www.boxertrix.com

If HJR1100s can tell us what album.....

"Told my girl, I had to forget her, gotta buy me a new carburettor"

came from..... Why can"t GROMIT tell us "where the cows go bong" and BLACKALL tell us why we have all had our tea"?

I lose sleep over such things..

Stuart

The cows go bong in the ning nang nong...

(I thought everyone knew that???)

Ah, good old Spike, I miss him, R.I.P

Steve

Boxered wrote:Ah, good old Spike, I miss him, R.I.P

Steve

Indeed Steve - he really was, and always will be one of my heroes. A man who walked a very thin line between normality and total insanity - as a genius often does.

'The boy stood on the burning deck,
When all but he had fled...

Twit!!'

snavetrauts wrote:"Told my girl, I had to forget her, gotta buy me a new carburettor"

...hope you can find some sleep now...

Queen. A Night At The Opera 1975

I'm In Love With My Car
(Dedicated to Johnathan Harris, boy racer to the end)

The machine of a dream, such a clean machine,
With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam.
When I'm holding your wheel,
All I hear is your gear,
When my hand's on your grease gun,
Oh it's like a disease son,
I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile,
Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar,
Such a thrill when your radials squeal.

Told my girl I just had to forget her,
Rather buy me a new carburettor,
So she made tracks sayin' this is the and now,
Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now,

When I'm holding your wheel,
All I hear is your gear,
When I'm cruisin' in overdrive,
Don't have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive,

I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile,
I'm in love with my car, string back gloves in my automolove!

snavetrauts wrote:... and BLACKALL tell us why we have all had our tea"?

I lose sleep over such things..

Stuart

I'll be carelessly presumptuous and answer for BlackAl. It's quite simple really. The residents of Edinburgh are perceived by most other caledonians as having a reserved, seemingly superiour demeanour and a distinctly un-caledonian lack of hospitality, enhanced by an almost Aberdonian parsimony. Hence, when visiting an Edinburgher in his own home, one is likely to meet with the rhetorical question:
"hello, come in, er.... you'll have had your tea"

I hope that's clarified that.

...OK Stuart ; next problem...

Cheers Stevie, I felt bloody sure it was Mary talking to Dr Finlay... glad I did'nt say anything now.

I thought it was the Yorkshire lot that were thrifty and cannie

RoLoo....I will work one out for you personally..... although I am a bit nervous of the dutch..... I cam home one evening (a long time ago) and I discovered a guy rogering my first true love... I've got his name if you want it.

Stuart

It's poetry RoLoo, isn't it

Poetry with the smell of oil, grease and gasoline ....

HJ

snavetrauts wrote:I thought it was the Yorkshire lot that were thrifty and cannie

Ah, what's an Edinburgh man - it's a Yorkshireman with the generosity squeeezed out of him....

I have to say that, my wife's from the west coast!!

snavetrauts wrote:...I am a bit nervous of the dutch...

…yes, yes, yes ; you should be..., always keep an eye on those Dutch…

''A man who walked a very thin line between normality and total insanity''
says Gromit.

Spike used to say that he had a certificate proving he was sane (having been looked at by various trick cyclists), and then ask the question, can you?

What he said about The Prince of Wales at that award ceremony cracked me up ....... only Spike could say that and get away with it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7b6QqlJvYk

''I cam home one evening (a long time ago) and I discovered a guy rogering my first true love... I've got his name if you want it.''

Hey Stuart, did you get the name of the Dutch guy as well?

Vocals by Roger Taylor rather than Freddy Mercury. I always liked that song and the early Queen stuff.

At the risk of having this booted to the humour stack:

Three guys go into a bar, an Aberdonian, a Dundonian, and ane o' they posh b*st*rds fae Embra (Ich bin kein Edinburger). They each order a pint of heavy.

When the Edinburgh man's pint arrives he sees a fly in the froth. "Disgusting!" he cries, and walks out.

When the Dundonian's pint arrives, he too sees a fly floating in it. Contemptuously he flicks it out and drinks the pint.

When the Aberdonian's pint arrives, there's a fly floating in that too. He glares, picks it up a couple of inches by one wing, and shouts to it, "Spit it OOT, ye wee thief!"

M-o-M