mervin

A friend of mine once built a canoe. He spent a long time on it and it was a work of art. Almost the final phase was to fill both ends with polyurethane expanding foam. He duly ordered the bits from Mr Glasplies (an excellent purveyor of all things fibreglass) and it arrived in two packs covered with appropriately dire warnings about expansion ratios and some very good notes on how to use it. Unfortunately he had a degree, worse still two of them. One was in Chemistry, so the instructions got thrown away and the other in something mathematical because in a few minutes he was merrily calculating the volume of his craft to many decimal places and the guidelines got binned as well. He propped the canoe up on one end, got a huge tin, carefully measured the calculated amounts of glop, mixed them and quickly poured the mixture in the end of the canoe (The two pack expands very rapidly). I arrived as he was completing this and I looked in to see the end chamber over half full of something Cawdors Witches would have been proud of. Two thing occurred to me, one was the label which said in big letters: "Caution - expansion ration 50:1" (or something similar) and the other that the now empty tins said "approximately enough for 20 small craft" Any comment was drowned out by a sea of yellow brown foam suddenly pouring out of the middle of the canoe and the end of the canoe bursting open. My friend screamed and leapt at his pride and joy which was knocked to the ground as he started trying to bale handfuls of this stuff out with his hands. Knocking the craft over allowed the still liquid and not yet fully expanded foam to flow to the other end of the canoe where it expanded and shattered that end as well. A few seconds later and we had a canoe with two exploded ends, a mountain of solid foam about 4ft high growing out of the middle, and a chemist firmly embedded up to his armpits in it. At this stage he discovered the reaction was exothermic and his hands and arms were getting very hot indeed. Running about in small circles in a confined space while glued to the remains of a fairly large canoe proved ineffective so he resorted to screaming a bit instead. Fortunately a Kukri was to hand so I attacked the foam around his hands with some enthusiasm. The process was hindered by the noise he was making and the fact he was trying to escape while still attached to the canoe. Eventually I managed to hack out a lump of foam still including most of his arms and hands. Unfortunately my tears of laughter were not helping as they accelerated the foam setting. Seeking medical help was obviously out of the question, the embarrassment of having to explain his occupation (Chief Research Chemist at a major petrochemical organisation) would simply never have been lived down. Several hours and much acrimony later we had removed sufficient foam (and much hair) to allow him to move again. However he still looked something like a failed audition for Quasimodo with red burns on his arms and expanded blobs of foam sticking everywhere. My comment that the scalding simple made the hairs the foam was sticking to come out easier was not met with the enthusiasm I felt it deserved. I forgot to add that in retrospect rather unwisely he had set out to do this deed in the hallway of his house (the only place he later explained with sufficient headroom for the canoe - achieved by poking it up the stairwell. Having extricated him we now were faced with the problem of a canoe construction kit embedded in a still gurgling block of foam which was now irrevocably bonded to the hall and stairs carpet as well as several banister rails and quite a lot of wallpaper. At this point his wife and her mother came back from shopping...... Oh yes - and he had been wearing the pullover Mum in law had knitted him for his birthday the week before.

Happy birthday Foamy Have a great day mate

I got the petseal out of my RD400 tank without damaging the paint,

there must be a reason why it was sealed in the first place, sound like they used petseal, and TBH you would be better off shitting in the tank than using that stuff, have a look here

I recognise some of the places in Cherbourg, spent some time wandering around there whilst waiting for ferries in the 1990,s

i am not sure which is saddest

I just got an email from Dave, Free shipping until 5 pm tomorrow evening( friday 19th oct ) so get in there with your orders quick lads

ok I cannot decide if this for real , if it is she needs locking up in a padded cell

Paddy and Colleen were making passionate love in Paddy's mini van when suddenly Colleen, being a bit on the kinky side, yells out, "Oh big boy, whip me, whip me!". Paddy, not wanting to pass up this unique opportunity, obviously did not have any whips on hand, but in a flash of inspiration, he opens the window, snaps the antenna off his van and proceeds to whip Colleen until they both collapse in ecstasy. About a week later, Colleen notices that the marks left by the whipping are starting to fester a bit so she goes to the doctor. The doctor takes one look at the wounds and asks, "Did you get these marks having sex"? Colleen, a little embarrassed that she has slept with Paddy (let alone that she allowed the kinky boy to whip her) eventually admits that, yes, she did. Nodding his head knowingly, the doctor exclaims, "I thought so, because in all my years as a doctor, you've got the worst case of van aerial disease that I've ever seen." I will get me coat

He could have ridden around that little stick if he had been paying attention, OK USEFUL TIP WHEREVER YOU ARE IN EUROPE 112 IS THE EMERGENCY NUMBER TO CALL, FROM A MOBILE, EVEN IN THE UK DO 112 THEY CAN TRACK YOUR MOBILE FROM THAT NUMBER BUT NOT FROM 999 i WAS TAUGHT THIS ON A FIRST AID COURSE RECENTLY

I love Skye, went to Uig several times collecting crabs, bloody cold in the winter but beautiful ,

Well the list continues to grow , Accusations made against Freddie Starr, Dave lee Travis ,john Peel, and Gary glitter (no surprise that one though)

You mean the ball of Kirriemuir TTTasky Lyrics The Ball Of Kirriemuir CHORUS: Singing: Balls to your partner, Ass against the wall, If you've never been laid on Saturday night, You've never been laid at all. The ball, the ball, the ball, the ball The ball of Kirriemuir There were four and twenty prostitutes Lying on the floor Four and twenty virgins, Came down from Inverness, And when the ball was over There were four and twenty less. The elders of the kirk arrived And were surprised to see Four-and-twenty maidenheads Hanging from a tree Four and twenty whores, Came up from Glockamore, And when the ball was over They were all of them double bore. The village plumber he was there, He felt an awful fool, He'd come eleven leagues or more And forgot to bring his tool. There was fucking in the hallways, And fucking in the ricks, You couldn't hear the music For the swishing of the pricks. They were fucking in the Barley. They were fucking in the oats. Some were fucking sheep, but most were fucking goats. There was fucking in the kitchen, And fucking in the halls, You couldn't hear the music for The clanging of the balls. There was fucking in the parlor, And fucking on the stairs, You couldn't see the carpet For the mass of public hairs. I put my head upon her lap, and she put hers in mine. We sucked a bit and blowed a bit and that's called sixty-nine. The parson's daughter she was there, The cunning little runt, With poison ivy up her ass And thistle up her cunt. The village whore she was there, Doing a really good stunt Stuck to the ceiling By the suction of her cunt. The village idiot he was there Sitting on a pole Pulled his foreskin over his head And whistled though the hole. The mayors wife she was there Lying on the floor Every time she spread he legs The suction closed the door Grandma and Grandpa they were there Sitting by the fire Knitting prophylactics Out of old rubber tires. The village postman he was there He had a case of the pox Couldn't fuck the women So he fucked a letter box. Little Tommy he was there He was only eight Couldn't fuck the women So he had to masturbate. The blacksmith's brother he was there A mighty stud was he Lined 'em up against the wall And fucked 'em three-by-three. The village hooker she was there Feeling mighty fine Lined 'em up against the wall And fucked 'em nine-by-nine. The village rugger he was there the mightiest of men Lined 'em up against the wall And fucked em ten-by-ten. The village magician he was there Up to his favorite trick Pulling his asshole over his head And standing on his prick. Father O'Flanagan he was there And in the corner sat Amusing himself by abusing himself And catching it in his hat. Dino had an even stroke His skill was much admired He gratified one cunt at a time Until his skill expired. Jock McVennig he was there A looking for a fuck But every cunt was occupied And he was out of luck. Michael Lee when he got the there His prick was long and high But when he fucked her forty times He was fucking mighty dry. McTavish, oh yes, he was there His prick was long and broad And when he fucked the furriers wife She had to be rebored. The village dogcatcher Proved he was no slouch Went out and caught the neighbors dog And fucked it on the couch. The village gynecologist he was there On a beaver hunt Pulled down all the women's pants And probed through all their cunts. The village dunce he was there All alone he stands Amusing himself by abusing himself And using both his hands. The village idiot he was there, Up to this and that, Amusing himself by abusing himself, And catching it in his hat. The bride was in the kitchen Explaining to the groom, The vagina not the rectum Is the entrance to the womb. The village magician he was there, Up to his favorite trick, Pulling his foreskin over his head, And disappearing up his prick. The village giant he was there, A mighty man was he, He lined them up against the wall And fucked them three by three. The vicar and his wife were there, Having lots of fun, The parson had his finger Up another lady's bun. The village doctor he was there, He had his bag of tricks, And in between the dances He was sterilizing pricks. Father O'Flanagan he was there, And in the corner he sat, Amusing himself by abusing himself And catching it in his had. There was fucking on the couches, There was fucking on the cots, And lying up against the wall Were rows of grinning twats. Giles he played a dirty trick, We cannot let it pass, He showed a lass his mighty prick Then shoved it up her ass. Mrs. O'Maley she was there, She had the crowd in fits, A jumping off the mantelpiece And bouncing off her tits. Jackie Stewart did his fucking, Right upon the moor, It was, he thought, much better Than fucking on the floor. Jock McDougall he was there, A looking for a fuck, But every quim was occupied And he was out of luck. The huntsman's daughter she was there, Tired from the hunt, A wreath of roses around her ass And a carrot up her cunt. The chimney sweep he was there, They had to throw him out, For every time he passed some wind The room was filled with soot. The village economist he was there, His prick held in his hand, Waiting for the moment when Supply would meet demand. The village blacksmith he was there, Sitting by the fire, Doing abortions by the score With a piece of red hot wire. The village postman he was there, The poor man had the pox, He couldn't fuck the lasses So he fucked the letter box. The blacksmith's father he was there, A roaring like a lion, He'd cut his cock off in the forge So he used his rod of iron. Dino had an even stroke, His skill was much admired, He fucked away half the night Until his cock expired. The village butcher he was there, Cleaver in his hand, Every time he turned around He circumcised the band. The village virgin she was there, All dressed in frilly pink, She took the boys behind the fence And made their fingers stink. Willy Roberts he arrived, His prick was all alert, But when the night was done "Twas dangling in the dirt." Now little Willy he was there, But he was only eight, He couldn't catch a harlot So he had to masturbate. The village veteran he was there, His balls were made of brass, And when he blew a fart, my lads, The sparks flew out his ass. Little Jimmy he was there, The leader of the choir, He hit the balls of all the boys To make their voices higher. The village leper he was there, Sitting on a log, Peeling foreskin off his cock And feeding it to his dog. Another blacksmith he was there, Tending to his fires, Making prophylactics Out of motorcycle tires. The village builder he was there, He brought his bag of tricks, He poured cement in all the holes And blunted all the pricks. The village cripple he was there, He wasn't very much, Took the girls behind the house And fucked them with his crutch. Wee MacGregor he was there, His pint of beer he'd split, It mingled with the semen That was trickling down his kilt. The mayor's daughter she was there, She had the crowd in fits, Sliding down the bannister And bouncing on her tits. The village stable boy he was there, The bastard was quite coarse, We caught him in the stable With his cock inside a horse. The village parson he was there, All dressed up in his shroud, Swinging on the chandalier Pissing on the crowd. And when the ball was over, What a sight to see, Four and twenty maidenheads A hanging from a tree. And when the ball was over, Everyone did confess, They all enjoyed the dancing But the fucking was the best. Mrs. O'Leary she was there, Swingin' from the chandelier, Spilling her menstrual juices Into everybody's beer. The village cook he was there, The bastard was quite crude, They caught him in the kitchen Masturbating in the food. The Jersey girl was standin' there, Her but against the wall, "Put your money on the table boys, I'm goin' to do youse all!" The parson's wife she was there, And she was worst of all, Pulled her skirt above her head And shouted, "fuck it all." The vicar's wife she was there, Sitting by the fire, Knitting contraceptives Out of india rubber tires. Sergeant Murphy he was there, The pride of the Force, They caught him behind the barn Jacking off a horse. The village whore, she was there Sitting on the floor, Every time she spread her legs, The vacuum shut the door And when the ball was over, All the guests confessed, The music was the finest But the fucking was the best. And so the ball was over, All went home to rest, The music had been exquisite Still the fucking was the best. And finally there was the Johnnie Rugger He seemed like quite a stud. But when it came to fucking His pecker was a dud. First lady over, Second lady front, Third ladies finger up the fourth ladies cunt. Well, McPhearson's band, they were there, A dishin' oot the licks, You cood na' hear a bloody thin' for the swishin' o' the pricks. Best Man in the corner, Instructin' to the Groom, "The vagina, not the rectum son, Is the entrance to the womb." The village whore she was there, A cunning little runt, With herpes sores and the clap on tap, She was na' mer' than a running cunt.

warm it up again before trying to remove it , with heat gun , or run the bike up ,

have you tried your local yam dealer or if you have the sizes www.simplybearings.co.uk

the only man ever to enter the houses of parliament with honest intentions

Hmm well I for one would not want it, radical looks, but unrideable, his dream bike has 9 wheels, Hold on BI cycle 2 Wheels , 9 becomes Juggernaut, gimme some of what he is on please, i want a 44 ton lorry on 2 wheels, and knobbly tyres

It can only be a matter of time before Boris Johnson's mum comes forward and tells us that she was raped by Jimmy Savile in 1963. Rolf Harris has been reported for doing 2 little boys in the seventies now

no helmet, what a dork, I would not want to go 7 rounds with that woman either

This has been posted on the Rd forum so i thought i would let all here know, as Ymabits has far to much stuf now to bring to the show and it wastes a week sorting stuff out each side of the show, and he gets a backlog of orders to sort when he gets back we will be offering free UK postage for a couple of days to customers using the website. Rather that be just specific to club members this will apply to anyone with a shipping address in the UK so spread the word Thursday 18th and Friday 19th of October

Have a search on fleabay there maybe a pattern ign switch at a reasonable price

Feck me i thought they all got locked up for child molesting or summat.

High art the stupid bleeder that made it must have been high

the bike is taxed and still in use by the looks of it he vehicle details for B13 GTT are: Date of Liability 01 01 2013 Date of First Registration 06 06 1996 Year of Manufacture 1996 Cylinder Capacity (cc) 849cc CO2 Emissions Not Available Fuel Type PETROL Export Marker N Vehicle Status Licence Not Due Vehicle Colour YELLOW Vehicle Type Approval Not Available Vehicle Excise Duty rate for vehicle 6 Months Rate £41.80 12 Months Rate £76.00