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Ya gotta love Miss Pearl. . . so old and stuck in post Victorian anti-belle(um) epooqueishness that she is still gaga ( wannabe-gagged?) over Roddy McDowell's apparently gigantic wang. (I had not heard of an actual measured length before. And now it turns out to be 9 lousy inches!! What a fuss!! Just better damn well be thick, is what I say. But then, he's dead. But does Miss Pearl care? Noooo ).

But in this new century we should move on shirley, to Brad and Tom and ~ especially ~ Num and Lek. (The Num's & Lek's are 'easier' (and cheaper, shirley) than the Brads or Toms . . . just take a good look, then pick a number).

Cheers ...

I study Chinese now a lot more easy as this complete nonsenses above . Your a old to early pesioned Canadian school teacher smiles ? Is there not a Forum for to early pensioned old Canadian school teachers ?

To much of this weirdo Trolls smiles, turn your wheel chair darling crap the flees for a last time and go sleep don't worry your senile brain will forget today, there always a tomorrow and more senile brain behavior !

[Smiles]

" ... Chinese now a lot more easy as this complete nonsenses above ... "

C'mon now Baziel, get real . . . Edith (for instance) is 20 times more incomprehensible than myself. Just read the post above (for instance), or, ask a Belgian. :blob:

Cheers ...

there always a tomorrow and more senile brain behavior !

How low to take Edith involve, i love the post from Edith, understandable and funny , not pretending as you are Smiles !

[Smiles]

" ... How low to take Edith involve! ... "

That was a compliment!
Trust me, Edith has been a lot lower than that (in her day). :albino:

Cheers ...

That was a compliment!

Sure ?

Especially those made by Haynes, Jockey...et al.

I'd take a bow would it not mean getting off m' knees--You do your palates...pie & lattes...whatever...I'll do mine.
to be exact; you caught me on my knees rehearsing the last act--The one where she's garrotted --for my upcoming performance in the title rol├й as The Duchess of Malfi. The producers have kindly changed the title...just for me...to THE DOUCHESS OF MOUTHY! (And I'll be snuffed with a thuringer...todger...what ever what's-`er-name called-it!)

Actually, I'm only incomprehensible to those who have no grasp of irony or collect trivia; both of which I have as many trunksful...as baziel has of spoonerisms!
Personally; I understand dear baziel quite well, having spent many a night in student garrets in Bruxelles studying the Belgique...Belgic?...Belch?... Oh, hell: Flemish!...with adorable Flemish twinks; AKA: Bruxelles Sprouts and An-twerps and those Flemish twins we all know and love.

The low point in my life was when I joined up to do--What I thought was--my patriotic duty; due, strictly, to misinformation, from You Know Who, concerning the name; Sally Army--'We' do not have our own\there is no gay military, Pearl!...just Fox-hole-Fanny and, "You don't tell, I won't tell," formerly known as: "Oh, Boy!...Was I drunk last night!"
Soon as I was able to save a 'lost lamb'---by luring him down a dark alley off St. Martin's Lane--I fence... sold the cape & bass drum with a moll...er...doll, named Trixie at a cunning 'Antiques Shoppe' on Shaftsbury for enough ┬гs to pay for a lovely dim sum, on Gerrard Street, and few days at the dear old Regent Palace Hotel: that huge old pile in Piccadilly--No private loos but so convenient in case one need make a fast getaway--Such was the life of a cat burgerlar*.
*Spelling is correct: I did not burgle cats...I sold burgers made of cat meat.
Ah, those were the days, John...No need to troll for trollops in petrol stations, there were so many tootsies traveling the Piccadilly Line: the lines at the loos in Piccadilly Station.

[Aunty]

you caught me on my knees ....

Why Edith, that DOES make a nice change. :flower: I mean usually we find you in the missonary position; and the bishop always looks dreadfully pleased.

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you caught me on my knees ....

Why Edith, that DOES make a nice change. :flower: I mean usually we find you in the missionary position; and the bishop always looks dreadfully pleased.

Well, what can I do when those Bishops just flop on their back and lie there!
And all I did was break up a fight between a Bishop and two petrol station attendants. The Bishop was livid when, at my intervention, the attendants finally managed to run away: they really didn't understand the front & back\two-plugs-in-one-hole variation on the classic missionary position he was trying to teach them--and the old bloody old bugger insisted I serve as stand-in!
As it turned out, he wasn't 'Bishop' at all but B------ (Oops, I promised not to tell!) in a purple shirt and cassock... borrowed from Dawn French...and no knickers.