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Date: 2007-02-18 05:09 pm (UTC)With a bit more background, I am sure your f-list could come up with something suitable.
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Date: 2007-02-18 05:25 pm (UTC)"Pox on you for a fop, your stomach too queasy. Cannot I belch and fart, you coxcomb, to ease me? What if I let fly in your face and shall please ye?"
Origin here (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_compositions_by_Henry_Purcell#Catches).
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Date: 2007-02-18 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 09:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 05:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 06:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 06:26 pm (UTC)"somewhere in the English countryside, there's a bridge with no border controls"
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Date: 2007-02-18 06:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-19 02:14 am (UTC)"I wouldn't go down on you if I were drowning and your balls were filled with oxygen."
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Date: 2007-02-19 02:28 am (UTC)Bah humbug! Your father eats leeks!
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Date: 2007-02-19 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-19 04:02 pm (UTC)But really, my all-time favorite is a long story from A Treasury of American Folklore by B. A. Botkin. Probably too long to recount here, it is a campfire-tale that ends in a magnificent insult of Texans.