irant
irant 1 ~ Bitch Fuck E-mail
Written by idyke   

Profanity. What the fuck is that I hear you ask.

  pro·fan·i·ty (prō-făn'ĭ-tē, prə-)
n., pl. -ties.

  1. The condition or quality of being profane.
  2.  
    1. Abusive, vulgar, or irreverent language.
    2. The use of such language.

I think it's a really sexy word. Let us look at it for a moment.

profanity


It has pro in it... which has a nice firm sound... An affirmation - this word is obviously in favour of something. It's a positive statement isn't it? Fan - it's also a fan of something - I wonder what that could be? i - ok so the 'i' could mean that it's a tad self absorbed or a bit egotistical possibly... but it would still do a shop for you if you were laid up in your
boudoir and needed loo roll. Some words aren't meant for much more than to be slaves to the freaks amongst us.

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Fan-i... Oooh I say. Fani. Now that can't be bad can it? I like a slice of fani somewhere in a word. It  does something to me. I could caress the the word fanny all night long in a bed made of feathers, sipping blue nun straight from a bottle and chomping on a large box of dairy milk.

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I know why the Tea Lady don't sing E-mail
Written by PhatDragon   

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Why is it when you’re nice to someone (normally a stranger of whatever persuasion) do they automatically think you fancy their arse? *ROLLS EYES*

I have been having the boiler replaced – stay with me, we’ll get there, there is a connection.  In fact I’ve had to remove a twenty foot oil painting to prepare for them to knock out a wall which when built had the flu of the boiler concealed behind it.  So the cunt back then, whoever they were, had no thought that one day, just maybe (because of course council appliances last forever so why would they even need to have the foresight to consider what happens in the future)

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Anyway, the lack of foresight meant that I had to find a friend to help me remove the painting, the same friend who helped me put it up over thirteen years ago, which was no small feat  even then.  That sized painting couldn't go anywhere in or out of the flat without first being cut into half on the base frame and folded in half to move it.  Coughing and spluttering with 13 years of dust we managed it.  And finally yesterday the old knackered, sagging tit, grey haired, wrinkled, rusting boiler (sounds like me) was replaced with a small, sexy, digitally configured boiler with blond hair and big boobs was installed. (My dream)

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