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No, it's not alright!


Sledge

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[George walks over to Baldrick.]

 

George: Ah, now, now this is interesting.

 

Blackadder: What is?

 

George: Well, Private Baldrick is obviously some kind of an impressionist.

 

Blackadder: The only impression he can do is of a man with no talent. What's it called Baldrick? "The Vomiting Cavalier"?

 

George: That's not supposed to be vomit; it's dabs of light.

 

Baldrick: No, it's vomit.

 

George: Yes, now er, why did you choose that?

 

Baldrick: You told me to sir.

 

George: Did I?

 

Baldrick: Yeah, you told me to paint whatever comes from within, so I did my breakfast. Look, there's a little tomato.

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I shall second that, but sadly my Irish is very lacking. So in protest I shall dance the national dance of my country!

 

*Puts Ghettoblaster on the ground and presses play*

 

*Do the hustle*

 

A penny for the man or woman who can tell me what obscure refrence that is from. Give you a clue, its a cartoon series.

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Hey the next AG have a Coke festival. We get sponsered by Coke to have one there. :):rolleyes: Dreams about it. You know not to be bad but there is a Coke company here that makes nicer Coke the CocaCola it's called Apotekernas.

It taste a bit of toffie and a more spread taste. So we can have that too :D

 

What do you think ?

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I live in Georgia where coke was made/ started...we have the world of coke here...its pretty kick *albatross* to see what other sodas are around the world..

 

WE call everything here just coke/soda...and whats with people calling it pop?

Our school in cafiteria has ALL coke stuff...i swear why do we need orange fanta and minite-maid (sorry i can't spell that) orange...

 

And whats with people not understanding "sweet tea" is this just a southern/georgia thing 0_o?

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And whats with people not understanding "sweet tea" is this just a southern/georgia thing 0_o?

 

Still, it's more refreshing than a mug of good ol' Welsh Sweat Tea...

 

*shameless dig at the Welsh - yes I am Welsh...*

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COke galore

 

*Smacks Crazy_Harry, steals his keys, goes to his house, eats all his food

and reads his mail*

 

20 mins later in his house

 

* Lies on Crazy_Harry's bed, finds is 3g mobile phone, Phones privet time phone line for some privet time then phones Havoc_Man*

 

Dafool- COme on let's go and blow up the Pepsi factory im bored

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Ah hah, that proves what I thought...

 

About an hour ago some odd Swedish bloke phoned me, saying that he wanted time in a bush with me or something. He tried a few come-ons, but my advances stopped him in his tracks.

 

Then, 20 minutes later, one of my mates phoned. He works at an XXX Chat Line company, and he complained that some odd Swedish guy had phoned there asking for me!

 

Humph.

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I live in Georgia where coke was made/ started...we have the world of coke here...its pretty kick *albatross* to see what other sodas are around the world..

 

WE call everything here just coke/soda...and whats with people calling it pop?

Our school in cafiteria has ALL coke stuff...i swear why do we need orange fanta and minite-maid (sorry i can't spell that) orange...

 

And whats with people not understanding "sweet tea" is this just a southern/georgia thing 0_o?

 

Hail fellow Georgianite! Together we will smite these pepzi drinkers! RRRRRRRARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

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oh look dafool, my shiney new maruzen m870 has just turned up...

 

* sound of shotgun being racked *

 

* aims shotgun squarely at dafools crotch from zero inches away *

 

*sound of trigger being squeezed and 5 .2bbs powered by green gas hitting dafool squarely in the knackers at point blank range *

 

of course, owing to the naff power of the m870, this has no effect at all. Thankfully the build quality of the m870 is excellent, so I shift my grip on the gun and smack dafool upside the head with the butt.

 

dafool goes down like a sack of spuds.

 

I throw him out into the cold new england dawn, pausing only to crack open one of my fabled cans of super strength imported Iron brew, taking a swig and then pouring the rest over dafools inert form, before going indoors to call the poh-leece about a sodden tramp fouling up our sweet massachusetts neighbourhood, and could they hurry along with the meat wagon and those electric cattle prods I've seen them using on TV.

 

* time passes, accompanied first by the sound of sirens, followed by the satisfying noises of the long arm of the law well and truly putting the boot in, followed by some low-level whimpering and wretching, followed by officer dibble (for it is he, of topcat fame, gone bad) reading dafool his (last) rites, before bundling him into the back of the meat wagon and a speedy exit. *

 

I wave them off and return to whats left of my house after dafools decimation, and give my remmy a swift polish ;)

 

touch my stuff again, and I might lose my temper.

 

on a side note, a buddy of mine from manchester refers to the rozzers as "dibble"- first time I heard this, I laughed my *albartroth* off (no mean feat; it is a mighty *albartroth*), and from that day have referred to all rozzers not actually close enough to me to hear, as dibble. just thought you'd like to know :)

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