Bitter but optimistic

I'm just about done in. A few of Biffen's inane drug [censored] comments would just about finish me. Talking to a dead writer does that to you. Actually it's very like having a discussion with Stuie.

And another thing Ernie - I didn't like your cookbooks. Grapes are for vino, nothing else. And .... as for sardines ... FMD ... you can stick them. Call yourself a writer .... FMD.

Is that what the bluerinsers use when they're gasping for breath dc?

Is that what the bluerinsers use when they're gasping for breath dc?

No need to show off by talkin Esperanto Ernie!

Ha ha very funny Ernie - you smart dead bastard!!

Someone invited you to a party?

Now listen to me Ernie! You put the boots into me recently by suggesting I was some sort of pervert so don't go sanctimonious on me for linking you with lawyers. Although in all honesty I suppose it is preferable to be named a pervert than a lawyer. Or even a dead rather than a lawyer. Now as to Redtube. I could proffer an explanation and no doubt Biffen could offer a different bent. So, let us combine bent and lawyer ( hardly necessary I know) and let me suggest you direct this question to Redleg

Yes fair point dc. I'd forgotten your prey would be confined to their Residential Care Facilities on chilly evenings.

Leaving the bluerinsers alone tonight dc?

Was that sanctimonious dead bastard Hemingway ever a lawyer Biff?

Was that sanctimonious dead bastard Hemingway ever a lawyer Biff?

Was that sanctimonious dead bastard Hemingway ever a lawyer Biff?

Have you no shame man?!!

Bloody sneaky lawyer.

Jesus did your missus fess up?

After a sufficient dose of Redtube I'm guessing.

Well I'm always open to suggestions Mable and since my marriage counselling business hasn't really taken off as yet .....

I've had a very busy and trying week Dr and have only now had the opportunity to ponder your eloquent obfuscations. However, let us not confuse eloquence with dissembling ! But .... I suppose past is past and I will not press the matter of you making further emissions admissions about your grubby history. I will be most interested to observe how your already debauched little hamlet will advance ( or not) under your stewardship. No doubt nepotism and corruption will rear their various heads and winners and losers will emerge. And, speaking of nepotism, I also give fair warning that I intend to pursue your local BDSM club for payment of outstanding fees to the national body. This the corporate age and it can no longer hide behind its sloganizing and rhetoric about being a family operated concern.

Yeah but he never knew how much to charge. Went out of business.

Well daithy, I think some of Red's posts a quite pithy.

Who was he?

Well I'm finally back at the Manor after an arduous few days in Cantberra. I noticed our resident Dr Hopping Dicks alluded to a locale named Fyshwick which I presumed was where one found the seafood market. Being partial to the occasional clam, I headed out that way. Well what a surprise! It was where one would likely find Cantberra's version of the Gat. Which brings me to the point of my ramble. In a particularly scrofulous location I noticed a faded sign. " For love potions, poultices and cures for the pox contact your ever reliable Dr John D...". The rest was obscured by various stains and fluids. Scant evidence I agree but nonetheless, the question must be asked . Does our Good Doctor have a sordid history buried in our national capital and is his retreat to a hillbilly hideaway a means to escape a criminal past?

Yes and with each pair of "Calvin Kleens" you get a free can of guava paste