egafd.com

fudgeflaps wrote:

> So, you like your polymers then?
>
Yes indeed "polymers " do in fact help keep me hard in so many ways!!

Sorry for the rant,im sure I will regret it in the morning!!

Glad to see your still loitering around these parts young fudgey!!

Hope your as well and safe as (im sure) you deserve to be

BB

No option buddy, recharging from latest stint offshore! Almost got the body-clock right.

We will soldier on, BB. Take it easy.

Well, we need a plan for a proper dignified protest.

My schedule for protest:

- Up early, get the grass cut- thoroughly, edges and all. I will have to use my petrol strimmmer which belches out the smoke, and the 4-star lawnmower which has great effciency. I will don my pre-printed T-shirt, which will bear the slogans: "Face the facts, cut petrol tax; bludgeon the 4x4's with 2x4's; more smoke is a joke, no fuel in your hearth to respect Earth; Brown you effin foool, cut the price of our fucking fuel!" When I finish, and wave away the smoke and take off my gas-mask, I'll tell my neighbour to stop disrespecting the environment by burning those fuckin tyres. Again.

-Getting to the protest.

My car will be dollied up with flags, bunting etc bearing the above phrases and more, protagonistic militant ones too. I will be pushed for time, and will have to get there quick, my presence counts too! So, whoooooooops unfortunately, this will entail breaking the speed limit by driving at a steady 110. I will run my gears hard, I'll have to, especially 4th and 5th. It will then dawn on me that my prankster neighbour, the other one, has stuffed an oily
rag down my exhaust pipe. Wondered why I couldn't see through the rear-view, thought it was just an exceptionally cloudy day.

-At the protest.

It will go okay for an hour, but a lot of the guys will be wanting lunch. As I'm the only one who had the sense to bring a car, I volunteer my services. Most will want a McDonalds, the nearest being 27 miles away involving a ferry crossing. So, I do a cheeky 115, maxing out the gears and proudly displaying my bunting and flags. I have tos top at ap etrol station, my car ("Madge", really!!) is a fecking guzzly greedy wee girl. ?40 worth at ?1.45 a litre. On the ferry, an impressive beast which must require so much power and, er, fuel, to run especially with all our cars on board. I get to McDonalds, stuff my car gunnels-full with meals, making my car much heavier and energy intensive to propel. I do the return trip at an average of 121mph.

-Back at the protest.

I dish out the meals, we scoff away. It's good and we're happy- then the rozzers intervene and it all kicks off- badly. Out come the molitovs and petrol bombs, and I flee this dire scene.

-On the way home!

The bunting and flags are singed and burnt. You can see snippets of the phrases, and my wheels reek of parffins and hydrocarbons as I had to drive through some stray molitov spillages. I muse on the irony of the snail-like trail of volatile fluid, ponging of napthalene-type compounds extending down the road, grin, and shake my head, then............. BANG!! There's an explosion, the engine in flames. I get out of the car with my eco-unfriendly CO2 extinguisher in hand and put the bastard fire out.

I call the AA to get me up the road. They arrive in a big-pick-up truck; like the ferry, a big beastie. The guys have a look, and tell me the call-out doesn't require a pickup vehicle. I just need to siphon the engine, and drain the fuel because, in my rush to get the ferry to McDonalds, I filled a petrol engine with diesel. The remaining unleaded in the tank allowed it to ignite and combust.

Back home, at last. Watch telly, feet up- but for the last few hours, there has been an intermittent whirring sound. Flatmate comes in an says some daft cunt has left the petrol strimmer on all day.

A good, successful hard-fought campaign.

That was a mere jobby of the mind- came out smoothly, but better out than in. The bigger ones do take their time.

!wink! !tumbleweed!

Fudgie- you fucking genius you! !bow! !bow! !bow!

LMFAO

Next week Electricity

?Fuck me your nowt but a fucking chave yourself. As I have stated befor your a "one trick pony" and now we find out your the master of chavs, you sad,sad twat.?

My dear Wheeley, the tone of your post suggests that I may have offended you, though the precise nature of the offence remains somewhat opaque - are you by any chance a relation of Gordon ?Bottler? Brown?

I must say I?m surprised at your vitriolic accusations of chavry, since I?ve made no secret of my humble ?chave? origins ? indeed I positively celebrate them. The only differences between me and the shell-suited git in the white Vauxhall Nova are my fondness of reading and my anomalous capability for abstract thought. However, this does give me an uncommon advantage in being able to view the world clearly, unclouded by middleclass guilt or delusions of morality.

I?m not sure what you mean by my being a ?one trick pony? ? maybe you would care to expand on that, so that I might give a properly considered response?

Wheeley, you are obviously a man of letters ? while I am akin to the field of ripe summer corn that so readily succumbs to the flashing blade of your rapier like wit. I am little more than a humble pretender, a mere mortal who fair pales in the shadow of your literary charm, insight, and wisdom. Sir, I beseech you, please indulge this unworthy ?chave? pretender. Share with me the secrets of your scintillating posts, so that in a thousand and one years I too might be able to pen posts as humorous, informative, and entertaining as your good self. My dear Sir, you are a legend on this forum and I pray that you will long continue to regale us with tales of daring do, deep insight, and sublime comedy. The floor is yours?





Officer Dibble