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Post by Daphne on Oct 17, 2011 17:28:08 GMT
"Ello, 'ello, is that the coppers? I got somefink for you and I don't tell no whoppers - That fatboy Billy Bunter from Number 4 'E won't be coming 'ome no more 'Cos I 'eard 'im 'aving a row wiv 'is Dad, old Zorro And 'e won't be seen about the place tomorrow." Thus poor old Fat Boy Billy from Number 4 Is in three black bags laid outside their door; So come along and get him, coppers, Before the urban foxes get all stressy With their great big canine choppers Which will make it well and proper messy.
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Post by alex on Oct 17, 2011 23:13:50 GMT
I couldn't help thinking this poem has been cut short... another verse perhaps?
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Post by Daphne on Oct 18, 2011 9:56:04 GMT
No that was all I wrote. But I could try and add one when the muse strikes me - or to be more accurate next time I am totally paralytic on strong liquor.
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Post by alex on Oct 21, 2011 15:31:35 GMT
still waiting... !
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Post by Ponia-šiknius on Oct 21, 2011 16:29:22 GMT
In my old country we loved the goats. There is an old Lithuanian proverb (I translate from Lithuanian)...
He who does not love the goat is not worthy of a kiss.
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Post by Daphne on Dec 2, 2011 11:55:05 GMT
What a lovely thought, Ponia.
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