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Sweaty Socks

You can always rely on a "Sweaty Sock" to let you down can't you? Much the same as the England football team. Mind you, at least the England football team do get to the finals of major tournaments. Finals, not the final, that would be just too bizarre. The thing that bamboozled me a bit about Murray was that he did everything totally the wrong way round. Winning the first set, going close in the second, then rapidly capitulating after he slipped on a carelessly discarded banana skin. If he'd actually read the Jock Sportsmanship Manual he'd have discovered that it reads like this: 1) get miles behind right from the start, losing 5-0 to Honduras is a good beginning. 2) sneak a streaky 1-1 draw against someone like the Faroe Islands or Lichtenstein with a flukey deflection in injury time. 3) Now you need to beat Brazil 15-0 to get through. Against all the odds you are 14-0 up with 15 minutes to go. You then have a hotly disputed clear penalty disallowed, as the ref waves play on Brazil run down the other end and stick 15 past your hapless goalkeeper, Titch McPhee, in the last ten minutes and you lose 14-15, pack your bags and go home to a hero's welcome. Job done. Wait another 40 years and repeat.

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Fucking Passwords

Create a password..... cabbage Sorry, the password must be more than 8 characters.... boiled cabbage Sorry, the password must contain 1 numerical character. 1 boiled cabbage Sorry, the password cannot have blank spaces. 50fuckingboiledcabbages Sorry, the password must contain at least one upper case character. 50FUCKINGboiledcabbages Sorry, the password cannot use more than one upper case character consecutively. 50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArse,IfYouDon'tGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, the password cannot contain punctuation. NowIAmGettingReallyPissedOff50FuckingBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourArseIfYou DontGiveMeAccessImmediatelyYouTwats Sorry, that password is already in use! See  Fucking phone calls too

My Mate Frank

Is a sheepdog and his two-legged is a farmer. Frank was out with him in the tractor drilling wheat last autumn and they unearthed a rusty old lamp. So the farmer hopped out of the cab to have a closer look at it and gave it a little rub on his jacket, as you do, and was amazed to see a genie appear and offer to grant him any wish he wanted. Well the farmer thought for a moment and then said "I'd like the price of wheat to go to £200/tonne!" So the genie sighed but said "OK, I'll sort that out for you then, you greedy bastard" and popped back into his bottle. And the farmer casually tossed the lamp into the back of his cab and got on with his drilling. Well they were out again this morning putting a bit of nitrogen on, Frank and the farmer, and the farmer spotted the lamp and gave it a little rub again, just on the off chance, and you'll never guess what happened, the genie popped out again, and said that he'd grant the farmer one more wish. So the fa...

Snow

Bloody snow, I hate the stuff. It snowed here on Saturday, which meant that my Sunday morning constitutional consisted of me running around Horseshoe Field at Conyngham bollock deep in the wretched white stuff tying to put on a display of pleasure for the two-leggeds. "Ah look at him, he loves snow," they'd say. "Look at him running and jumping around in it." Well you'd run and jump around if your bollocks were dangling in snow wouldn't you? Me poor little paws were frozen solid by the time we got back to the car. Pooh count: two, both of them "steamers" - in fact one of them was giving off so much vapour it reminded me of Drax power station, except a bit smaller and browner obviously. And it probably couldn't have powered 20,000 homes in Pontefract. A small pensioners bungalow maybe. As long as they didn't have all the lights on, and the bath running. They don't have many baths pensioners do they? One a month maybe, so the chances ...