Salvation
Damnation
Spasticology is the study of spastic behaviour,
Unlike Spasteologists, who discover these people with spastic nature.
Unlike Spasteologists, who discover these people with spastic nature.
Salvation said:Spasticology is the study of spastic behaviour,
Unlike Spasteologists, who discover these people with spastic nature.
sincher said:No I haven't. I was composing. Have that.
I can't tell you just how much I hate,
When rushing to work (I'm usually late),
To switch the local radio on,
Only to hear a fecking Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime
Spraffing away, on this, on that -
This fecking spastic ‘breezy’ chat,
About the weather, or news, whatever
I think they think they're cocking clever,
But let me tell you - no they're not,
They should be knifed, or maybe shot
Or maybe flayed, and then castrated...
…I thought all this, then masturbated,
The rest of the day, and all of the night,
And then knew I was fecking right,
Cos the sounds that came from hand and cock
When I came into my old grey sock,
Were considerably more bright and clever
Than any cnut on local radio – ever,
So please Plech, hear my plaintive song,
Chuck Local DJs in 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And once they’re in, I’ll let them natter
With FIFA cockend, Joseph Blatter,
Or Sepp, as he’s known, the obvious gay,
Who justifies his massive pay,
By talking such unutterable shite,
Like scousers trying to say ‘Dirk Kuijt’
And adding twattish regulations,
Like punishing goal celebrations;
Banning all draws – that’s another aim,
‘Let silver goals decide the game’
You what? For feck’s sake, please just die,
With silver pins stuck in each eye,
Or eaten whole by a red setter,
Your view of football would be better
If blind, and dead, and yet I’d settle
For impaling you on a piece of metal,
Or even, throwing you headlong,
Directly into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
For my third choice, I’ll be more brief
Like a hooker giving hand relief
But only for five fun-packed seconds,
Until the next hot punter beckons,
She only fits in five quick wanks,
‘Yeah, thanks!’ As shit as High Street Banks,
Who won’t give you the time of day
Although they take your hard-earned pay
And give you really shit amounts
Of interest, in their wank accounts
You know I’m right, you know they’re wrong,
Just fling ‘em into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And next to last, not watersports,
They’re shit and pissy though – Airports
It’s like the worst twats in the world
Into one place have all been hurled
To wait for a retarded plane
And slowly, surely, go insane
‘Did you pack your bags yourself?’
‘No, I employed a tiny elf’
‘Do you have a bomb in your bag?’
‘Yeah, just for you, you fecking slag’
It makes me mad to write about ‘em
The world is better off without ‘em
So, please Plech, don’t delay too long,
Just send ‘em into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And finally, if you decree
That the level of spasticity
Of any of those is not enough,
Then my final vote, though this is tough,
Is to you, Plech - you’d have to be
A fecking Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime if you can’t see
The spastication of my list
You’d either be insane or pissed
To reprieve them from that hellish place
Where Drogba sucks on Kenyon’s face
And Keegan has a game of Jenga
With Sven, and Tord, and Arsene Wenger,
While Diarra, or should I call him Yatta,
Sucks off the devil, and then Sepp Blatter.
So don’t too anything too drastic,
Declare all four of my things spastic.
sincher said:No I haven't. I was composing. Have that.
I can't tell you just how much I hate,
When rushing to work (I'm usually late),
To switch the local radio on,
Only to hear a fecking Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime
Spraffing away, on this, on that -
This fecking spastic ‘breezy’ chat,
About the weather, or news, whatever
I think they think they're cocking clever,
But let me tell you - no they're not,
They should be knifed, or maybe shot
Or maybe flayed, and then castrated...
…I thought all this, then masturbated,
The rest of the day, and all of the night,
And then knew I was fecking right,
Cos the sounds that came from hand and cock
When I came into my old grey sock,
Were considerably more bright and clever
Than any cnut on local radio – ever,
So please Plech, hear my plaintive song,
Chuck Local DJs in 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And once they’re in, I’ll let them natter
With FIFA cockend, Joseph Blatter,
Or Sepp, as he’s known, the obvious gay,
Who justifies his massive pay,
By talking such unutterable shite,
Like scousers trying to say ‘Dirk Kuijt’
And adding twattish regulations,
Like punishing goal celebrations;
Banning all draws – that’s another aim,
‘Let silver goals decide the game’
You what? For feck’s sake, please just die,
With silver pins stuck in each eye,
Or eaten whole by a red setter,
Your view of football would be better
If blind, and dead, and yet I’d settle
For impaling you on a piece of metal,
Or even, throwing you headlong,
Directly into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
For my third choice, I’ll be more brief
Like a hooker giving hand relief
But only for five fun-packed seconds,
Until the next hot punter beckons,
She only fits in five quick wanks,
‘Yeah, thanks!’ As shit as High Street Banks,
Who won’t give you the time of day
Although they take your hard-earned pay
And give you really shit amounts
Of interest, in their wank accounts
You know I’m right, you know they’re wrong,
Just fling ‘em into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And next to last, not watersports,
They’re shit and pissy though – Airports
It’s like the worst twats in the world
Into one place have all been hurled
To wait for a retarded plane
And slowly, surely, go insane
‘Did you pack your bags yourself?’
‘No, I employed a tiny elf’
‘Do you have a bomb in your bag?’
‘Yeah, just for you, you fecking slag’
It makes me mad to write about ‘em
The world is better off without ‘em
So, please Plech, don’t delay too long,
Just send ‘em into 1-0-Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime.
And finally, if you decree
That the level of spasticity
Of any of those is not enough,
Then my final vote, though this is tough,
Is to you, Plech - you’d have to be
A fecking Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime if you can’t see
The spastication of my list
You’d either be insane or pissed
To reprieve them from that hellish place
Where Drogba sucks on Kenyon’s face
And Keegan has a game of Jenga
With Sven, and Tord, and Arsene Wenger,
While Diarra, or should I call him Yatta,
Sucks off the devil, and then Sepp Blatter.
So don’t too anything too drastic,
Declare all four of my things spastic.
Plechazunga said:Will get onto it...I've been on a bit of a bender
In the sense of, session, not Richter
Awww leave him alone..its his birthday!golden_blunder said:Slacker. I 2nd the motion to throw Plech into a room full of Ihni binni dimi diniwiny anitaime (ie. The transfer forum)
RedCanadian said:It's best to leave those Richter-type benders to marcos... he gets jealous!!
Classics forum!