WHOLESOME TALES

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Post by azriel Wed Nov 07, 2012 8:10 pm

And for you, Petty....

Double glazing is doing great business in Scotland in hope that the children cannot hear the icecream van when it comes round.

Angus called in to see his friend Donald to find he was stripping the wallpaper from the walls. Rather obviously, he remarked "You're decorating, I see." to which Donald replied "Naw. I'm moving house."

Old Tam, who had lost all his teeth, had a visit from the minister who noted that Tam had a bowl of almonds. "My brother gave me those, but I don't want them, you can have them" said Old Tam. The minister tucked into them and the said "That was a funny present to give a man with no teeth." To which Old Tam replied "Not really, they had chocolate on them once..."

Callum decided to call his father-in-law the "Exorcist" because every time he came to visit he made the spirits disappear"
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Post by Eldorion Wed Nov 07, 2012 8:57 pm

Is Essex the UK's answer to the Jersey Shore or something?
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Post by Norc Wed Nov 07, 2012 9:07 pm

64.Why did the Essex girl go halfway to Norway then turn round & come home? It took her that long to figure out a 14 inch Viking was a TV set.

Laughing

I have loads on viola players.. Very Happy (I play it, therefor I care. Viola is btw better than violin.)

How is lightning like a violist’s fingers?
Neither one strikes in the same place twice.

What’s the difference between a viola and a coffin?
The coffin has the dead person on the inside.

What’s the difference between a viola and an onion?
No one cries when you cut up a viola.

Why do violists stand for long periods outside people’s houses?
They can’t find the key and they don’t know when to come in.

How can you tell when a violist is playing out of tune?
The bow is moving.

What do a viola and a lawsuit have in common?
Everyone is happy when the case is closed.

What is the range of a Viola?
As far as you can kick it.

Why are violas so large?
It’s an optical illusion. It’s not that the violas are large; just that the viola players’ heads are so small.

How many violists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
None. They can’t reach that high.

Why can’t you hear a viola on a digital recording?
Recording technology has reached such an advanced level of development that all extraneous noise is eliminated.

What is the difference between a violist and a prostitute?
1. A prostitute knows more than two positions.
2. Prostitutes have a better sense of rhythm.

How does a violist’s brain cell die?
Alone.

How do you call a violist with two brain cells?
Pregnant.

Did you hear about the violist who played in tune?
Neither did I.

What instrument do violists envy most?
The harp. You only ever have to play pizzicato on open strings.

A viola player went to a piano recital. After the performance he went up to the pianist and said, “You know, I particularly liked that piece you played last—the one that started with a long trill.”
The pianist said, “Huh? I didn’t play any pieces that started with trills.”
The viola player said, “You know—[he hums the opening bars of Für Elise.]
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Post by Orwell Wed Nov 07, 2012 9:11 pm

Lancebloke wrote:Dear Mr Bugle... I hope that in all this I either become a hero in the story or die a particularly noteworthy death. For any ideas regarding how an essex boy racer would behave in such as situation, may I refer you to the following sources...

Ol'Anon tells me he had never considereded killing off any Forumshiran characters (at least, not any fictional ones) but 'noteworthy death' does sound very appealing. I'll put in a good word for you. Very Happy

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Post by The Archet Bugle Sat Nov 10, 2012 1:01 am

Chapter Seven
In the Spacehulk of Chris Bombadildo


A full orbulous Moon glimmered on a white path that lead to Chris Bombadildo's house, though it was not so much a house as a spacehulk made out of carrot skins (Nelsons) which had crash landed in '33 (or possibly early '34). Amarie was not to know that Chris had stolen the craft from a farm in America and flown it erratically through outerspace until it plummeted down into the middle of the Old Gnarly Forest not far from where Chris - after recovering from his injuries and burns - found Goldberry bathing in a lily pond.

All the other Forumshirans were in Chris's spacehulk as Amarie hurried up the path to it's door (cabin-hole actually) and she could hear the happy babble of voices and the trumpeting sound of what was surely Julia's loud farting - though, knowing her, it was probably only Julia giving her impression of Petty farting - she being a ventriloquist - of sorts...

Amarie stumbled through the door (cabin-hole) exhausted and out of breath, her bosoms heaving and sweat glistening on her handsome torso. A hush fell over the crowd in Chris's lounge room (Admiral's Cabin).

"Hey derry do, merry-o
Deary-oh the booby,"
(sang Chris in a jolly voice),
"Red faced is her face,
And her boobs are droopy!


Hey-ho! Come in little naked fairy. Would you like Goldberry to give you a sponge bath to wipe away the grimey cares of day?"

Amarie now saw the most beautiful Lady she had ever seen. Gold was her hair, glowing her eyes, and willowy her shimmery psychedlic gown. She was definitely not a Forumshiran Lady - as she was genuinely attractive. Amarie thought of how nice it might be to have Goldberry's gentle subtle fingers caressing her weary flesh, perhaps smudged with aloe vera and lovely rose scented oil... Oh sorry - that was Orwell thinking it... ... Amarie thought, 'No, I'm not into anything like that --- at least publicly...'

Aloud, Amarie said primly: "If I could go and wash somewhere privately, perphaps with a cloth and a bucket of pure water, then I should be most thankful, Master Chris." (Which sounded kind of funny, as Amarie has never seemed your 'prim' type).

"Of course," laughs old Chris. "And when you're clean and towelled dry, we will all sit in a circle and discuss your Ring."

"What Ring?" Amarie blushed.

Elthir whispered something in Chris's ear.

Chris grinned from ear to ear. "Oh that's another story isn't it!"

And everyone laughed, though everyone too was now wondering about Amarie's Ring. (Which might make an excellent subject for a Wholesome Tale sometime - who knows? Very Happy )

When everyone was settled - and Amarie had been given a nice frock to conceal her naked beauty from Orwell's beady gaze, Chris began to sing a rollicking but sometimes touching song about carrot seeds, and spaceship hulks, and flights to Alpha Centauri, and Dalek Battleships, and a crash landing in a fantasy world, though some would call it a fairy tale world.

When he had finished the song, Chris said: "Now, are there any questions?"

Ally asked, "Who are you, Master? Is it true what they say in old Forumshiran Tales that you are a former Pommy who migrated to Western Ozhobbitstan?"

"I heard he was sent there as a Convict," Lance commented, little knowing that comments like that could get you killed in Forumshire.

"Ock tha noo!" You-know-who expostulated. "By thar burrnin ov ma buckie, I says he's noooo Ozhobbit."

"Right you are," said Chris in a jolly voice. "I'm a Mysterious Spirit of the Earth. I was here at the beginning and will be here at the end."'

"Oooooh!" said everyone quite impressed.

"Though I lost you all for awhile," he added with a touch of sadness, "and had to find you again."

Now you may think that an odd thing to say, but not if you know anything about Forumshire History and the evil plots of Amarie before she became nice and far less evil (or so she says!); back in the Bad Old Days of Dark Planet and the Zombies of Pardoon Minor.... Actually, I'm not sure the Pardoon Zombies were involved... never mind....

Where was I?

Norc piped up, "How about anothing fucking song, Chris, you jolly ol' fucker?"

And Chris Bombadildo (the jolly ol' fucker Very Happy ) proceeded to sing songs until the early hours, while everyone ate plentifully of butter, scones and honey, and drinking pure water that made them feel rather giddy in the head.

Next they knew (well, next thing they didn't know) they were all asleep. And they slept contented as logs in Chris's hulk - if logs are contented.














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Post by azriel Sat Nov 10, 2012 11:25 am

*"She was definitely not a Forumshiran Lady - as she was genuinely attractive."*
Erm, excuse me ! But do I detect a "slight" on the wonderfully,feminine ladies here ?? (who tolerate the over abundance of Ego & testosterone flying about at times, with mirth & wisdom,as befits our intelligence ????) Shocked Shame on you.
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Post by Pettytyrant101 Sat Nov 10, 2012 3:57 pm

Not a slight Azriel- an out and out insult WHOLESOME TALES - Page 39 1918643206 Go get him! Twisted Evil

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Post by azriel Sat Nov 10, 2012 5:15 pm

I would,but, once one has chased & trapped a seemingly persistant rodent, when its cornered,you realise its a waste of time, as the poor thing is obviously to simple to understand the connections of its actions. So,the said rodent plays the "idiot" card,& after looking into its vacant eyes one is then forced to pity it, (after a swift kick up the jacksee !) Twisted Evil
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Post by Orwell Sat Nov 10, 2012 8:24 pm

I honestly don't know where ol' Anon's ideas come from.... though he's clearly being totally fictional when he says things like that! pale





{{{ Sofa }}}

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Post by azriel Sat Nov 10, 2012 8:53 pm

And well may you hide behind that sofa, Orwell ! Basketball (think of this ball as something ELSE Im bouncing!)

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Post by The Archet Bugle Sat Nov 10, 2012 9:33 pm

Chapter Eight
Still in the Spacehulk of Chris Bombadildo



Orwell woke just before dawn in a cold sweat. He sat bolt upright on his comfy bedrug and gasped, "I find Forumshiran women tasty and delectable and as beautiful as anything --- probably too beautiful in fact for my poor mortal eyes to gaze upon - especially nude..."

He shook his head, as if shaking out ridiculous thoughts (which some say he had a fair few of), and then added, "Some writers in my experience have absolutely NO idea what true beauty is!"

And then he said: "A strange thing has occurred - and in a Wholesome Tale of all places! Shocked Reflecting back on what's happened so far, Chris is not only ON this Quest, but he's Chris Bombadildo as well! Go figure!"

"No," laughed Chris Bombadildo who Orwell realized with a shock was lying beside him and that it wasn't his own hand stroking his sausage just then. "I am the Earth Spirit Chris, while the other Chris is the real (fictional) Chris."

"I'm glad that clears things up... And isn't my sausage a bit cold?"

"I like cold sausages."

"I like mine hot," Mrs Figg said, for their talking had woken her up as she lay snuggled up to Orwell on his other side.

"For all that, Chris, could you give me back my sausage," Orwell asked politely. "I was saving it for breakfast."

"I can't even remember having sausages last night," Neek commented, bleary eyed.

"I do!" said Aleek. "It was in the year of Our Lord... or thereabouts.."

"Oh shut up," Neek snapped, for it was early and she was a late riser and hated being woken up early, her being usually a late riser (as I said), and having to listen to Aleek's vacuous rubish didn't help.

"Yummy!" said Chris and bit the end off Orwell's sausage.

"Yuuuuuuuooooooh!" Orwell complained. "I'm not eating that now."

"Ock tha noo!" Petty cried out suddenly. "Whar's my soosige goon then?"

"You never even had a sausage!" Julia said gleefully.

"Ock tha noo!"

"What's all the racket?" Amarie asked sitting up and wiping her eyes. "And how you lot do go on about sausages! Oatmeal is much better for you."

"My Mother gives me oatmeal every morning," Rodney (now awake too) piped up.

"Mothers and oatmeal are for Sissies," Lance said bluntly - with a peculiar gleam in his eye - not knowing that comments like that could get you killed in Forumshire; what with Mother's being highly respected and all (in Forumshire). Especially Yummy Mummies like Amarie.

"When I'm out out on manoevures with Bertrand, we eat wild duck for breakfast," Ringo comented, slightly flushed, as if he was in the middle of a fond memory.

"I'm sure you do," Azriel said in her husky voice.

"I want to clear up something here and now," Orwell burst out.

Everyone looked stunned by his outburstidness.

"What?" Chris (not Bombadildo) asked.

"Azriel is bothering me. I mean, Azriel is clearly a most beautiful wench - and only 52 years old, which is a year younger than me so I can make 'age-ist' jokes about her, though, of course, one shouldn't make 'age-ist' jokes about a Lady..."

"Get on with it!" Julia snapped, getting bored - due mainly to her short attention span (and not being all that young herself and wondering what kind of age-ist jokes might be made, not that I know yet, being an organic kind of writer).

"Well, Azriel looks remarkably feminine and gorgeous (for her age),"Orwell tried to explain. "But she doesn't look at all like a man-hobbit who has had a sex change operation, if you know what I mean."

"That's because I am a real Lady - however mature and getting on a bit," Azriel smiled.

"Then why did I think you were a guy to begin with?"

"Because you're a fuckwit," David said.

"True." Halfy said.

So with that cleared up, Azriel said, in her middle-aged Lady's tone, "Well, now that's sorted, perhaps we could get on with the Quest... Now, Master Bombadildo, we are off to save Odo Banks and his brother, niece and nephew..."

"Well, I can't help you," Chris Bombadildo said quickly, and taking another bite of Orwell's sausage. "I have immense powers but can't use them to help you. What I suggest you do is leave here once you've breakfasted (breakfast being the most important meal of the day) and go via the Barrow Downs, then take the East Road to Bree... and then work it out from there."

That seemed good advice, and the Questers had breakfast and got ready to go.







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Post by Pettytyrant101 Sat Nov 10, 2012 9:50 pm

As usual this reflects badly on all! Evil or Very Mad
{{Dont tell anyone at the NotP but keep this up you might have a vote in the bag come awards time, and thats saying more than my buckies worth, so I didnt say it, ok?}}}}

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Post by azriel Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:00 pm

I see partial redemption here, on behalf of all the ladies of Forumshire, but,now we have age-ist jokes ? mmmmm ?

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Post by Orwell Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:00 pm

{{{Nudge nudge... Wink Wink }}}

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Post by Orwell Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:03 pm

azriel wrote:I see partial redemption here, on behalf of all the ladies of Forumshire, but,now we have age-ist jokes ? mmmmm ?

Not even I am exempt from that... and me who is 53 but has the mind and body of a twenty year old... {{{(so long as it's not Nana-nap time and I don't look in the mirror... Sad }}}

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Post by David H Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:04 pm

Orwell wrote:

and me who is 53 but has the mind and body of a twenty year old...

Anybody we know? Suspect
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Post by Orwell Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:09 pm

Laughing Same thought crossed my mind... Laughing

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Post by azriel Sat Nov 10, 2012 10:16 pm

I find that a mind full of fairy dust & cuddly bunnies + a nutricious diet of honey & chocolate helps keep, ones self, youthful. So,in accordance with my 1st statement,I should be as trim as a willow leaf, Also I find axle grease does a great job on the old wrinkles, not that Ive got many! Laughter lines,thats all they are. (more so when theres a mirror around )

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Post by Mrs Figg Sun Nov 11, 2012 11:13 pm

"Get on with it!" Julia snapped, getting bored - due mainly to her short attention span (and not being all that young herself and wondering what kind of age-ist jokes might be made,''

why.... you! you!......... Mad
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Post by Mrs Figg Sun Nov 11, 2012 11:17 pm

Eldo we have a programm on MTV called Geordie Shore, so I think its Geordies.
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Post by The Archet Bugle Mon Nov 12, 2012 10:22 pm

Chapter Nine
Frog on the Barrow Downs


It was a sad leave taking from Chris Bombadildo's House and it was raining. Goldberry was on a hill top to the North dancing in a lovely fashion. There was no sign of fog on the Barrow Downs to the East. Chris Bombadildo sang down the hill to them as they trekked through lush grass knee high.

"Ho ho big the mo
derry do
the dingo
Jolly be your furry feet
pale white girls
and Gringos.
Big Chris
take the piss
take the piss
and singo
my songs
are going wrong
but were they ever right
by jingo."


It stopped raining and the sun came out and then Chris's tuneful voice added: "If you have any trouble in the Barrow Downs, I'll run down with skewers for his big juicy legs."

Which sounded kind of esoteric really - or at least Ally thought so - though, as it turned out, she was wrong.

As they trudged in the bright morning sunshine, David said wistfully, "I'm thinking of home and my latestest batch of carrot-prototypes -- peppermint carrots, what think you?"

"Peppermint carrots?" Halfy asked in surprise. "Is that some genetic engineering you're doing?"

"It is."

"Won't they smell a bit like teenagers when put into the supermarkets, Davey?" Rodney asked with wide eyed naivety.

"Of course they wont," Ally spurted in annoyance. "Teenagers don't smell like peppermint carrots."

"How would you know?" Lance scoffed, totally unaware that scoffing of that kind could get you killed in Forumshire.

"Surely no one can know yet what peppermint carrots would smell like," Amarie said wisely, "For clearly they are only in the genetic design phase and not released for general consumption."

"Yeah, they don't sound like they're anywhere near any kind of consumption phase," Orwell offered disparagingly.

"True," everyone agreed.

"Nock tha nay!" Petty cried suddenly in abject horror, pointing.

"Oh dear Eru, chew my sweet juicy cabbage!" Julia gasped. "Is that a ginormous frog sitting on the tallest mound of the Barrow Downs?"

And it was!

"I want to take a closer look," Aleek cried immediately. And she rushed down the mound they were on, and up the slope of the big mound with the ginormous frog on it.

"Take care," Azriel cried. "That frog may roll out it's tongue at great speed and snap you up into it's huge mouth, and that will be the end of you."

"Yeah, come back here you freak, you weirdo, you fucking girldick!" cried Neek.

But Aleek either heard them not or ignored them. Up the big mound she galloped, with her splendid ponytail swinging in the air behind her. She looked young and free and boylike in her jeans, possibly slightly lesbiany, especially in her jackboots, though still girly, like a young boy with feminine characteristics.

Orwell wondered if she would smell of pepppermint carrots when she broke into a sweat. Not that anyone knew what peppermint carrots smelled like, except possibly David.

"Stupidity like that might very well get one killed in Forumshire," Ringo averred, he having had some miltary training and knowing something of ginormous frogs.

"She's a goner for sure," cried Rodney.

"I find it utterly ridiculous to have a ginormous frog in this tale," Elthir said bitterly. "And as to Aleek smelling like peppermint carrot -- well, that's just creepy."

"I think it creepy that you can read my mind," Orwell said bad temperedly, (and I think he has a point!) "Hey, Elthir! Can you tell what I'm thinking now... {{{ }}}?"

"There's no grey or silver areas here, Orwell! That was really really disgusting! Even for you!"

"True... I only thought it to see if you could read my mind..."

"Couldn't you have thought about something nicer?"

"You know, I never thought of that!"

"Shut up you two," Eldo told them off. "Poor deluded Aleek is almost in tongue range of that ginormous frog. I fear for her! Help! Fear! Fire! Foes!"

"A nice girl, of course, would be wise to avoid such a potentially long and deadly tongue," Julia averred, as she had had some experience (apparently) of such things.

Suddenly, and possibly not all that unexpectedly, the ginormous frog rolled out it's ginormous tongue and Aleek was gone.

"That was a particularly satisfactory outcome," Orwell said.

"Oh no!" Amarie cried. "The frog is leaping toward us."

"I can see that!" David complained. "Why do people in these tales always state the obvious?"

Then zap zap zap zip zip zappy - all the Questers were inside the ginormous frog's tummy.

Now you might think it's a bit like Old Man Willow all over again, but you'd be wrong.

The ginormous frogs tummy was well appointed, true, but with so many Questers inside it, they were all quite cramped together. Orwell was squashed up against Aleek and she did smell like peppermint carrot after all. Or like peppermint and carrots anyway.

"What a horrid fate," Orwell said. "Fancy being digested with you of all people, Aleek. I find the mere thought quite undigestible!"

"Well they say the rain falls harder in Tennesee," Aleek whispered, "than it does in Alaska come the Fall."

"Does it really?" Orwell asked in surprise. "I thought it was the other way round."

Now the Questers were in a bad situation, make no mistake, but Amarie said, "What was it Old Chris said about skewers? And did he give us a song to call him?"

"He didn't actually," Lance commented.

"We'll just to make up one and hope he comes a 'bounding," Julia suggested as the ginormous frog's tummy muscles began to contract around them, crushing her to Petty (of all people) and squishing them in juices.

"Hey ho skewer-oh
big buttocks the booby,
Bright is your pendulums
and your legs are groovy,
Hey Chris
you big dick
come a'boundin'in the grasses,
I'm stuck inside a great big frog
with a bunch of arses!"


It was Lance singing, him being totally unaware that singing songs like that in Forumshire could get you killed --- or rescued sometimes....

In the distance came an answering call.

"Hey-oh bim-the-bo
All you dicks are dickie
Here I come - tum-te-tum -
with my pendulums
all sticky.
Hey frog - you big blob -
my skewers are for frog's legs
Hey no nerry-no
merry-oh the bobsleds!"


Then the point of a sharp ginormous skewer burst through the frog's tummy and, after just missing Aleek's ponytail, went thrusting back out the other side of the frog.

The frog let out aloud and plaintiff 'ribbet' and then it burst open like a fecund sporran to discharge the Questers on the grass of the mound.

"It's frog legs for lunch," cried Chris Bombadildo. And because he was magical, he created a huge barbecue on the moundside and magic coal to fuel it.

"Oh how ironic," Azriel said when they had cooked and eaten the frog. "Imagine us eating the frog when really the frog should have eaten us."

It wasn't really ironic, really, just fortunate, but no one said anything to Azriel, as they thought that might be a bit rude of them to mention.

"I hope we get out of here before midnight," said Eldo. "I'm scared of wights, you know."

"We all are," Elthir said. "We all are."

"Especially white bitches," Orwell commented.

"Do you think we'll end up having a second adventure then -- in the Barrow Downs I mean?" Rodney said, nervously.

But Chris Bombadildo burst into song immediately:

"Ho no the buck off
You silly little nuckoffs!
It's time to go,
You whores and hoes,
Off you go
just fuckoff!"



And shortly after that's exactly what they did.



l





Last edited by The Archet Bugle on Mon Nov 12, 2012 10:37 pm; edited 1 time in total
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WHOLESOME TALES - Page 39 Empty Re: WHOLESOME TALES

Post by halfwise Mon Nov 12, 2012 10:37 pm

'Suddenly, and possibly not all that unexpectedly, the ginormous frog rolled out it's ginormous tongue and Aleek was gone.

"That was a particularly satisfactory outcome," Orwell said.'

Hurr durr

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Post by Mrs Figg Tue Nov 13, 2012 1:59 am

"A nice girl, of course, would be wise to avoid such a potentially long and deadly tongue," Julia averred, as she had had some experience (apparently) of such things''

yeah making up stories like that in Forumshire could get you killed. a lot. Mad
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WHOLESOME TALES - Page 39 Empty Re: WHOLESOME TALES

Post by RA Tue Nov 13, 2012 2:10 am

Laughing These are funny.

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Post by Pettytyrant101 Tue Nov 13, 2012 2:27 am

Dont be fooled RA! Its just a blatant attempt to win an award- they never used to be funny. Very Happy

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