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The p*ss head's pockets PTW fund.


jcheeseright
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I do something similar but with £2 coins and it is actually a holiday fund. :blink:

 

We've so far had two camping holidays to St Ives, Cornwall from it and are currently saving for another holiday for next year. Although I wouldn't mind renaming it my "NAE 2014 fund" to be honest! :D

 

Will put said suggestion forward to the missus......... <_< but not getting my hopes up :(

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I used to save £2 coins as well, it is amazing how many you get the moment you start saving them! I used mine as my bike trackday fund, paid for over 3 trackdays in under a year when I was saving them :-)

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What better bottle is there than an empty pot of Blasters? Haha.

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Airsoft - It saves lives!

 

Suzuki, just put it foward under the guise of another camping trip, after all, it won't be a total lie!

Apparently, the NAE is also family friendly, so it would be another holiday! Win win! :)

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I hardly ever use cash these days, except for fruit from the local shop (lol, where the precious things reside) and bus fare. In Notnum they don't give you change on the buses so, unless you want to get raped even worse, you need the right money - that takes care of my spare change and then some.

 

Even the pubs I feel comfortable in take cards these days. Tis the end of days, I tell ye. Every man shall have the mark of the beast and without it shalt he not trade. Don't forget the whore of Babylon, or the friend who shalt borrow his friend's hammer...

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See the problem, Ed, is that you're just to unreconstructed for a cosmopolitan place like Notnum.

 

Our buses don't bend, nor do their drivers - they are one of the more obvious manifestations of the implacable edge to the social contract we adhere to in order to enjoy greater freedoms, such as being able to get a prescription which is not available free on the NHS filled at the pharmacy of the apocalypse harbingering sized Tesco at Long Eaton, where it is much cheaper, for the same bus fare as popping down to town to take in the awe inspiring sight of Trams which do not bend so much as shimmy through the exuberance of happiness brought on by hanging out in Europe's largest square/plaza/piazza/place-to-piss-in-the-water-feature, mere yards from which one can purchase burgers made from hemp seeds, have one's unsightly face veins zapped, pay staggering sums for every kind of tat a lifestyle mag could care to pontificate about, be accosted by some of the North's finest nutters and urchins and still have time to pick up a Sub Way to nibble on the way to a nearby bus route to anywhere from Northampton to your own dismal backwater...

 

Let's have it right, you can hardly expect a Notnum damsel to pledge herself heart and soul to an uncouth Yorkshireman, can you? No doubt she was enjoying a bit of rough for experimentation, making her mistakes with someone with whom she would never ordinarily share a social milieu, before going on to find an equal...

 

Remember, we've got Robin Hood, whom IIRC it was the anthropologist Scott who theorised was demonstrably more likely to have been a real person than Jesus H. Bomb Christ. Whom have you got, Uri Geller?

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Robin of "Loxley" was actually from Loxley... In Sheffield.

So you can go and throw yourself into Notnum's favourite place to piss in the water, if you so please.

A-thank you lol. Plus, my ex was actually from Satan's Grotto. Otherwise known as The South. Shropshire, to be exact. The only thing good to have come from there has been Frijj Milkshakes, and her older sister lol.

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However, the "Loxley" angle is but one rendition of the legend, one fostered to remain at least partially palatable to those with the power to cause an oral tradition to be written down, since the "goodie with the wherewithal to challenge established authority and the status quo" is not some random peasant, some person just like those sitting around in the pub listening to the tale, some everyman pushed by exigent circumstances to disregard the threats and consequences implicit in government per se, a simple common man whose practised skill at arms, intelligence, and charisma could be the seed of an effective community beyond the reach of corrupt power...

 

...no, he was a nobleman. A Saxon in a world of Norman overlords, but nevertheless a lord with the god-given mystical 'extra' that allows him to collect taxes and live off the fat of the land, so long as he pays his quota on up the chain to the Godfather King.

 

So obviously you can keep your lickspittal ponce of Loxley and we will revere the Hooded Robber, the ultimate embodiment of the power of people to opt out of corrupt law and beat it. And besides, we've got his statue, so ner ner nee ner ner!

 

Oh for shame though! Shagging a Southerner!

 

It's kind of understandable though. She is not merely a southerner, but one who had come to the magical city to clothe herself in its glamour, and being an uncouth Yorkshireman, you were taken in... it's a sad tale, but one which ought to be a lesson to all scum :lol: It takes more than a university education to emerge from the soot...

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Let's have it right, you can hardly expect a Notnum damsel to pledge herself heart and soul to an uncouth Yorkshireman

 

Remember, we've got Robin Hood, whom IIRC it was the anthropologist Scott who theorised was demonstrably more likely to have been a real person than Jesus H. Bomb Christ. Whom have you got, Uri Geller?

You Sir have offended the honour of my county and I will not stand for it! To answer your 2nd question I name Sean Bean !

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You Sir have offended the honour of my county and I will not stand for it! To answer your 2nd question I name Sean Bean !

Indeed Sir. And Geoff Boycott is so gay he's asked for a special part to be written into the chorus line for him in the upcoming musical "Howzat!"

 

Sean Bean? TBF he's good, but he'd be the first to acknowledge that compared to Robin Hood, he is generic tinned sardines in a water heating contraption rejected by Argos, on the scale* of different kettles of fish (*ha ha fnah hoch ha).

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Oh for shame though! Shagging a Southerner!

In my defence, she was living in North Yorkshire as I knew her, right next to Malham Tarn in a grade 1 protected house built in the early 1600s, her dad ran the Malham Tarn field centre. But then he got a job running the Shropshire one, so they moved to Skipton as they weren't allowed to stay in the uber old house anymore, since it was connected to the job. Her dad was from Sheffield too, and her mum has german ancestry, so she's more Northern, or foreign, than Southern.

 

She was fairly fit as well.

 

Now fuck off hook, I've argued myself off you!

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A likely story! You'll be telling us your boner was ironic next!

Now fuck off hook, I've argued myself off you!

Muahahaha! :lol::P (v^^v)

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TBH I wouldn't know - I prefer quim more up close and personal and/or girls who like to break rules.

 

Still, if you're talking about Hooters, serves you right. They market themselves "exactly what it says on the tin" stylee, but if that were the case they'd be called "Bell Ends R Us".

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Well, moving away from snottingham...

 

I've never thought about that idea.... seems so simple yet a lot of us don't even think about it.

 

I'll start putting those spare £1-2 I'm left with after a day's spending and put it towards something nice! (Maybe a good day out with my future gf if i'm ever lucky, well... i'm not... sob sob... well, my guitar playing skills are good, I can play romantic songs bit mostly sad songs for some reason..... might woo them)

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Frizz you could save your change for a Brummie girl...

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Or maybe, just demonstrate that you have a penis. You could piss against a wall or something.

 

No one's a Brummy on here... are they?

Pahaha

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