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The Elevator Most Belonging To Alice - Semi Final Bluecat, Runner Up Nashville Inner Journey - Page Awards Finalist - Bluecat semi final Grieving Spell - winner - London Film Awards. Third - Honolulu Ultimate Weapon - Fresh Voices - second place IMDb link... http://www.imdb.com/name/nm7062725/?ref_=tt_ov_wr
I have my biscuits, and now word from my long lost son. I would never call any child of mine Iam. You're likely to find soon that your real name is Elvis, or perhaps Freddie, depending on how drunk I was at the time. I would tell you who the father is, but I can only narrow it down to around twelve. I was busy back then.
Enough of that. Many thanks. I'm getting older, but sharper. Alas, if only I could say the same about my bladder.
Most kind. I sincerely thank you all. Now, I'm off to search for my missing car. Don't worry, I've several packs of bourbons and two packs of garibaldis to sustain me.
I'll spend some time with my goats later. Wonderfu creatures. Almost as good as dogs.
I have my keys. Makes a change, doesn't it? Alas, my shoes elude me. But there's loads of barefoot lunatics round here, so I fit in perfectly.
Special thanks to CM, noted and remembered. Most kind. Do I owe you money or something?
I bet you thought you're done with your thank you's? I'm purposefully late to this - yes! But I wish you have had (or whatever the tense it here) a very happy birthday! And I hope it was a special one with friends and all.
I hope you got the bass out, threw on your crumpled, ripped, stained, faded Clash t-shirt and laid down a few funky grooves (complete with cocksure, pelvic trusting stance) in celebration of your emerging-from-vagina day.
Well, you made it... looks like I lost that bet then. Good for you. I'll be betting for you next time.
I did make it. Didn't much fancy the alternative.
You bet against? Yes, I can understand that. I wouldn't bet on me either. Still, you never can tell. I managed to go a whole day without losing my keys last week.
I hope you got the bass out, threw on your crumpled, ripped, stained, faded Clash t-shirt and laid down a few funky grooves (complete with cocksure, pelvic trusting stance) in celebration of your emerging-from-vagina day.
How dare you. I wouldn't touch a bass. I go nowhere near the the tool of ignorance. I did get my Kay Angus Young copy out, that's a guitar by the way, not a steak. One day I may even learn how to tune it.
You wouldn't catch me in a Clash t-shirt either. It's not that I run fast in one. Posh London boys pretending to be working class didn't rock my kasbah. I was more of a Faith No More fan. Alas, my pelvis thrusting is less cocksure than it used to be. Still, it always makes my better half laugh.
Haven't been near a vagina in quite some time. Well, I was within a few feet of one yesterday, but you know what I mean. Hmm, as Billy Connolly was once said - Vagina, sounds like a nice place, doesn't it? It bloody well is too.
Am teaching school again (ages 11, 12, 13), so I don't have the strength to say any more than this: Happy Birthday, Ren.
Henry
Fair enough. I understand. A fine vocation. Many thanks to you and everyone who commented. To those that didn't: I have your names and I'm compiling a shit list. It'll be going in the shit cupboard as I'm too old to hold a grudge.
Now, I'm off to bake a cake. And yes, that isn't a euphemism.
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Happy Birthday Rendevous
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