Hamburger Pimp

Mother Nature, like all women, is a capricious, faithless harpy. What a homely baby Oh, and by the way, "Elvis-style"? Eh?

Rugby - a bunch of coppers, nightclub doormen and bodybuilders playing silly beggars. FTS.

Three-nil to Mike Baldwin's army of heroes. Marshal Zhukov, Yuri Andropov, Pyotr Kropotkin, Marit Safin, the Cyrillic alphabet, Ra Ra Rasputin lover of the Russian Queen, Lana Cox, Anton Chekhov's mardy-arsed country doctors, can you hear me disgruntled fictional nineteenth century medics? Your boys just took one hell of a beating!

You love a bit of it! Is this cool?

A bit of fun

England 3 Russia 1 Gerrard and Owen to figure among the scorers.

'zackly!

It still is.

Smoking Ban Improves Health Damn those interfering politically-correct meddling bureaucrats and their do-gooding ways! Damn them to hell!

All the best, Malcolm.

"Hamburger Pimp: At age 50 you will be found dead in a pool of your own urine, slumped in front of your computer, after a marathon stint of completing tiresome internet memes." IFCIT!

Airy back door? Get it waxed!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!!!BUMFUN!!!!!!

England 4 Israel 0. Goals galore for Owen and Heskey.

Hark at Vivienne Westwood!

That's the Catholic dogma of Paypal Infallibilty for you.

First heard in 1994 on Chris Morris' Radio One show.

It's that time of the year again. Congratulations to Chianti on fifty not out. Hope you have had a great day.

Whoop-de-doo and praise the Lord! Good old Tesco are coming to town. Two established shops are being driven out of their premises before Tesco even arrives in town. More local businesses will go to the wall due to Tesco's ruthless business methods. Still, at least Cympil and Blank will be able to buy some three quid tesco bomber jeans, so that's alright. Every Little Hurts

It seems that they have shown the same advert in different regions of the UK, with different voiceovers tailored to the individual areas.

Never mind old Darn's controversial Sunday Trading shocker, here's a political hot potato so scandalous it'll blow your socks off. I refer, of course, to the street signs along Rothesay Terrace. I am sure you are all aware of the thoroughfare in question. Working in conjunction with Victoria Terrace, it acts a kind of metaphorical perineum, linking the festering Station to the vibrant, thrusting Top End. The signs at the top and bottom of this road are free of all criticism. Correctly spelled, neatly positioned, well maintained. A credit to the signmaker who crafted them. However, the two in between are a ruddy disgrace. They only say "Rothsay Terrace"! Rothsay? I ask you, is this what those bums at the Council choose to spend my tax dollars on? This is an outrage. Harrumph harrumph harrumph.

Well done you. If this was France they'd have named a park after you.

Finally? He'd only played for an hour this season before tonight.

A bold prediction: Newcastle 4 Barnsley 0. Oh yes!

Summit steep?