Friday, February 24, 2006

I'm afraid that the time has come to rip Neil Harding a new arsehole. However, to correct his multifarious idiocies is going to take time, patience, booze and a massive amount of raw bile.

Alas, buggering off, as I am this evening, to a party in some god-forsaken cave somewhere near Rosslyn, is not going to allow me the required time in which to prepare this cornucopia of wrath, so I am going to save it.

Let slip the dogs of war...

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Moonbat still loony

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