Can you say runt? I hope so, I like runt.

Barbabus you little runt!

Barbabus, I like that.

It was supposed to say Barbanus, sorry.

Is this possible? I know cats have barbed penises (or should that be penii?) that's why there's so much yowling.

I once did see some barbed chastity belts. Youch, too late.

I love Alex, hope I'm as feisty at his age.
In other football news, looks like Barmbys gone. Shame.

I can't stand ferguson gobby idiot he is and there is loads of conspiracy theories going on with barmy and the allams

I like him, can't beat a bit of arrogance in a man who knows what he's doing.
Love him or loathe him, he's he most successful football managers of our time & has introduced some great players along his way.

Blue Moon.

Pinch, punch and all that crap.

A friend of mine has just found out he's got testicular cancer, he's only 32. Getting checking your balls everyone.

I haven't any but I'll be sure to have a feel of my breasts, thanks for raising awareness.

I've just dropped a Rich Tea in my brew, I knew I shouldn't have dunked.
Hob Nobs from now on.

the problem with that is you wont have any tea left they are like sponges

Live and learn.


Either taking friday off as holiday or doing loads Thursday or Friday, depending on progress a colleague makes today. Advancement of science or a nice lie-in...

Didn't think of that. Bourbons are good but I'd be in danger of eating the whole packet. Don't like Garibaldis.

Lie in every time. Science is very over rated IMO.

Hell yeah. Completely ruined unicorns and dogheads, for a start.

Don't worry. Prince Charles has a science-free haven in his Highgrove garden. MR should visit there for true relaxation away from the influence of work.

I always hate it when I miss a digital clock displaying "12:34", missed it today. Balls.

Is that because it's far as you can count you silicone enhanced scouring pad face?

The people have spoken, everyone wants it - here is the new poetry thread. Not that anyone was offended before, but try not to get too personal - keep it open and spread the culture.

This is titled, 'Welcome Back'.

Alive again Mr Poetry Thread,
It made me sad to think you dead.

Reincarnated like a biblical son,
Your opening means the people have won.

Welcome back culture thread,
Fine words we shall spread.

[iBarnabus 2012[/i

When the moon is on the wave,
And the glow-worm in the grass,
And the meteor on the grave,
And the wisp on the morass;
When the falling stars are shooting,
And the answer'd owls are hooting,
And the silent leaves are still
In the shadow of the hill,
Shall my soul be upon thine,
With a power and with a sign.

Though thy slumber may be deep,
Yet thy spirit shall not sleep;
There are shades which will not vanish,
There are thoughts thou canst not banish;
By a power to thee unknown,
Thou canst never be alone;
Thou art wrapt as with a shroud,
Thou art gather'd in a cloud;
And for ever shalt thou dwell
In the spirit of this spell.

Though thou seest me not pass by,
Thou shalt feel me with thine eye
As a thing that, though unseen,
Must be near thee, and hath been;
And when in that secret dread
Thou hast turn'd around thy head,
Thou shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel
Shall be what thou must conceal.

And a magic voice and verse
Hath baptiz'd thee with a curse;
And a spirit of the air
Hath begirt thee with a snare;
In the wind there is a voice
Shall forbid thee to rejoice;
And to thee shall night deny
All the quiet of her sky;
And the day shall have a sun,
Which shall make thee wish it done.

From thy false tears I did distil
An essence which hath strength to kill;
From thy own heart I then did wring
The black blood in its blackest spring;
From thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
For there it coil'd as in a brake;
From thy own lip I drew the charm
Which gave all these their chiefest harm;
In proving every poison known,
I found the strongest was thine own.

By thy cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,
By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy;
By the perfection of thine art
Which pass'd for human thine own heart;
By thy delight in others' pain,
And by thy brotherhood of Cain,
I call upon thee! and compel
Thyself to be thy proper Hell!

And on thy head I pour the vial
Which doth devote thee to this trial;
Nor to slumber, nor to die,
Shall be in thy destiny;
Though thy death shall still seem near
To thy wish, but as a fear;
Lo! the spell now works around thee,
And the clankless chain hath bound thee;
O'er thy heart and brain together
Hath the word been pass'd--now wither!

[iGeorge Gordon Lord Byron[/i 1817

[uKeal Carlile[/u

Keal Carlile,
Handsome smile,
Ginger hair,
I don't care.

Number 9,
Biding time,
Awaiting chance,
To make a stance.

Distribution,
Execution,
Scoots & dummy runs,
I love Keal Carlile the best,
I'd like to have his sons.

Edith, KC#1Fan, 2012z