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.

Oh SHUT UP you boring little tit
Russell Square YOU'RE ALL IN KNID....Mwaahaahaa!

[Tuj] I assure you that there is no danger of my falling from the window from which I survey this pigsty of jabbering cretins. Truly did Napoleon observe that while rascality has limits, stupidity does not.

Chalky] When I was seven I'd have though so too. Upminster.

[Btd] When I was seven, I could spell 'thought'. Gospel Oak