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oliveau
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just stick a plug in it can you ?

Just a thought did we claim for the fingers in those fingerless gloves? I am not sure if we will get away with saying that this is actually in the rules.

Dickie thought about the expenses list that he had just submitted and that Jaqui had rubberstamped.

It was the first time that he had actually thought about that list. He was often seen in the Redditch car park searching the empty trollys for receipts left by people so that he could add them to the pile that he was to claim for. For once in his life he felt a small pang of.....................

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a task accomplished.  In his insignificant, back-up role to the Home Secretary, he often feels a sense of under-achievement, not helped by his wife rubbing his nose in it at every opportunity.

Now, of course, there is the affair of Bob Quick who has resigned over revealing a list of terrorist suspects to the press at large and Jacqui has said that Quick's position had become "untenable".  Of course, Dickie knows his own wife's position would NEVER become untenable and she would NEVER have the grace to resign; so he feels that what little crumbs of comfort he can derive for boosting up the expenses claims are to be savoured.

Alas, now the expenses are being looked at more closely and he'd have to find other devious ways of getting items past the inspection.  Now, what next outrageous expense can he claim?

He thinks long and hard (OK, pun intended!) and comes up with.....

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Quick as a flash[:)] get a whole list of diversionary press releases to remove the spotlight from porno Jacqui; it doesn't matter how silly or horrid they are, gosh there are so many, how about The police: Unaccountable, secretive and out of control; plus you know, that policeman bashing a protestor who was just trying to go home, O . . O . . O . . o an electric car for everyone, powered by coal fired generating stations, and dahling rejecting the option to abolish the basic rate of income tax on savings income O . . O . . O . . o Then that poor old weak pound heaps food price inflation on poorest households, British Hospital A&E departments are a war zone, Gosh that's just one day, that should do it, Gosh I hope we can make it to the Recess then . . . . .
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prevent an organic farmer whose family has made goat's cheese for six generations from selling his cheese; but he is evading new European Union food regulations by selling his produce as "animal feed".

"I told the food hygiene inspectors that it was not worth all that investment as I only make three to four kilos of cheese a day," either olive-filled or spice-covered cheese. I asked what I should do with my cheese, and they said feed it to the chickens. So that's exactly what I'm doing - selling it to people for their chickens, horses and pigs, all classified as animal fodder."

He said he is not responsible for what his customers do with the cheese, and has put up a sign outside his farm to that effect.

"Goat's cheese made from non-pasteurised milk. Hand kneaded. Recipe kept for six generations, Absolutely failing to meet EU norms, therefore designated for animal feeding purposes. Tested on people."  Armies of health inspectors have taken to standing outside the farm, interviewing customers about what they plan to do with the cheese. One customer, a pensioner living in a one-bedroom flat whose only pet was a goldfish, denied eating it himself, saying . . .

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that he fed it to the feral cats living in his neighbourhood.  He was immediately sorry that he said that because the Environmental Arm of the Big Brother Brigade threatened to round up the cats and exterminate them!

Of course, as he lives in a one-bedroom flat in the middle of a big city, feral cats are few and far between so he decides to.........

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become a pirate (Aharrh Jim lad), inspired by another pirate, who lived and died in the fourth century BC. He was captured and brought to Alexander the Great, who demanded to know "what he meant by keeping possession of the sea." The pirate smiled, and responded: "because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a robber, while you, who do it with a great fleet, are called emperor." Once again, the great fleets sail and . . .
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with the wind filling up the canvas, they make good speed.  Perhaps we ought to use these sailing ships rather than modern boats, catamarans and so on that just get snarled up in difficulties what with smugglers and so on off the Somali coast.

Talking about things nautical and coastal, I believe that...

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charge an arm and a leg so perhaps they are pirates as well?  I know lots on here will slap my wrist and say what a lovely experience sailing with BF is.  I don't disagree that it's quite an enjoyable thing altogether but.............
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ceremonies like Crossing the Line where they have highjinks when traversing the equator sound like a lora lora fun!  Talking about Crossing the Line, can  you think of anything else you might like to cross?

For example, how about....

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crossing the channel without being blockaded[:)], or feeling one has been ripped off would be good, without feeling like one has crossed the rubicon; but by far the best is someone who will cross your palm with silver for some small respectable pleasurable service that would not make anyone cross, such as . . .
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