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I thought he’d perished heroically in Mosul 18 years ago, driving his platoon’s flaming Humvee away from an orphanage to spare the lives of the innocent.Originally posted by mondo_notion View PostAnd Donald Rumsfeld dies
I hope Beelzebub’s prodding the Rumsfeld scrotum with a white-hot trident and soothing the burns with jabby nettles, for eternity, plus extra time.
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History seems to have been kind to him and Bush Jnr.Originally posted by 57vintage View PostI thought he’d perished heroically in Mosul 18 years ago, driving his platoon’s flaming Humvee away from an orphanage to spare the lives of the innocent.
I hope Beelzebub’s prodding the Rumsfeld scrotum with a white-hot trident and soothing the burns with jabby nettles, for eternity, plus extra time.
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****ing hell, 50 (FIFTY) years ago today since Jim Morrison broke on through to the other side? “Having a waank in the bath” Billy Connolly once claimed.
All gendarme leave in Nation will be cancelled today to keep the hordes of zoomers, ghouls and grave-robbers away from that already-descreated corner of Pèrelachaise berryin ground.
Old, have mem’ries to keep all cold away…
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Jim’s is fenced in for security, nae far fae the Blvd de Charonne entrance and last time I was there (2004, I think) there were all sorts of freaks lurking around it.Originally posted by InversneckieDob View PostI went to Pearly Shez once, got lost looking for Morrison's grave and found Chopin's.
I had a good wander around. Doffed the cap to the graves of Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde, and Molière and others whom I’ve forgotten.
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T'was the late 80s I was there, nae fencing nae security then.Originally posted by 57vintage View PostJim’s is fenced in for security, nae far fae the Blvd de Charonne entrance and last time I was there (2004, I think) there were all sorts of freaks lurking around it.
I had a good wander around. Doffed the cap to the graves of Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde, and Molière and others whom I’ve forgotten.
Fair few weird looking gadgies hanging about, like.
I saw Edith Piaf's grave, as I recall, but after a while the lure of mair peeve proved insurmountable so we took our leave.
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My 2004 trip included two memorable seshes with Shep - one of which occurred on le Quatorze Juillet - in his pal Steve's Auld Alliance boozer. I think that was when I eventually realised what binge-drinking was, and the utter folly thereof.Originally posted by InversneckieDob View Postmair peeve
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Binge drinking in Paris....oh the stories.
It's the fact that you can always find places that never close that really catches you out.
The Grand Cafe beside the opera.
When you go to the bogs, you're faced with mirrors reflecting the urinals at the back wall.
No, I never have pished on the mirrors but it's been bloody close.
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