Discussion in 'Lets Meet!' started by Senan Molony, May 13, 2005.
You fella's DO have it hard, don't you?
NO! I didn't mean it in a se...
I am Leonardo, and I have to be saved in the end.
Millions of teenage girls demand it!
I also look like God, and I still have that woman hidden in my beard, so it will be a case of tuba two (yes, I'll be playing the tuba to hide my whiskers and disguise the fact that two are getting into the Ark for the price of one.)
I need to get away from all these bombs. What is it with the Irish? (Whoops! Bit political!)
I have no truck with militarism. I may have invented the helicopter, but that's the closest I ever got.
I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!
Yes, and I'm a celibate. Get me outta here!
I'm a sealion, get me out of here!
AAAIEEEE!!! Dean is the number of the Beast!
Post number 666
Apocalypse is upon us!
He is the ANTI-POLE revealed in the Book of the Da Vinci Code!
To the Ark!!
AAAIIEEE!!! It is the beast foretold by Dan Brown's bestseller and the dreaded horned Antipole familiar to anyone who has been on this thread long enough!
Did I say AAAIEEEE!!!
I've always known that the apocalypse was upon us:
I live in Darwen on the A666.
This building in itself is a potent symbol of the crude Satanic rituals that go on in this small town.
If by unanimous vote, Bondage does not gain a passage on the ark, I have designed my own.
Q is having trouble building the rainbow over it, though.
Anyone have God's e-mail address?
He won't answer my prayers.
Well, there goes the exorcism....
Never mind the Ark, I'm sprinting to Shelley's zeppelins.
Am I allowed to assume she has more than one of them?
Senan, I'm sorry....
It was St. Elmo's fire again.
Bondage HQ still hasn't heard from Shellypenny.
I told her to use helium! I told her!
Zeppelins- yes, I always have a pair at my command. Actually the hot air generated here is sufficient to inflate all cells, and infinitely superior to helium-although I might be afraid to light a match.I've been working undercover on this North Pole subversive front. I am getting nowhere with this elf who seems to know Godfrey.
Oh, and don't underestimate our frogs, apparently some Australian amphibs can suck up quantities of liquid (see link)http://members.optushome.com.au/kazoom/poetry/epic.html and retain it just eons, through droughts even - sounds about right for pub-crawling expeditions. Besides their boss looks like a mean hombre. I vote for Aunt Flora and the Amphibs.
This pair of Zeps you mention, Shellypenny...
Should Jordan be worried?
Don't worry about the beast. I'll roast him with some potatoes. Yes Senan there will be plenty of potatoes: mashed, fried, baked, boiled, au gratin
. . .
>>Don't worry about the beast. I'll roast him with some potatoes.<<
Taste just like chicken?
Not sure about The Beast, but I hear frog legs do actually.
24 pair small frog legs
1/2 tsp. salt
4 tbsp. paprika
1 1/2 c. flour
Vegetable oil or shortening
2 c. milk
Gently split frog legs apart and wash under cold running water. Blot thoroughly dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, mix milk, salt, and 2 tablespoons of paprika. Soak frog legs in mixture for 5 minutes. Combine flour and remaining paprika and place it on a sheet of waxed paper. In a heavy 12 inch skillet, heat the oil (use about 2 inches) over a high heat until a light haze forms. Dip frog legs in the seasoned flour. Shake loose excess flour and fry legs in hot oil for 5 minutes, turning them frequently with tongs. Regulate heat so that legs brown quickly without burning. Remove when golden brown and drain on paper towels. Serve hot with tartar sauce or lemon.
Of course this process tends to make the little rascals a tadpole neurotic...
>>Gently split frog legs apart<<
Ryan, don't you dare -- Shelley, I supposed we should have known that the final prophesies of the Da Vinci Code were about to be enacted when we saw lightning, explosions, eruptions, fire, death and flood.
Why are you killing off the frogs? The Beast is not going to be satisfied with a pathetic plateful of hors d'ouevres... he means to kill the whole lot of us!
He's already bashed the bishop (Now, Ryan, I'm seriously warning you...) and there's no telling what target his dread fangs will settle on next.
Open the gate, for starters. Let the llamas out.
That might distract for a while.
This thread has gone Jurassic Park and you haven't said where the last remaining Zeppelin is!
I blame Godfrey's wickedness for all this divinely-inspired end-time appallingness.
He put me with Inger and Nancy. It was him.
Oh no! He's reached the Ark!
What about Shackleton and the Gattling gun?
Think it would work?
Not a cat's chance. What we need is a secret weapon of devastating capability. I've engaged a specialist to look into it.
Separate names with a comma.