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TRF Christmas Party!
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<blockquote data-quote="Rugby_Cymru" data-source="post: 89999"><p>Hang on, that would mean i'd have to cross the border to the Evil Land.</p><p></p><p>Folks 'round here say that those who travel 'cross the border face ungodly consequences for the unholy act they act upon themselves and their country.</p><p>It's stated in a short poem,</p><p></p><p>"Folks who travel 'cross the border,</p><p> Face ungodly consequences,</p><p> For the unholy act they place upon themselves, </p><p> And their country."</p><p></p><p>I daren't say the tales i've upon a whisper, but 'round 'ere in the Holy Welsh Land it's been said that anything east of Cardiff is E*n*g*l*i*s*h...and those be wicked lands!</p><p>Many times i've 'eard older folk saying how John Bach and Dai once took it upon themselves to cross the border. Alas, the gentlefolk did not dare cross t'other side during the darkened hours, but took it upon themselves to trek upon twilight. It was said that upon such giddying hours, where everything looks romantic, the evil-that-no-one-should-speak-of hunted down the pure souls and with one deep breath took away their accents. They now roam the streets as white as the ghosts that doth haunt us carrying nothing but their clothes on their back and a red rose in their hands.</p><p></p><p>The land of the red rose!</p><p></p><p>Our trustworthy HeadFather claims wicked magic be used willy nilly 'cross that border; that the wicked folk, the evil-that-no-one-should-speak-of treat their lamb not as companions but as mere mastication aides. </p><p>T'other sex be cavorting on the streets, preying upon the desperate and lonley flaunting their delicacies for a reasonable price.</p><p>People dress differently 'cross the border. Not all folk have to wear dresses and they don't retire every night amongst all the other animals.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes i have commented openly about whether the wicked place 'cross the border is all that bad.</p><p>I usually get flogged 2 dozen times for such thoughts - i have learnt not to think out loud anymore.</p><p></p><p>Everynight before i sleep i think about the land of the red rose, where people wear things other than dresses and where they treat women like sheep and sheep like carrier bags.</p><p></p><p>THAT'S IT! </p><p>I shall attend your Christmas party you speak of. What ungodly rituals you'll perform there i have no idea but if there's one time of year my HeadFather will forgive me it would be at christmas time where for one day of the year i shall only recieve a dozen floggings, instead of 2 dozen.</p><p>I could make the excuse i wanted to buy a flower for my dear wooly companion.</p><p></p><p></p><p>...Oh, how she would CHERISH a red rose.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rugby_Cymru, post: 89999"] Hang on, that would mean i'd have to cross the border to the Evil Land. Folks 'round here say that those who travel 'cross the border face ungodly consequences for the unholy act they act upon themselves and their country. It's stated in a short poem, "Folks who travel 'cross the border, Face ungodly consequences, For the unholy act they place upon themselves, And their country." I daren't say the tales i've upon a whisper, but 'round 'ere in the Holy Welsh Land it's been said that anything east of Cardiff is E*n*g*l*i*s*h...and those be wicked lands! Many times i've 'eard older folk saying how John Bach and Dai once took it upon themselves to cross the border. Alas, the gentlefolk did not dare cross t'other side during the darkened hours, but took it upon themselves to trek upon twilight. It was said that upon such giddying hours, where everything looks romantic, the evil-that-no-one-should-speak-of hunted down the pure souls and with one deep breath took away their accents. They now roam the streets as white as the ghosts that doth haunt us carrying nothing but their clothes on their back and a red rose in their hands. The land of the red rose! Our trustworthy HeadFather claims wicked magic be used willy nilly 'cross that border; that the wicked folk, the evil-that-no-one-should-speak-of treat their lamb not as companions but as mere mastication aides. T'other sex be cavorting on the streets, preying upon the desperate and lonley flaunting their delicacies for a reasonable price. People dress differently 'cross the border. Not all folk have to wear dresses and they don't retire every night amongst all the other animals. Sometimes i have commented openly about whether the wicked place 'cross the border is all that bad. I usually get flogged 2 dozen times for such thoughts - i have learnt not to think out loud anymore. Everynight before i sleep i think about the land of the red rose, where people wear things other than dresses and where they treat women like sheep and sheep like carrier bags. THAT'S IT! I shall attend your Christmas party you speak of. What ungodly rituals you'll perform there i have no idea but if there's one time of year my HeadFather will forgive me it would be at christmas time where for one day of the year i shall only recieve a dozen floggings, instead of 2 dozen. I could make the excuse i wanted to buy a flower for my dear wooly companion. ...Oh, how she would CHERISH a red rose. [/QUOTE]
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