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Turtle :soccer:, you may have unintentionally started an animal war by copying my balls. Only the lady doctors are allowed to play with them.
This is my 1500th post and a milestone where I will attempt to exercise some ghosts.
*I still have not completely cracked the turtle shell, but I feel warmth inside and innards of some complexity fighting within an old lady’s breast.
* Zorro is a craftsman, who may have cleverly weaved his way inside my brain, but I give him a clean bill of health, because a sheep doesn’t do kill bull .
* Strangely I could do no more Marshall, because Zorro is marshallian, and he is here. Marshall was ripped apart when I dipped his troubled soul into satanism and the occult. I deeply regret that journey and the cursed writing that followed –  my Scarborough. It will never be fully told, because it whips up too much torment.
 This thread is akin to jumping into a large jar of marmite and finding crackers, and a neat table set for tea inside. Not since a smiling Balance entertained three black ladies of the night, on the edge of a moor, with a spliff and a strangely x-dressed kathy robed Heathcliff hidden in the bathroom, have I encountered so much energy.
Wuthering Fights – jellied eels – Cochrane – and the old Le Penn, blasted angry voices across these pages as we waded knee deep in black testing treacle. This Haigh thread joins them as another celebration, a granite monument to discord. Zorro you have done good.
 Mesh with her early talking jibes, ap.hereiamagain, and hoofski – povided extra surprising bones for the meat in here.
 Rory is no real murderer, but his face really frightens me.
….I believe our own white witch could rip the zoz and guts out of Clarice Starling. This thread has an element of Silence about it.. and as I tussled with my favourite double filling pillow last night, strange haunting music came into my mind – a lullaby melody sung by smother moths and in a dark cellar. The moths suddenly stopped singing and then spoke to me and the words sounded specially smooth and helped ease me into deep satisfying sleep…
   I ate bully’s liver with some<br>    java beans and a nice chianti<br>   ÂÂÂ
<br>flatcapgamble… strange romance
<br>fin
  All the afore posted proves that Jack Daniel’s claim to be the biggest selling whisky in the world is indeed true
  Freebird.:biggrin:
I am in my pen. ;) with mr Daniels :drunk:
As for Zorro’s earlier astrology question, and he seems fixated with stars, I am more a beleiver in seasonal effects. I was lambed in winter so have an introspective nature with an easy ability to deal with damp, glum, days, and a heavily attired farmer’s wife
That is not such a ridiculous question. Since I got fleeced my whole behaviour has changed – something a mere name like yours Ian Davies could never appreciate.
I have a much more gentle nature since the change, and when I walk the pavements I do imagine myself as a sheep. Seriously this is so – however not always. I have also grown to love sheep with more than just a fond eye.
 Tooting just the other day was telling me his feelings about the pig, and how it had changed him. If you had the courage, to put back and lay at the back of your mind for a day or so and try it you would change too. you could be a pig.
(Edited by gamble at 2:00 am on May 1, 2004)
Baaaa. You feel an animal by your left side would diminish your weight of argument. I do understand if it is slightly a business decision.
Most of the people slightly in the public eye; yourself, apracing, Zorro, all wear no clothes.
flatcapgamble…I see Razeen’s TV career went up in smoke :biggrin: The man occasionally writes about the horse, but let’s be honest, he’s a typical lounge lizard
(Edited by gamble at 2:32 am on May 1, 2004)
Quote: from Ian Davies on 2:30 am on May 1, 2004[br]Gamble,
I think it’s less to do with business<br>
Fair enough :) Yes the names are sometimes quite interesting, and some have numbers attached.
When I first heard of Zorro I didn’t think much of the name. I have grown to like it – sort of grown on me, and I now think its a cracker. It has an aura of mystery and excitment about it, and I suppose that’s why he chose it. The name gave a lot of enrgy to this thread.
Gamble, I begged you to get help.<br>:cool: I believe there is a quite decent brand of whiskey called Old Sheep Dip.
Zorro, you seem to have an unusually unhealthy interest in my mental health and it is finally beginning to bug me.
The below may bore and is for Zorro’s eyes only
I believe to some extent in serendipity. Today after backing the winner of the guineas, I journeyed with a full pocket to a ramshackle house where I keep part of my scattered possessions. Incidentally, I was very dissapointed to be met by the sight of a garden taken root – gone big fruit cake, with a privet almost as unruly as your bad manners. Kicking open the door I was greeted by an ugly cubic yard of recycled tree consisting of letters, gratis local rags, flyers and freebies. Yuk,yuk, leave me be
 I was thinking of your somewhat indolent advice – don’t know why – when I stepped into the front room. I had piles of unopened books stacked up in crates, largely I repeat unopened and uninvestigated and there it stared at me full of surprise. What? ….Serendipity.
  An old paperback I had picked up a long time ago in a job lot – never looked at it.
The Saint  v. Scotland Yard by Leslie Charteris.
On the back cover a clue…The Scorpion meets the Saint and regrets it. My mind turned to you. The price was printed – 3 shillings and the first publishing date of 1932, and above a disclaimer..
  the villains in this book are entirely imaginary<br>     and have no relation to any living person
 The book opened naturally at page 130 and therein I spotted a small calendar from 1983 with some red flowers pictured on the front, possibly poppies or tulips ? It opened up to display the months and on the back cover this..
  Veux et souhaits de Nouvel An<br>     de l’imprimerie h. lapersonne <br>     11, avenue jules-ferry 78500 sartrouville..tel (3) 913-07-68
 I was curious and investigated this page 130 – interestingly enough chapter 1 of part 3. The chapter was entitled ‘The melancholy journey of Mr, Teal.’
 I collect old detectives, but have never read Charteris much, thinking him a bit duff… anyway the chapter interestingly started so, and contained the serendipity…
 Now there was a day when the saint was quite mad.<br>   Ofcourse, one might with considerable justification say that he always had been mad (crikey)<br>,anyway, so that the metamorphosis suggested by that first sentence would be difficult for the first observer to discover, Patricia Holm said so, quite definately; and the saint only smiled.
 That is the answer I thought, albeit wrapped up in a difficult mouthfull.
The Grandmaster, on this occasion beefy will just smile :angry:  at your mask.
flatcapgamble… Anybody who read the above check your hands for unusual hairgrowth and abnormality<br> ÂÂÂ
(Edited by gamble at 9:06 pm on May 1, 2004)
Chapter V111
The detective seemed to have shrunk. His complexion had gone lined and blotchy, and there was a dazed look in his eyes that stabbed the Saint with a twinge of pity.
<br>flatcapgamble….that’s Charteris for you, a black label writer.
It is 3.20 am and I se no sight of Davies<br> The man is not a machine after all<br> I believe he is re-charging his battery.<br> Zorro – I am no ogre<br> Turtle you are <br> God bless America<br>
:shhh: Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.
  Dear God, in three billion years<br>   there’s nothing left<br>   what we gonna do ?
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