsman win one day games , tests are won by bowlers and the ability to take 20 wickets.
imo Anderson is declining force (still a fine bowler) and shares the new ball with A seemingly grumpy old git in Broad...5 Tests up against smith, clarke , watson etc is a huge workload for these two without the magnificent swan to bowl 2o straight overs down one end.
Mark wood is crucial to our chances , however, i think he has only played 25- 30 first class games despite his age due to injury. the england management will only play him in 3 or 4 tests.
Stokes can help out with 15 overs , but i dont see him as a heavy wicket taker , could get you 2, 3 wickets in a test match .
a lot depends on Finn to be a major strike bowler and help out dismantling the aussies top 5/6. high Runs per over are a by product of his bowling but i would have him in the side.
i dont know whatever happened to grahame onions the medium fast swing bowler from durham , our nearest thing to glenn mcgrath ??. injured ??.
the fst bowler overton from somerset could well make a breakthru, as could topely from essex.
dony understand the fuss re gary balance imo just a decent county player.
desperate for a spinner to come in. rashid i suppose is the best, again what happened to the lancashire spinner kerrigan?.
think were looking at a 2 or 3 nil defeat .
Re: True Detective (Season 2) *Possible Spolier* (72 replies, posted in General Bedrock Discussion)
'Dr Pitlor' ...Phil Spector .
unsettling and magnificent character.
This hot weather and having to wear a suit ....
it reminds me if an unsavoury episode in the city many moons since past.
it was boiling and as was my penchant ,a gram of kibble was required ,to face the wife that evening in some sort of trancendal state as i couldnt stand the fucking cunt.
off i went to secure said purchase.
things being as they were i got cunted in the bar and razed the lot,so another purchase was the order of the day.
it was a very hot summer and the purchase had been incubating in my suit pocket for some time.
by the time i got back to work
the fucker had absorbed all the moisture and became that pasty unusable shit that we all know so well.
in the staff kitchen i go and place the lottery ticket in the microwave(i was fuckin flying by now)
when the M.D. came in (the cunt has an MBE) And is fanatical about stamps.
he positioned himself in front of the micro and started talking about fucking japenese stamps that were printed upside down or ones where the queen mums tit is missing that are worth £50 million quid or some shit like that.
the micro was cracking away like popcorn while this boring arsehole witered on and on.
praying to god he wouldnt ask what was in it, i said "oh my toffee is burning " he looked at me like Dr Mengele does twins with similar hair growth patterns, and he fucked off sharpish.
all that was left was a burnt caramel like substance which i necked anyway. fuck me it was horrible.
i also recall my sister getting a bros jumper from my senile grandmother, constance, in about 1993.
there faces were knitted and looked as if they had been the victim of an Asian honor acid attack.
luckily for all concerned she (constance) passed away the following year and no one ever talks about it.
christmas 1975, i was a scrap of east end fluff playing football all day round the back of the prefabs in east ham , scrapping , nicking and generally getting up to no good in a innocent 70's fashion.
my posh aunty marjorie from gidea park comes round to our shit hole in east ham with her husband (a Hugh lovegrove jenkins ffs ! ) bearing gifts for the scummy linghorns ...i set my eyes on this huge present , and tear into in like a junk hungry smack head into a liberated pensioners purse, ravenous for a muhmmad ali blow up boxing punchbag , a football and nets, David niven magic hat ..even a tommy cooper fuckin golf set.
but no the labour loving lefty aspiritional , brushed denim ,habitat cunts from their penthouse in slewins lane , gidea park give me a fucking wicker chair. a wicker chair to a football mad cockney 8year old..
this fucking thing wouldnt have looked out of place on a tim love lee or derek flint poster. i burst into tears , which was probably the fuckers intentions.
still gets bought up every year at christmas.
get well boring..
3rd world countries.
in these lean fiscal times where we are having to tighten our belt , cant sir bob geldof ask for a bit of our money back.
surely they must be over their problems by now.
gertchca cha cha
so bored of drinking.
the kib and other drugs are off the menu, and ive got the sex drive of arthur mullard when confronted with a naked female over the age of 12.
ive abased myself in every way for the past 30 fukin years. whats next ? food ?, box sets?, the gym, football ?, haberdashery ? take an interest in my children ??
i simply wish to lazily imbibe of the greatest pleasures known to humanity on a salary commensurate with a rising figure within the probation service.is that too much to ask.
i remember some Harkonen gadge in the book 'dune' was addicted to a Variant of the spice melange , 'Semuta' extracted from the burnt residue of elacca wood , which ,when used in conjunction with certain tonal resonations and vibrations keeps you rock hard and on a seemingly endless wave of ecstasy
as i cast my eye over the sawn off panhandles in my vicinity this morning at work , i must seek the spice .
the spice must flow.
or something like that, in not to sure. i think im just a bit fked off..
my prog keeps me sane.
blood temperature reaching graphite -carbon -rods -being- dipped- into- water last night watching a collective called 'clean bandit'. a so called fusion of house and classical ensemble .
think aka bilk on mescalin and weetabix drinks
a cover of robin s 'show me love', the anthem of every white wine farting bad manchester perm wearing secretary in the cosmos.
i wanted to launch a flame thrower into the crowd .
i love the smell of napalm in the morning ...smells like...student grants
spent the whole evening moaning like phil daniels dad in 'quadrophenia' while watching glastonbury on bbc2/bbc3 bbc4 last night.
"sopping wet jeans."
Here you go ETC -
mmmm, it makes me feel mighty real ED
im sorry, i really have'nt the time to partake in this thread....my chocolate sponge fingers , layerd with zabaglione, minced ginger and sweet red cherries are due out of the arger in 2 minutes.
i remember walking down neal street in covent garden in 1988 ..me and a mate dressed in cycling shorts and dr martens as was the fashion of the times, were stopped by a 6ft , fluid gender based entity , in full plumage from the gay pride march ... high heels , stockings and suspenders, whip and 2ft headress of bananas, kumquats and various exotic fruits..
ill never forget his advice to me that day ..."be young , be fabulous, be gay !!"
ive always lived by those sage words except for the gay bit, and after three marriages.. i cant help but think he may have been right on that one .
Re: What are you listening to at the moment? (5,075 replies, posted in General Bedrock Discussion)
from 'set in stone' to the end ..
it is with great shame im still using my chocis chewns record bag , or if im feeling fruity, my platipus bag. a pathetic sight for a middleaged man to be carrying a record bag, but it makes me feel alive , which is a rare thing these days.
one would imagine handy for secateurs , twine, potato peeler, patio weed killer , nails, caustic soda crystals, goosefat (with abrasives for extra purchase) and small mammals i wouldnt know , but i do use mine for simple pleasures... my case files that i sell to local newspapers , thus betraying the confidentiality and sacred trust between myself and some cunt from albania whose pimping out custom house tarts to muslim men down ilford lane.
my word is my bond.
i did have a nice hook recordings bag , and a perfecto one which i flogged on e bay as i was too embarassed to use it any more . it is however , with some regret that i do not have my faithful old hook bag any longer.
i bought a luther vandross record bag in 1987 in pink, that had 'forever for always, for love on it'. which is by the byand of no relevance at this juncture.
i would however , like a faux crocodile skin suitcase that has secret compartments for a plastic walki talkie , water pistol in the shape of a camera, silencer, invisible ink compass, retractable knife , secret service id card, x ray specs in fact everything a 47 year old suicidal , manic depressive , assassin from north chingford requires to circumnavigate his day to day affairs, and with luck, tolerate the next 24 hours of my seemingly endless exsistence.
BedRob wrote:Ncable wrote:
If Spandau Ballet can make a comeback, then so can they.
only muscle bound prog need apply
hurry up and sell chuck berry so we can get some fuking cash in .
20% of sterlings fee so Chris ramfukker can spend it on kevin nolan and stan Mortenson Would be a beautiful thing.
Grown men bragging about drug taking.
You do realise it ruins many peoples lives?
who was bragging ??, it fucked my life up royally, and sadly for me and some of my family , permanently in many ways. ive always had a gallows humor for this subject, for me its cathartic and for others fucking boring.