The following Dodgers have been smited by the JDK for their crimes against Jam:
All the girls! for picking on the JDK and damaging his already delicate self esteem!
The Basserd Who Nicked Copper's Stuff For the offense of nicking Copper's stuff. You are a tw*t, whoever you are and we all hope you get run over by a tram in Nottingham. Or Liverpool. Or whereever else they have trams!
Copper For the crime of playing with her Wii instead of her Jammie pals!
Y'know it occurs to me that we should be due for our first Jammie Anniversary sometime soon. It's kinda hard to tell when the bored thread first appeared on UA (on account of being deleted), but this thread, which appeared at about the same time time seems to indicate that it was the beginning of July.
Ive said it before - ireland is the perfect place - its nearly halfway after all
and we sure no how to rock - not to mention we have the best guinness ever (i know this isnt much consolation to DD but some sacrifices have to be made) - and some pretty good cider as well for the laydees -Magners and Bulmers or strongbow if you dont want it too sweet
ireland is quite obviously the middle country between england and the usa.. not in miles, but in actual 'being'
i agree with joe, and he gets 20 votes for being Nirish - and Nate, may i take a moment to remind you how a vote for the usa would be a wasted vote (you're the only one there mate) .. so why not vote for the next nearest country - the one in the middle, ireland
A Scottish old-timer in Scotland, in a bar, talking to a young man.
"Lad, look out there to the field. Do ya see that fence? Look how well it's built. I built that fence stone by stone with me own two hands. Piled it for months. But do they call me 'McGregor, The Fence Builder'? Nooo.."
Then the old man gestured at the bar.
"Look here at the bar. Do ya see how smooth and just it is? I planed that surface down by me own achin' back. I carved that wood with me own hard labor, for eight days. But do they call me 'McGregor, The Bar Builder'? Nooo..."
Then the old man points out the window.
"Eh, Laddy, look out to sea. Do ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it board by board. But do they call me 'McGregor, The Pier Builder'? Nooo..."
Then the old man looks around nervously, trying to make sure no one is paying attention.
Back to the topic in hand, I shall indeed be in Ireland, weekend after next, who's going to join me?
And Joe! Shocking behaviour! Never had you down as the sexist type! I'll have you know I can drink gallons of Guinness (over an unspecified period of time), but cannot stand cider.