Size?

**sharpdressedscot** · 21st April 08, 03:28 PM

blasphemy!! No way!!

**Vafuth** · 21st April 08, 03:36 PM

Haggis would be better

**sharpdressedscot** · 21st April 08, 03:42 PM

Ofcourse!!

**Verlyn** · 21st April 08, 07:32 PM

And don't worry about the sizing. If Rocky or Kelly are unsure, they will call you (several times if needs be) to verify. Especially if your sons are ushers in their sisters kilted wedding and they find a 32x34x24 hard to believe as well as a 30x34x23 on two adult males. Both skinny and on 6'6". And they fit perfectly.

**beowulf67** · 22nd April 08, 04:55 AM

Originally Posted by J.B. Simpson

Not as wrong as a cheeseburger without the burger!

OK you people are starting to scare me!

**sharpdressedscot** · 22nd April 08, 07:03 AM

Originally Posted by beowulf67

OK you people are starting to scare me!

Muahahahahahahahaa!!

**J.B. Simpson** · 22nd April 08, 06:36 PM

Originally Posted by beowulf67

OK you people are starting to scare me!

My work here is almost done!!

**beowulf67** · 23rd April 08, 09:44 AM

A cheeseburger without cheese or a burger? That's like decaf coffee or non-alcoholic beer. What's the point?

**sharpdressedscot** · 23rd April 08, 04:43 PM

Point? There is no point!

**Coemgen** · 23rd April 08, 11:15 PM

Originally Posted by sharpdressedscot

Point? There is no point!

The points are frozen, the beast is dead. What is the difference? What indeed is the point? The point is frozen, the beast is late out of Paddington. The point is taken. If La Fontaine's elk would spurn Tom Jones the engine must be our head, the dining car our oesophagus, the guard's van our left lung, the cattle truck our shins, the first-class compartment the piece of skin at the nape of the neck and the level crossing an electric elk called Simon. The clarity is devastating. But where is the ambiguity? It's over there in a box. Shunt is saying the 8.15 from Gillingham when in reality he means the 8.13 from Gillingham. The train is the same only the time is altered. Ecce homo, ergo elk. La Fontaine knew his sister and knew her bloody well. The point is taken, the beast is moulting, the fluff gets up your nose. The illusion is complete; it is reality, the reality is illusion and the ambiguity is the only truth. But is the truth, as Hitchcock observes, in the box? No there isn't room, the ambiguity has put on weight. The point is taken, the elk is dead, the beast stops at Swindon, Chabrol stops at nothing, I'm having treatment and La Fontaine can get knotted.