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Author Topic: The Monty Thread....  (Read 4857 times)
Jon
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12,3@174km/t at Gardermoen 2008


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« on: April 20, 2008, 00:56:55 am »

What? The curtains?Huh
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Grumpy old men have signatures like this.
Rick Meredith
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We can't force ya to have fun


« Reply #1 on: April 20, 2008, 06:29:56 am »

Listen, lad. I built this kingdom up from nothing.
When I started here, all there was was swamp. Other kings said I was daft to build a castle on a swamp, but I built it all the same, just to show 'em.
It sank into the swamp. So, I built a second one. That sank into the swamp.
So, I built a third one. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp, but the fourth one... stayed up!
And that's what you're gonna get, lad: the strongest castle in these islands.
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67 Beetle - The Deuce Roadster of Cal Look
Svwerker
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« Reply #2 on: April 20, 2008, 13:00:00 pm »

Riding on a horse? You're using coconuts! Grin
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Fastbrit
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Keep smiling...


« Reply #3 on: April 20, 2008, 13:16:07 pm »

But it's dead!

No, it's just resting...
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Der Kleiner Panzers VW Club    
12.56sec street-driven Cal Looker in 1995
9.87sec No Mercy race car in 1994
Seems like a lifetime ago...
Rennsurfer
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D.B.O. Not a club; a state of mind.


« Reply #4 on: April 20, 2008, 14:33:10 pm »

Sir Lancelot: We were in the nick of time. You were in great peril.
Sir Galahad: I don't think I was.
Sir Lancelot: Yes, you were. You were in terrible peril.
Sir Galahad: Look, let me go back in there and face the peril.
Sir Lancelot: No, it's too perilous.
Sir Galahad: Look, it's my duty as a knight to sample as much peril as I can.
Sir Lancelot: No, we've got to find the Holy Grail. Come on.
Sir Galahad: Oh, let me have just a little bit of peril?
Sir Lancelot: No. It's unhealthy.
Sir Galahad: I bet you're gay.
Sir Lancelot: Am not.
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"You can only scramble an egg so many ways."
~Sarge
Jon
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12,3@174km/t at Gardermoen 2008


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« Reply #5 on: April 20, 2008, 15:06:53 pm »

FOLLOWERS: Brian! Brian! Brian!...

BRIAN: Good morning.

FOLLOWERS: A blessing! A blessing! A blessing!...

BRIAN: No. No, please! Please! Please listen. I've got one or two things to say.

FOLLOWERS: Tell us. Tell us both of them.

BRIAN: Look. You've got it all wrong. You don't need to follow me. You don't need to follow anybody! You've got to think for yourselves. You're all individuals!

FOLLOWERS: Yes, we're all individuals!

BRIAN: You're all different!

FOLLOWERS: Yes, we are all different!

DENNIS: I'm not.

ARTHUR: Shhhh.

FOLLOWERS: Shh. Shhhh. Shhh.
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Grumpy old men have signatures like this.
Lee.C
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I might be an Idiot but I'm not an Arsehole!


« Reply #6 on: April 20, 2008, 15:49:55 pm »

" I fart in your general direction"  Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy, Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy, Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy, Cheesy Cheesy Cheesy
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You either "Get It" or you don't......
Black Sheep
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less is more


« Reply #7 on: April 20, 2008, 16:55:10 pm »

On Guard , " but you've lost both your arms " tis but a mere flesh wound  Grin Grin

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/teMlv3ripSM" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/v/teMlv3ripSM</a>

Enjoy the argument clinic  Grin Grin Grin Grin
« Last Edit: April 20, 2008, 16:58:03 pm by 49-rag » Logged

Stick with what you know works .
13.03 @ 98mph
Rick Meredith
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We can't force ya to have fun


« Reply #8 on: April 20, 2008, 19:33:31 pm »

Sir Lancelot: We were in the nick of time. You were in great peril.
Sir Galahad: I don't think I was.
Sir Lancelot: Yes, you were. You were in terrible peril.
Sir Galahad: Look, let me go back in there and face the peril.
Sir Lancelot: No, it's too perilous.
Sir Galahad: Look, it's my duty as a knight to sample as much peril as I can.
Sir Lancelot: No, we've got to find the Holy Grail. Come on.
Sir Galahad: Oh, let me have just a little bit of peril?
Sir Lancelot: No. It's unhealthy.
Sir Galahad: I bet you're gay.
Sir Lancelot: Am not.


Ooh, that's my second favorite scene in the Grail

DINGO:
     Oh, wicked, wicked Zoot. Oh, she is a naughty person  and she must pay the penalty, and here in Castle Anthrax, we have but one punishment for setting alight the grail-shaped beacon: you must tie her down on a bed and spank her.
GIRLS:
    A spanking! A spanking!
DINGO:
    You must spank her well, and after you have spanked her, you may deal with her as you like, and then, spank me.
AMAZING:
    And spank me.
STUNNER:
    And me.
LOVELY:
    And me.
DINGO:
    Yes. Yes, you must give us all a good spanking!
GIRLS:
    A spanking! A spanking! There is going to be a spanking tonight!
DINGO:
    And after the spanking, the oral sex.
GIRLS:
    The oral sex! The oral sex!
GALAHAD:
    Well, I could stay a bit longer.
Logged

67 Beetle - The Deuce Roadster of Cal Look
Jon
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12,3@174km/t at Gardermoen 2008


WWW
« Reply #9 on: April 20, 2008, 23:54:32 pm »

Constable: If I may begin at the beginning. First, there is the Cherry Fondue. Now
this is extremely nasty, but we can't
prosecute you for that!
Mr. Hilton: Agreed.
Constable: Next we have number four, "Crunchy Frog."
Mr. Hilton: Ah, yes.
Constable: Am I right in thinking there's a real frog in here?
Mr. Hilton: Yes, a little one.
Constable: Is it cooked?
Mr. Hilton: No.
Constable: What? A raw frog?
Mr. Hilton: We use only the finest baby frogs, due picked and flown from Iraq,
cleansed in the finest quality spring water,
lightly killed, and sealed in a ---- treble milk chocolate envelope, and lovingly
frosted with glucose!
Constable: That's as maybe, but it's still a frog!
Mr. Hilton: What else would it be?
Constable: What! Don't even take the bones out?
Mr. Hilton: If we took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?
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Grumpy old men have signatures like this.
Jon
Administrator
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Posts: 3214


12,3@174km/t at Gardermoen 2008


WWW
« Reply #10 on: April 28, 2008, 11:32:59 am »

The speech of the mildest of the tree doomsday prophets in life of brian:

BORING PROPHET: ...Obadiah, his servants. There shall, in that time, be rumours of things going astray, erm, and there shall be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will really know where lieth those little things wi-- with the sort of raffia work base that has an attachment. At this time, a friend shall lose his friend's hammer and the young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their fathers put there only just the night before, about eight o'clock. Yea, it is written in the book of Cyril that, in that time, shall the third one...

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Grumpy old men have signatures like this.
Rick Meredith
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We can't force ya to have fun


« Reply #11 on: April 28, 2008, 16:46:15 pm »

One of my favorite Python skits;


FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    Aye, very passable, that, very passable bit of risotto.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    Nothing like a good glass of Château de Chasselas, eh, Josiah?
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    You're right there, Obadiah.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Who'd have thought thirty year ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Château de Chasselas, eh?
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup o' tea.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    A cup o' cold tea.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Without milk or sugar.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    Or tea.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    In a cracked cup, an' all.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    Because we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness, son".
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Aye, 'e was right.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    Aye, 'e was.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    I was happier then and I had nothin'. We used to live in this tiny old house with great big holes in the roof.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    House! You were lucky to live in a house! We used to live in one room, all twenty-six of us, no furniture, 'alf the floor was missing, and we were all 'uddled together in one corner for fear of falling.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    Eh, you were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in t' corridor!
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    Oh, we used to dream of livin' in a corridor! Would ha' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woke up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House? Huh.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Well, when I say 'house' it was only a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    We were evicted from our 'ole in the ground; we 'ad to go and live in a lake.
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us living in t' shoebox in t' middle o' road.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    Cardboard box?
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    Aye.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    You were lucky. We lived for three months in a paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the paper bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down t' mill, fourteen hours a day, week-in week-out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home our Dad would thrash us to sleep wi' his belt.
SECOND YORKSHIREMAN:
    Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at six o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of 'ot gravel, work twenty hour day at mill for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would thrash us to sleep with a broken bottle, if we were lucky!
THIRD YORKSHIREMAN:
    Well, of course, we had it tough. We used to 'ave to get up out of shoebox at twelve o'clock at night and lick road clean wit' tongue. We had two bits of cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at mill for sixpence every four years, and when we got home our Dad would slice us in two wit' bread knife.
FOURTH YORKSHIREMAN:
    Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night half an hour before I went to bed, drink a cup of sulphuric acid, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill, and pay mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our Dad and our mother would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.
FIRST YORKSHIREMAN:
    And you try and tell the young people of today that ..... they won't believe you.
ALL:
    They won't!
Logged

67 Beetle - The Deuce Roadster of Cal Look
team97
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3M TA3


« Reply #12 on: April 28, 2008, 21:47:31 pm »

It's only a flesh wound!
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Der Kleiner Panzers III
D.K.K.
John Rayburn
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Der Kleiner Panzers


« Reply #13 on: April 29, 2008, 01:39:08 am »

Good one , Glenn.
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I also park at Nick's.
Black Sheep
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less is more


« Reply #14 on: April 29, 2008, 18:09:46 pm »

  The Parrot Sketch

          "Ello, I wish to register a complaint.

     (The owner does not respond.)

           'Ello, Miss?

     What do you mean "miss"?

            I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!

      We're closin' for lunch.

              Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

      Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?

              I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's wrong with it!

      No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.

              look here matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.

      No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!

              The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.

      Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!

               All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) 'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if you
               show...

     (owner hits the cage)

      There, he moved!

               No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!

     I never!!

               Yes, you did!

      I never, never did anything...

              (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!

              (Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)

               Now that's what I call a dead parrot.

      No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!

               STUNNED?!?

     Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues stun easily, major.

               Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
               ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein' tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.

      Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.

               PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?

     The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit, squire? Lovely plumage!

               Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the
               first place was that it had been NAILED there.

     (pause)

     Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
     VOOM! Feeweeweewee!

              "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!

     No no! 'E's pining!

               'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e
                rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the
                bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!

     (pause)

     Well, I'd better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh,
     we're right out of parrots.

               I see. I see, I get the picture.

     I got a slug.

     (pause)

                Pray, does it talk?

      Nnnnot really.

               WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?

      N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)

               Well.

     (pause)

     (quietly) D'you.... d'you want to come back to my place?

               (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.
Logged

Stick with what you know works .
13.03 @ 98mph
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