Club Arnage

There are no more than four letters in the last sentence, which was the important one.

BTW, did you hear about the dyslexic polytheist?

He worshipped many dogs.

Oh Brilliant Mr. Z.        ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D

[quote author=Robbo SPS Too much of my time is wasted on idiots , although i get paid to deal with them. I find your post, even less inspiring than those by Mr Harper and his Vette thing with American pig iron in the front.

Aluminium, if you please Robbo.

I have a variation on this one Andy - a dyslexic, agnostic insomniac - who lay awake at night, wondering if there was a dog.

BT old son, you are playing with fire with that comment.  I suggest you have a good look round this forum before continuing.  

What about the dyslexic devil worshipper?  He soul to Santa....

The dyslexic pimp - he bought a warehouse  ;D

And the dyslexic who was invited to a toga party and went dressed as a goat.

Another contribution:

Why did the dyslexic cross the road?  - To get to the 'Heros Diet'

Particularly appropriate to Lemons devotees :)


Not strictly in the T-Shirt vein - apologies Smokie

Smokie, are you sleeping ?

it was supposed to be a thread without any irrelevant posting...  :P

Sorry, I was working - makes a change huh?  :-\

Sorted it out now...

Can this be considerd as my first thread(t) on this forum? Peculiar group of people here....and rather unpolite as well. A bit strange that these people a benefiting from our hospitality but on the other hand spitting on our values....

Bartus(who thinks there is not as much differance between football-hooligans and Le Mans visitors as it seems)

Bartus (my little iceberg lettuce on the 'Todays Special Offers' shelf),
What the Joe Davis is all this talk of bloody toes, xenophobes, nazi schillings whippetts and cocker spaniels?
The lads appear to be having what's known as 'having a bath', like you, English (usually) isn't their first language, so bandage up those metatarsals, keep a weather eye on the Stella factory, and don't put down the Belgian-Englisch phrase book.
Poor old Robbo's having to sell his shirts to get to LM this year, so a £/Euro rate of around 1.5 should be about right, and remember to donate a small beer, or a good joke.
And for Frank Boughs knobs sake don't start going on about football, or they'll be off again about Rugby and the World Series.
Easy there fella.
H

Bartus

We're not unfriendly to those who approach in an open minded and sincere manner. Have a look at the CA Help section to see what I mean, we'll generally do anything for anyone if we can. But your coming into the chatroom hurling verbal grenades could not be better calculated to get folk's backs up.

Also I simply don't understand what "hospitality" you are referring to? Nor can I see anywhere where someone has spat on your values, such as they are.

In short, please stop being a Pusillaninmous Pithecoid Prepuce; you'll find the definitions in the OE Dictionary under P.  It's a phrase often used by English Football/Le Mans hooligans.

You'll see people respond to you far more positively.

Woof, bark, donkey. There, that's what I think anyway!

Now then, being the dyslexic that I am after a few pints, I'm off down the pube .......

 ;D

They all belong to DNA which is short for the National Association of Dylexics.

Very nice too, but whose?  ;)

Dyslexic? I must admitt that english isn't my native language but you better believe it beats about 100% of the "french" I hear from you in June...  ;D

Bartus(who will knit a tricolore on his new t-shirt)

You are right Bartus! Generally our French is not good. I am still surviving (just) on the stuff I learnt at school over 20 years ago. Blame our education system. There are only so many baguettes I can eat in one weekend and I've never had to order any stamps yet, so those French lessons have a very limited use!

 ;D

Rick- your comment about ordering stamps in French reminded me of a situation I found myself in, whilst en vacance in France and doing the old postcard routine. I couldn't, for the life of me, remember what the French word for stamps was, so I improvised and asked for 'billets de postage'. The old bag behind the counter nearly laughed her tits off and even summoned one of her colleagues to share in the ridicule.
I was quite taken aback, as I have found that in general, if you at least make an effort (as opposed to just talking louder in English), the French are extremely obliging courteous and helpful. On reflection I felt like telling her to stick her timbres up her rue de chocolat.
Braketest - please accept my sincere apologies for accusing you of being Dutch. I thought you had given a clue by including a picture of a Spyker - at least it shows you have a sense of humour..... re the Spyker, that is.

Matt, I know what you mean, and so do probably quite a few other brits.
Using exactly the same logic I asked the assistant in the hypermarket where I could find the 'sacs de derriere' (well, this was in the days before someone had thought of those little see through wallets), yes a bum bag was what I was after.
After a lot of rib-clutching, she led me to the right spot, although as we were making our way there the thought occurred to me that she may be taking me to the chemists section for some pile cream.
H

hmmm.... pile cream..

Which brings me nicely onto one of our party who makes a habit of embarassing himself whilst trying to speaka da lingo...

He speaks a bit posh like too which seems to make it funnier (sorry Mikey, but it's true!!).

1) End of one particular race weekend on the Monday lunchtime, stocking up in Stoc at Mulsanne Corner (now Champion) and he pronounces to the rather attractive young thing on the till "je n'aime pas le petit agent". He was trying to say that he didn't want any small change which is why he was paying her in very small denominations beacuse we were on our way home and banks wouldn't change up small stuff etc..... I guess he meant to say "argent" as in silver (I think), presume "agent" means perhaps agent, as in secret? Either way, said mademoiselle  nearly fell off her chair.

2) Non Le Mans French visit and rather than call a waitress over with "madame", he decided to get all maternal and call her "maman"!!!!

3) At toll booth, chappie refused to take a fairly sizeable note for a small toll. Total language crossover and he thought the chap was saying the note was no good. HUGE "franglais" argument ensues with lots of "non" in loud voices from both sides - turns out the chap meant he didn't have enough change!!! Oh how we laughed!!

 ;D

Ah, the joys of the French hypermarket - the only place you can get cheese and an inflatable boat, complete with outboard motor - in the same aisle.
The assortment of lips and assholes, horses knees and sheeps gums on sale at the deli counter are a sight to behold, also.
H - if I'm not mistaken, what you should have asked for was 'le bumbag'  

But what about my haemorroids??!

I have no desire to even contemplate, let alone discuss your grapes of wrath. Hang on - is that why they call you Big H??

Surely it's obvious H. Put them in the bumbag.

BTW Are you a relation of the "Preparation H" family?

Must admit, I've been pissing myself laughing at this thread.
Matt, its got me all misty eyed thinking about some of the attempted conversations with Helga the Fish Madame at E.Leclerc. on race morning.
Fax

One year we were in a restaurant and got one of our less worldly wise pals to ask the waiter for "Boeuf Rideaux". The waiter was mystified.

We were pissing ourselves though, as our friend had asked for Beef Curtains.

Oh that is just too funny.  I had to have a coughing fit to disguise the laughter!

Hi John - yes indeed. I recall the first time we tried to persuade the fish-faced fishmongeress to part with some ice for our R2D2's, we somehow got our wires crossed and asked her to fill them with ice cream. The look of utter bewilderment on her scaley little face is burned in my mind forever. The hours we have spent aimlessly shambling around French supermarkets waiting for someone in our group to take command of the situation and start loading up the carts with beer and ejecting some of the superfluous toilet rolls, water, baguettes etc.etc. I'll never forget the time Dave H spent f**k knows how much on sleeping bags, pillows, air mattresses etc - and then discovered he'd forgotten his tent!
Or (slightly off-topic) when we arrived in Indy on Memorial Day Sunday, for the 500, only for you to remind us that you can't buy alcohol in Indiana on Sundays - deep joy.
Andy - your posting was funny - moreover for the mental picture of you lot sniggering in the background, at your unfortunate oppo and the confused waiter - pure 'Viz' readers letters stuff. Excellent!

Matt, That fiasco at Indy gives me the creeps just thinking about.  I'll never forget the look of horror on you & Dave's faces when I dropped that bomb.  Necking gin and heading out on a beer scunge through the Coca Cola lot at eight in the morning...Ugh!  Daytona's shaping up nicely, saw some Vettes on the entry list but haven't seen a Mini yet (are they fast enough to stay up on the banking?)
Sorry Robo, had to do it.

I believe that Laura Ashley are doing beef curtains this Spring.
Ikea however, are staying with meatballs and cupboards.

I never did rate Ikea's menu very highly

Yes - this does look a whole lot more promising than last year's race and I've got pit passes organised. The guv'nor's son is doing an SCCA race at Sebring this weekend and Grand Am membership (with the perks) is mandatory. They're testing for the Fran-Am race at Homestead during Rolex weekend, hence I've got the "back-stage passes".
Same goes for 12 hours of Sebring (from a different source - First Air, who are bringing over one of the Veloqx R8 (among others) for the ALMS race. Anyone else on CA planning to do Rolex 24 or Sebring?

No.

BTW Matt. I hear Taco Bell have a $1.99 special offer on spicy barbequed beef curtains. Tried them yet? I bet they're nice with a side order of Jack Daniels refried piles.

Andy - I make it my business to steer well clear of Taco Hell. Eating road-kill would do nothing for my cultured image. Skyline Chilli and Tropigrill by contrast, are quite delish and are much more acceptable gringo cuisine.
'Thinking outside the bun' can get you in all manner of trouble, no error.

Sub-Way did it for me. Indigestion on a Norris-Mcf***ing Whirter scale, when the little guy asked if I wanted relish, I didn't realise he meant about 100ml of every type of mustard/salsa/chilli/mayo he had to hand. I read with horror that they won some sort of non-junkfood award, and even worse, they've started appearing in the UK. They could be challenging that hallowed place held by the kebab for the "I'm so p*ssed I can't see, speak or breath unaided, but I must eat, and I must eat NOW!" award.
But them if you must, but then put them in your pants.
H

Taco Bell!! The local illegal border jumpers won't even touch rodent in a tortilla.  Doing more than running for the border after eating that stuff.  I'll take my chances with White Castle's rectum rockets (remember those Matt?)
John

You got it right, H. Subway - Eat Fresh! They have this geek on their ads called Jared, who used to weigh a metric ton (said in Dr Evil voice) and by eating Subway hoagies all day has now become a 9 stone weakling.

Strange this, because it has had the opposite effect on me.

I am rather partial to the foot-long Italian Chicken filet with double bacon and provolone.

As the old saying goes, you are what you eat. I wonder if that's why I'm such a tw*t.......

Do I ever! They're called Crystal Burgers down here in FL

RECTUM ROCKETS!!!
My eyes are still watering and buttocks are clenched at the thought. Are we talking solid fuel and heat seeking? (nowhere to run, nowhere to hide). Reminds me of a particularly oily estate agent that hangs around street corners in these parts.
Then again, Im almost sure they could figure in one of those enduringly affectionate memories I have of childhood confectionary. Aniseed balls, flying saucers, liquorice twist, rectum rockets. It almost fits.
"A quarter of Rectum Rockets please sir, and some Mars Attacks."
It sounds terribly familiar.
Or, Fax, was it a formula 1 driver from the seventies? I can almost hear Murray screaming "and here comes Heskeths Rectum Rocket screaming in from a long way behind!!"
Jeez, they're not kidding when they say fast food's bad for you...
H

Cant beat a foot long in Italian Herb and Cheese bread , and the Sub Melt filling , all the veggies and chipottle sauce with a little honey mustard.

Dinner Time i think.

Hi H,
Whitey's serve these little square burgers, steam grilled and smothered in grilled onions on a tiny little bun, best served with a mound of greasy deep fried onion chips on the side.  The whole restaurant is mostly made out of stainless steel, hence their nickname "The Aluminum Room". They're open 24 hours so they're a favorite among the "just staggered from the pub when they threw us out" crowd.  So the Hesketh guys probably would've loved it.  Also the owner of the White Castle at the corner of 16th & Georgetown sponsored Cheap Mead's Eagle-Chevy that just barely failed to qualify for the 1981 Indy 500.
This talk of food's killing me!

Fax, your posting caught me on the hop - I was talking on the phone to the boss when your 'Rectum Rockets' posting popped-up on my screen. It became a difficult conversation to continue.
White Castle burgers kind of went in the same way they came out. i.e. unchanged by the human digestive tract. In my case, they made the act of defecation similar to pebble-dashing a garage wall. Most unsettling.

Bwerppp! Gag! Garrggg! You just knew there was going to be a new Zarse puking gag in here somewhere. No wonder Jared is a nine stone puff.

I have only been to Subway once and never again. Queenstown New Zealand last year. I had been on a ten hour bender with my pal from Newcastle and following a refreshing three hours kip, we had to drive back to Christchurch about five hours away for the cricket test match. Breakfast was called for, and lo and behold, a Subway hove into sight. We werent really concentrating when we ordered, just asked the spotty buffoon behind the counter to load 'em right up.

I could only eat half mine before it was ejected through the car window, falling at the feet of some lucky backpackers. To be fair it had virtually dropped to bits anyway with all the sauce and multicoloured gunk in it. My mate managed to finish his tho. Anyway about an hour later we were paked by the road, spewing copiously into the gutter. (It was nothing to do with the previous night's beer and 80 fags, I might add.)

Less of a Rectum Rocket, more like a Throat Stoat in my opinion. And real bad gas all week.

I can see the post  from Zarse now. After a day celebrating the rugby world cup parade, I left "Sub Way" and put my elbow in a pile of sick.!!!!  ;D

Scariest part of our trip to Queenstown for Xmas 2000 was when we had done the shotover jets. On the ride I had thought they were mad b*st*rds but that evening we found oursleves in a club where we met our shotover jet driver totally p*ssed out of his head. "Day off tomorrow" quips I. "Nope, driving at 8 in the morning" says he. "You weren't p*ssed last night though were you though" I query. "Haven't sobered up for the last week" he confirms!! Mad gits apparently the lot of them, but well worth the trip!!!!  ;D


Silly o'clock in Vegas in the summer we grabbed two from the Sub Way in our hotel. By the time we had made it upstairs to our room they had disintegrated the bun and gone half way through the bag as they had so much gunk in them. Fortunately we avoided recriminations by just throwing them straight in the bin!  :(