dieter

I doubt very much that he is from Bohemia.

Or like an isosceles triangle, perhaps?

Is that the pet dachshund or what?

Is that like a Phucket list? I'm confused. I am an innocent lad brought up in North Sunshine, Albion, Sunbury - the dreaded Salesians where I became the world's greatest cricketer - and all this from the humble origins of Klagenfurt and Rischweiller. You must agree I have come a long f...king way. To what avail? What, to end up on this site of whachko screwballs exchanging flatulence like platitudes, all under the smoko screen that we follow the same team the noble Barassi once played for? Then again, though I have mixed with prime ministers, presidents, headmasters, goons and gangsters, Bond-like entrepreneurs, Academy award winners, the greatest almost Grange-like wine makers of this fair land, attended dinners hosted by Premiers of this state in honour of the literary capabilities of my Polish born wife, I come back to this site, mainly to cross swords with the Prodees and the Wreckers and the Biffmen who forget that the church of Demons is a multi denominational and multi gendered and multi cultured. We won't even mention the LGBTIKHGFK word.

This 'topic' is like Sodom and Gomorrah. Shame on you pillars of salt!

Shouldn't that be peversevering with? Can't you spell any more, are your brain cellulites still up the river with Kurz and the pound of butter?

You mean Again.

I'll bet my bottom buck you wont hear any Kantainisms out of that place.

Is Kantianism worser than Onanism? Please let me know and I promise I'll attempt to give up the less worser.

Mr Misunderstood. I rest my cases.

Phew.

Always knew you were one of us, a friggin genius. I still despise your slant on history. You should stop reading Biggles.

Eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we diet.

Some where over the rainbow, weigh a pie...

If they weigh a whale at the Whaleweigh Station, where do they weigh a pie?

Lovely stuff, Bing181. I appreciate your insights.

Ah, not to mention the privilege of being an Ulster Scoot, that wonderfully rich cultural ancestry of dwelling in bogs and being sustained by the noble Taittie. I envy you, most of all, because of that inimitably poetical cascading Irish brogue.

You sound blessed: being able to swear in 4 languages. Not even my father swore. Or my mother. I was distinctly underprivileged. Ah, what treasure, German/Polish/Jewish neighbours. I had the Morris Family, Doris Morris, who married the two timing Terry Twomey, and Ronald Morris who called me a poofta because I liked Beethoven. Still, I was able to bowl him out mercilessly when we played cricket, mainly because I was fast and because at that time I was the greatest living German cricketer. That was after many years of fruitless overs. And, I admit, he kept encouraging me to bowl faster. He had no fear. Of a tennis ball.

It's a form of auto-didactic proselytizing. FYO.

Most of you have missed the great literary genius behind this post. And English is not my mother tongue. Ah, the poetry and symbolism, Scot, Scat, the simple fact that a german knows the difference between a vowel and a consonant... Pearls before pork munchers, and those who abhor the meat because in the olden days it rotted before a sheep or a cow or a horse or a camel or a donkey did. A refrigerator would have changed the kosher habits and aversions of all Semitic people, their Muslim cousins and brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers included, and given them the benefits of what my favorite Lebanese Deli in Orrong Road used to call 'Kosher Ham.'

Yes, strange place. I was born there, fled when I was two. Then my parents thought they were going back but forgot about the difference a consonant and a vowel or two makes. Ended up among the Scotch thistled paddocks and outside dunnies of North Sunshine ( So we're back in Scatland.) I've never recovered.

Read the fine print, DC, ignore the salacious pictures, she's a Spanish National, of Mexican descent. Apparently into ice cream and concrete. So much so for being a 'Used Ice Cream' salesman.

So, what's not to like about her? One less Ice cream salesman in the world? And the first husband? Well, apparently the klutz kept overcooking the asparagus.

Some chose not to. We are Melbourne Football Club supporters. What would we know of the habits of the lowlifers?

What would you know about Germans anyway? Apart from wanting to date one...