Ranger1 Nov 2006

That's some nice editing!

My grammar is lovely. When she was younger she could sing all twenty-three verses of 'Hooplah, Hooplah, Where's My Fucking Hooplah?' while making Sunday roast for an entire workhouse's population of orphans. Of course, in those days the rationing system didn't extend to orphans, miscreants, tramps or other undesirables so they had to roast an orphan every week. Occasionally they'd get lucky and a German pilot would come crashing down, screaming and burning in the wreckage. Those Germans are so full of chocolate and bratwurst they can feed an entire plantation's worth of GCSE-mentality controversial poets, can't they? With ketchup!!!!!!!11 LOL!!!!!!11111oneoneoneoneonehundredandone!!!



She never got her Hooplah.