As ever, Rensdorf and rab have gone off on one, and forgotten to make a move. How easy does this game have to be made before you people can play it? Charing Cross

rensdork] forsooth, gadzooks and verily; I fist you hard in your broken hole.

[Darren] The pass was implicit, which even the most casual - and I would say you are very casual - of observers would have noticed.

And?

[rab] I suppose "very casual" is some sort of insult in your up-tight hate-filled world.

Bob the Dog] If you're not going to contribute, go play in a blender. Now: Barkingside. No biblical crap or long words here.

[Tuj] Mummy not there to help with the long words? Try 'defenestrate'... Monument

Tuj] So?

Tuj] and it is dog NOT Dog. OK?

[Bob the DOG] Some people have the brains to think out what they're going to say before they post it. I can see you're not one of them. Oval is the shape of your nose.

Belsize Park. Yeah? So? Got somethin' to say?

Chalky] No that's fine. That is a perfectly good move. FOR AN AMOEBA.

st d] You can tell the good jokes by the ones where you have to capitalise(watch penelope, watch!) to show where THE PUNCHLINE is. And boOb tHe DoG? I can call you whatever I like. How does LOSER sound? HA HA. Lambeth North. Reckon Rensdorf's demonstrated defenestration?

[Tudge] I use the small 'p' so as not to intimidate weeners like you. Think Penelope Keith, but more so. South Kensington, of course.

Chorleywood, not that any of you rabble could afford to live there.

¡Usted es todo tan estúpido, me hace lloro con la frustración! Tooting Beck

... and who let you in? Bog off and invade something overseas.
Waterloo

Mfoi]That last effort was demeaning to the whole game, I can tell that you are the type of person, that goes fishing and takes graet satisfaction in catching tiddlers; how cute. While I avoid the easy option, you on the other hand, are just so proud of your feeble efforts, playing Tooting Beck (so asinine), at this juncture, it is the same as returning back to your squalid tent and girlfriend - going into extremes of improbability - as the rain beats down on your worthless and wretched figure clutching your woebegone prize tiddler; pleased as punch and excited as a Firday night p**shead sniffing at the barmaids apron, there is the inevitable slip, and the disaster waiting to happen. What a squalid sordid sight, you, groping your tiddler through her wet flaps. Go back to the start, don't expect these other impoverished players to be any help, a cursory glance by a novice would be appalled by this contemptible rabble. With no restrictions Baker Street is a move of discernment and perception beyond the frog spawn that you miserably call a brain.