[gamble]

THEME – FILM

The sheep turned in a 5.am and bleated in his sleep..

We think Jonathon Ross is an embarrassing twat at times don’t we ladies and gentlemen ? Doooooh.. He suggests a no holes barred tenty minutes flesh extravaganza with a lady guest and only gets a poo hoo. Bring back Mary brush your teeth after kissing Whitehouse. The devil’s running the show – Mary once had a little lamb….bring it on

   Get thee to a church Ross and park in there my son

 Sunday’s a pretty naff day for racing and that’s why I intend to go full throttle in here and wind the gamble battery down to Zilch. This really is the end of a dream. The theme for the final day is film, and putting on my sunday vest I intend to put the great racing threads, including this one, under the film spotlight. Give ’em stars too.

    I have nothing against Ross wreally, he has a lot of energy, it is just occasionally he should remember he does have guests, and many many white souled viewers who still love a plain muffin. His words on film are better.

  My plan today was to pop in here at about six just put this thread onto its lofty pinnacle and be gone. A night of some horror changed that.

Nick and rob are the reincarnation of good old ern. Bless your hearts gentlemen.

   I hope the racing purists will understand, but this is a blue moon job, and it would be sad to lose it. My advice is turn a blind eye. Help with the picture above is appreciated and I intend to send an imaginary chocolate cake with the words eat in time as a gesture.

Next up – the place of Zorro in history

<br>flatcapgamble…gamble’s battery is really low, and I believe the man’s dying.

(Edited by gamble at 12:42 pm on May 9, 2004)

[gamble]

Thank you Matron.

Team gamble have often entertained Gaaaary, in the pristine sanctity of the cyberspace cafe three blocks down from mean street. Last year, before he left for South Africa he offered allcomers free tickets to the comedy store at a central London venue. I declined the offer, but sent an agent with large lugs to lurk in the shadows. He spied; a dressed down Mr Black with those famous trainers, a mixed group of beer swillers, pockets stuffed full of unimaginable readies, and in the middle Gaaaary.

There was some secretive talk of nineteen and even a rumour he might have brought her along. But no, nineteen had not been built for comedy, and was more inclined to stay at home arching her prosthetic sleekness back and forth in that top room with her sisters, with a whirr and a wanton smile and in perfect rythmical unison. Sisters doin it for themselves and their maker Gaaary. As the moonlight spilled in they slightly increased their tempos and cleaned up.

  The most amazing thing about Gaaary is that he is completely self taught. I suppose that’s why we won the war. Come back mate your country needs you.

 Tony the most successful bot operator has offices in Japan, and loves the big pool bets where he can either screw up or down eight million in a final race. He tinkers with Betfair as a hobby.

<br>flatcapgamble…You can sense the presence of a bot, they tend to snap.

[gamble]

Interesting and quite believable. Of course getting back to bots, some are user friendly to betfair’s systems and some are not. Gary’s bots were according to him, approved as friendly.

[gamble]

These sort of threads sail by rarely. They are best described as large ghost ships in the night fully encrusted with pink winking diamonds that bedazzle and slow and trick the mind. Below their water line are carbuncles that kick ass. Strange creatures patrol their upper decks and a multitude of marine life splash in their aft wake and dolittle but chatter and flip the odd beach ball :soccer:

 If I can snatch the time I intend to re-visit here on sunday to wave this vessel away with full mulitary honour. Pearl harbour will get its very own depth charged grimes report

   Racing generally is in the doldrums at the moment, with dodgy waiters and saltless porridge often on the menu. If I fail to make it, you’ll know I am dead from boredom. I may just sit down and ponder it myself, in spirit.

…..

      Hastings… Now this Turtle case is over Poirot, I’d like to ask your views on this big Marple women, she’s getting very nosey and seems to be muscling in on your casework. Do you feel threatened by her ?

    Poirot… Hastings, this is all too easy for me to answer. This lady has a fine mind and this is not at all the dispute. I enjoy much the challenge, but the size of any madameoiselle is not at all the matter. Hah..in Belgium we often get the colder weather..for the larger types most approriate – and to use my own tongue I say…’ tres  a g r e a b l e’.

Flatcapgamble..Bring your own tin hat, preferably twice the size of Basingstoke..it might rain

[gamble]

..oops… carrear

[gamble]

Jilly you were right I almost laughed my legs off. Downside is my carrer here is finished :biggrin:  

[gamble]

…. I had a further two pints and a bag of crisps. Walking home I amused myself by thinking out loud….

  A baa baa had run amok for two years on truffle and someone commented that it was the main man. Was I unhappy, or what ? :laugh:

[gamble]

….after I saw my picture, I was rather shocked, not dissapointed, just a bit edgy that my secret was out. I thought I’d do something normal, so I checked the Chelsea score on the betfair chatboard, and was amazed to see the 2-0 score line. It was Thurnscoe thunder writing, a past in running man and fisherman like me, and he was pleased as punch

I needed air.

I walked to the pub with my picture big in my mind. The pub was full of people and the score was now 2-1 :grumpy:.

I pushed through a thick throng wanting for a pint of crone and..another order( mind your own business). I waited what seemed like hours, and when the barman came and took my order he said…<br>  <br> " sorry mate we’re completely out of glasses "

….. at that exact moment Monaco scored.

 I walked out five minutes before the end having just got a pint. I walked the long way home, fancying a stretch. On a busy pavemment I saw a couple approach, and I immediately recognized the bloke – it was Griff Rhys Jones the comedian out with his Squeeze, and he was arguing with her. I looked behind me and saw his woman was wearing jeans and had an ample derriere, hmm. Strange thing is they had both failed to notice me, a sheep.

I walked into another pub. This one was almost empty, it had no sky.

flatcapgamble..:blush: 

[gamble]

Bee ee  beee  beeeee eh

cough

baaaa   baaaa   baaaaaaaaaa

<br> can I have a cocoa Mum<br> I think I am going to have a baby :crying:

<br>flatcapgamble…  As you probably know I’m his dog and today I wrote in the joke section..

..gamble’s gone off for a dump. He doesn’t do jokes, all his accounts are taken from his rich tapestry – sadly they are mostly about him and his miserable hancock life

<br> Sheepshank still fancies his chances against Zorro and the clever turtle, even after this excrutiating expose, thing is he’s finished :laugh:

<br>

[gamble]

Gary reflected on the markets, they had again been particularly kind to him that day, as they had been yesterday, and the day before and their was a certain boredom to this predictability. He walked around the ice palace with a stiffer nonchalance that night though, as there was more than a little coldness in the air and he noticed his breath, hanging in the stairwell. To make matters worse he couldn’t sleep. 127, 128, and his foot creaked a little on the top last stair, and he reached for the handle of the little wooden door that housed his marvels. He pushed the door open and his face lit up with his usual look of admiration.

     " Hallo my beauties, GARY’S here "

   Nineteen beautifully formed pert bots in three rows all moving rythmically in the cold air with perfect precision and just a slight whirr. He had a particular favourite – and he walked over to her. She was simply called nineteen and was separated from the others and in a corner away from the windows. He had spent months labouring to add a particularly interesting feature… Apart from this he had given her a voice.

‘"good evening Gary,

nineteen’s been waiting up for you "    

[gamble]

Quote: from Ian Davies on 1:08 pm on April 17, 2004[br]

  I was reading an article in the racing post today called the curse of Zorro’s blunders. It seems Paul who wrote the piece, thinks that not only he himself is the legend of Zorro, but that the white knight (El Presidente for life in this neck of the woods, and surely the most popular world leader on the planet !) spends his entire day picking on threatening posters, kiling the odd few before breakfast, and meticulously giving each and every posting death marks out of five. He referred to the great white knight as Victor Creepo, so it it is a given that any future quest he might make to cyberspace will be fraught with many dangers, and far greater than those encountered in his curse of Capistrano, and will carry not least, the ultimate threat of a painfully long beheading.

The truth, of course, is somewhat more prosaic – the more you post, the more stars you get and, even if you bore everyone to death (I’m currently trying) it is possible for anyone to get to five stars over time. I reached this heady plateau many moons ago.

Paul, who I repeat writes under the misconception he is Zorro himself, more or less stated that TRF is in a different league to its arguably better-known, exchange-based, ”chat room” rival – never understood why BF call it a chat room, when its really a forum or message board – it may be becuse they tend to chatter. Hopefully we may see Paul here eventually. Most intersting would be if he chose to don his cape and fly in ‘biggles fashion’ to drop lightly scented bombs and enchant us with tales of valour and adventure of a bygone age.

Hopefully there will be some mention of his father Don Alejandro and particularly elegant mother Chiqitta, the latino beauty who to this day still casts a lingering and scented spell over the americas, and even beyond their hills and sweetly smelling grasses.

If he does make the journey he will meet many strange people and animals. Rory who can kill a man with his breath, Seabird who trains all night, and Meshy a young white witch who is not only partial to the odd liver but is virtual Queen of the throwaway line.Zoz is another interesting poster who has recently won the prestigious Tony Buzan ‘best mind’ award for exhibiting her amazing memory feats to a packed house. The best loved poster may be Redman, most famous for his spectacular hopping trick.

Paul was last seen in a london pet shop apparently re-stocking his terrapin collection. This man can certainly write, but whether he can fly with the eagles, is very much open to question. He carries far to heavy baggage to gamble. 

(Edited by Ian Davies at 7:11 pm on April 24, 2004)<br>

  Zorro your immortality may be ensured, but sadly the fine opening shot of the erudite Ian Davies, lost some of its beef in transit.

flatcapgamble..two edits in favour of the knight Davies :drunk:

(Edited by gamble at 10:47 am on May 5, 2004)<br>

(Edited by gamble at 10:55 am on May 5, 2004)

[gamble]

 Final wet monday thoughts…

Turtle YOU have a soft centre inside to nicely counterbalance that hard shell statement earlier on<br>

0n 18th April 543pm Turtle wrote..

  You leave Paul alone boyo bach

<br>Jane wrote…

On 19th April at 505pm  Turtle, are you really Paul Haigh ?

This was a highly interesting statement from Jane posted at turtle’s favourite tea time and 24 hours later. Strange I do not know you well Jane, but you have posted a lot. It was an interesting innocent looking statement but it raised doubts in my razor sharp.

The boyo bach (batchelor) was memorized by Zorro many days later…as he stated " gamble, my wife is not welsh"

   Zorro (RP) and turtle both tipped different horses for the colts classic. This nicely separates the two posters, unless Zorro was hedging his bets which is unlikely. They have different characters. Turtle amazingly tipped both classic winners in his "dream of hooves". Grimes was the only other to back both horses, hmmm, but in a fuddled way as he had more than two bets. He often writes with a deep south texan drawl, like he is chewing  toffees, which is most offputting. Tooting is finally cleared of wearing a shell suit. He hates emoticons more than losers.  

 I believe turtle lurks inside this thread. The Saltyjack case was my last, and I am not opening a full enquiry. The notebook is nicely noted though.

 Hastings, this Turtle he is a laughing creature and needs to slip his neck out just one more little inch. I think the small lettuce wil be a carotte for him, n’est-ce-pas ?,:scratchchin: or failing that the boot of Hoofski size 12

Hastings…" Poirot this reminds me of the snail case last year, now that one took a long time "

<br> Grimes’s drawl reminds me of Chiquita who used to look after me when I was small..

Chiquita used to sit in Paw’s rocker and he let her roll his cigar for him when Maw was out at bingo. He used to shout out after her " Maw hit those numbers for us ". Now that made Chiquita laugh and when Chiquita laughed Paw did too, and seeing ’em both laugh so much sort of made me cry a bit for Maw – cos she was out working the numbers. It didn’t last long though cos Chiquita gave me a nice little mexican smile and stroked my hair and Paw used to let me get up on the rocker with them and we had a hug altogether :grouphug:. Maw used to come back later and say she hadn’t won and then she’d ask for a cigar. We all looked sad specially Paw. I had a good childhood, me Maw and Paw and the lovely chiquita

flatcapgamble…THE SAINT CLUB :saint:

… It is a pretty elastic type of organization and the rules are very much what you want to interpret them to be :shhh:. The only one which we ruthlessly insist on is the minimum annul subscription of 5s. a year for readers over 16 years. Simon is the only fully paid up life member.

These are my final words on this thread <br>

(Edited by gamble at 10:36 am on May 4, 2004)

[gamble]

:sing:

       Bend me shape me<br>        anyway you want me<br>        long as you hate me<br>        its alright

AMENcorner

[gamble]

a final thought for the White Knight

 ..the black widow spider will offer a greeting :kiss:<br>    to its hapless mate before scented candles are tenderly lit for dinner. A steaming fondu is then brought in and placed lovingly on the table with four pairs of trembling and expectant hairy hands. The mate glances worriedly at the size of the laid out steak knifes and wonders whether a gamble is in order before bed

flatcapgamble…He still seems to have issues about the three month cull of shy names that cannot word associate. He has held a meeting with four ghosts who will him on to get craggy.

[gamble]

In the year three billion the sun finally popped its cork to explode its energy and spew its megatons of thickly stewed fire in direction Earth. A heated woman stood by a boiling ocean and shouted…

  Enough is enough

<br>flatcapgamble… Craggy and Flake your moderating tolerance is to be commended. He truly has gone<br>

(Edited by gamble at 2:34 am on May 3, 2004)

[gamble]

:saint: the final chapter

He went flying down the alley, lurching from side to side from the rocking of the train, and contriving to light another cigarette as he went. He sat down next to a pool of blood and looked upwards. Suddenly the meaning of the whole godamned ball game flashed upon the Saint so suddenly and so lucidy that he threw back his head and bowed before a gust of helpless mirth. He put his gun down.  

<br>flatcapgamble…god save America was a Seussian ploy. Keep your sword sharp Zorro, gamble will leave you any last word if you dare, but will return within months as Darkman the prolific horn ed beast.   

[gamble]

Who God is, if indeed, is a possibility even the monkey men haven’t a banana on. God haunts my mind, he is the safe option that kicks starts ethics.

g’night

[Author]

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