I love it. Especially the little detour into Garyalan (the Leicester business has been a key topic of conversation chez casa Demelza in the last few days, and I always just want to go 'But it's Gary! He should be off with Alan! On the sunbeds!')
DEMELZA: Hang on, aren't those my socks?
I *knew* it. Never trust someone from Sheffield around your footwear. I shall have to have words wi'him next week.
And I shall check my arse for Post-its thoroughly. (Now there's a sentence you don't hear often!)
I never did tell you about turning on Wimbledon this summer, and there were Gary and Alan sitting in the crowd watching the game, looking oh-so-darling!
Are you accusing me of being: - menacing? - obsessed by the black mesh shirt? - nasty-booted? - an Auld Witch? - all of the above?
... just checking.
I laughed so hard the cat threw up. I blame the earthworms. Thanks to demelzagirl for having a birthday! And for being in touch with her Cornish heritage trail of course.
And, y'know, we shouldn't malign lazulus for her kitten-gnawed tennis shoes. I have residentevil666-gnawed hands.
:chokes: Have almost killed self by trying not to laugh outloud while chewing gum. (randomly: In France they had Chewing Gum flavoured Ice-cream. Mmm. Sounds delicious...) I managed not laugh (read: cackle in a highly disturbing manner) but I swallow the gum and spent the next 5 minutes choking. Ta.
Other than that. Ahahahahaha. The *post-it notes* only...
Do you have any idea just how hard I laughed at this? I just about fell off my chair, you psycho Pom. *g* Was trying to find specific bits to comment on, but just kept giggling, so will try to flee while I still have some shred of dignity remaining.
Oh, wait. *waves her flamed, buckled and fuck-off boots in the air* I have footwear. Can I join?
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I love it. Especially the little detour into Garyalan (the Leicester business has been a key topic of conversation chez casa Demelza in the last few days, and I always just want to go 'But it's Gary! He should be off with Alan! On the sunbeds!')
DEMELZA: Hang on, aren't those my socks?
I *knew* it. Never trust someone from Sheffield around your footwear. I shall have to have words wi'him next week.
And I shall check my arse for Post-its thoroughly. (Now there's a sentence you don't hear often!)
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And there's you telling me to resist the E.L.F. pervert...
Oh yes, and happy birthday Demelza!
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- menacing?
- obsessed by the black mesh shirt?
- nasty-booted?
- an Auld Witch?
- all of the above?
... just checking.
I laughed so hard the cat threw up. I blame the earthworms. Thanks to demelzagirl for having a birthday! And for being in touch with her Cornish heritage trail of course.
And, y'know, we shouldn't malign lazulus for her kitten-gnawed tennis shoes. I have residentevil666-gnawed hands.
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- menacing?
- obsessed by the black mesh shirt?
- nasty-booted?
- an Auld Witch?
- all of the above?
I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may get beaten up (oops, what a giveaway!).
I have residentevil666-gnawed hands.
That's funny, he's perfectly nice to me.
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Other than that. Ahahahahaha. The *post-it notes* only...
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Oh, wait. *waves her flamed, buckled and fuck-off boots in the air* I have footwear. Can I join?
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(They may have to change their name to the Justice League of Slash.)
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