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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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Excellent. Hurrah. Well done pen. Good luck too.
OK, folks. Eight word Choral Society slogans. Go!
Carshalton Beeches Ladies' Choir. We're Singers not Mingers.
Want a song? With us you're never wrong!
No competition. I think that takes the biscuit.
Who needs a blocked nose? We've got Tunes!
Mostly in Tune Since 1965 (Except the Tenors)
No Accuse Teno's Of Singin' Wrong: It Debases
All Our Bass Are Belong To You, Folks
Hear our choir - we can Handel The Messiah.
You practice in the bath? Take more baths.
She sings sweet songs softly so she says.
Softly swishing soap suds she sits silently shampooing.
That one would definitely encourage me to attend!
You mean there are no choral financial incentives?
I was at the Epsom Derby today. Heaving.
Heaving? You ought not to drink so much.
Penelope, were you wearing a silly stylish elaborate hat?
No, in the free bit with the hoi-polloi
How did the hoi-polloi taste? Too spicy again!
Tried not to taste them. Kept my distance.
The "the" in "the hoi polloi" is redundant.
Some may say the hoi polloi are redundant.
By looks of them, a lot were.
Phil is right. Standards must be kept up.
Penelope used only seven words. Standards are falling.
The 'redundant' was redundant. I left it out.
That's neat, pen, but I am not convinced.
Alternatively, one could say "the polloi", I suppose.
I have a parrot that says, "pretty polloi"
Is your parrot from Dudley, I Say, Porter!?
I hope it is not an ex parrot.
No, it's an expatriate, living in Greece, obviously.
Isn't living in grease a messy business, Rosie?
Better than living in a Saturday night fever.
Made lemon cake this morning, for afternoon tea.
What will you eat for supper then, pen?
No idea. Fish finger sandwich, mayonnaise, ketchup maybe?
I hope you defrost the fish fingers first.
They lose their crunch when you defrost them.
yes and that is sad. crunch is best.
There's a lunatic in here! Looks friendly, though.
They're the ones you have to watch carefully.
Yes, he said "crunch". That sounds rather violent.
I like Crunchy bars straight from the fridge.
That practice denuded me of half my teeth.
"Yorkies" are like concrete when they are cold.
I hate the pathetic little nippy yappy bastards.
I tried putting golden syrup in the freezer.
ISP, try putting them in the freezer too.
Did you succeed Rosie or was it failure?
How can I succeed Rosie. I am Rosie.
I guess you could succeed at being Rosie.
I'm giving it a go. Few others would.
I would, but I can't play the trombone.
[everyone] Please, no 'neither can Rosie' gags. Thanks.
Actually, I'm a considerably better pianist than trombonist.
My music teacher asked me to stop playing.
You can't tuck a 'cello under your chin.
Nor a piano. But you wear a sousaphone.
I can't actually play any instrument at all.
I'm not very good, but I enjoy trying.
That could apply to many of my activities.
To parachute you must be good every time.
Not necessarily if you are a lucky bastard.
I didn't click on that link. Dunno why.
There is a surreal quality in that remark.
[Software] His father said he'd "bounce back". Nice.
I think you're confusing this with bungee jumping.
Bungee jumping and parachuting. What is the difference?
One is head first, the other feet first.
That can be said about lots of things.
What shall we talk about next; any ideas?
Just thinking how much I dislike windy weather.
Indeed, I hate flatulence in general. Most unsociable.
Could flatus replace fossil fuels if efficiently collected?
Certainly. And the plentiful bovine variety is odourless.
Putting cows in gasometers would be rather cruel.
What about a tube up the bum, then?
You'd never fit a cow into one of those!
(Oops. Nine words. Here's seven to compensate.)
Two wrongs do not necessarily make a right.
Shurely two negatives make a positive, if multiplied.
Two rites do not quite make a ceremony.
Two ceremonies ddon't necessarily make it right either.
Two "right" angles make a very straight line.
It's as easy as pi to say that.
Hear about the yokel mathematician? Married his cosin.
Noah used yacht varnish to get an arctan.
This conversation is a Sine of the times.
I think we need to take another angle.
Does a right angle boil at ninety degrees?
It does indeed. And removes all beetroot stains.
Methyl formate boils at approximately ninety degrees Fahrenheit.
Just back from Lisbon; ninety degrees there too.
It was ninety degrees here late last week.
I'm sure that statement is true, but WTFRU?
Somewhere where it's ninety degrees, obviously, Rosie. Duh!
It was only in the 70's today Rosie.
But enough of the weather, in sports today...
Wicket dot rain dot wicket wicket dot rain
Rain. There has been plenty of it lately.
That's not the most controversial comment I've seen.
Point of contention! Not in the Atacama desert.
The Atacama Desert is not entirely without rain.
We are not greedy take our spare rain.
Spare rain comes with a degree of humidity.
Can you get an honours degree in humidity?
Yes, but it needs less inspiration than perspiration.
No chance to perspire in this rainy weather!
Horses sweat, gentlemen perspire but ladies merely glow.
Horses sweat because "only fools and horses work".
Shurely working horses would sweat, whoever else works.
Would anti-persperant for horses work do you think?
It would die of hyperthermia. Humane, at least.
Horse sweat is an ingredient in school dinners.
In 1948 it was about the only ingredient.
In the 1970's we had "Mystery Meat", scary!!!
Can't comment. I never ate school dinners myself.
Anyway, why are they called dinners at lunchtime?
Breakfast, dinner, tea and supper. No second breakfast.
No. It's breakfast, elevenses, lunch, tea, dinner, supper.
Such regimes are the reason we're all overweight.
I prefer to say a bit chubby, myself.
Try Intermittent Fasting: eat nothing every other day.
That would play havoc with your bowel movements.
Show me a motion, tra la la la-la...
"This House strongly approves of all lavatorial humour".
Flushed with pride, round the bend with happiness.
Toilet thieves leave me nothing to go on.
Nessun Dorma, for Milan is on the Po.
Irish invented toilet, English put hole in middle.
Thank goodness for the hole. And the leak.
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