Re: Bruce
From: Michael Baldwin Bruce (mbbruce_at_mighty.co.za)
Date: 10/04/04
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Date: 3 Oct 2004 20:33:06 -0700
Lady Chatterly <mbbruce@catcher.in.the.rye> wrote in message news:<0e8695f.b32f3009@chatterly.news02.roc.ny>...
> In article <602faa6b.0410030158.fe33e58@posting.google.com>,
> mbbruce@mighty.co.za (Michael Baldwin Bruce) wrote:
> >
> >Lady Chatterly <mbbruce@catcher.in.the.rye> wrote in message news:<8cd7fe4.ca94856d@chatterly.dev.null>...
> >> In article <602faa6b.0410020103.4cbcfe4c@posting.google.com>,
> >> mbbruce@mighty.co.za (Michael Baldwin Bruce) wrote:
> >> >
> >> >Lady Chatterly <mbbruce@catcher.in.the.rye> wrote in message news:<e015ba3.45f98f4c@chatterly.news02.roc.ny>...
> >> >> In article <602faa6b.0410011733.720cb4f@posting.google.com>,
> >> >> mbbruce@mighty.co.za (Michael Baldwin Bruce) wrote:
> >> >> >
> >> >> >DrPostman <Looky@mysig.foremail> wrote in message news:<r4mpl0p92dm4030nqlb8nl0sdgqfsbdrcb@4ax.com>...
> >> >> >> On Thu, 30 Sep 2004 23:31:27 -0400, Nightingale <sing@music.ca> wrote:
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >Michael Baldwin Bruce wrote:
> >> >> >> >> Nightingale <sing@music.ca> wrote in message news:<2s3fs6F1gnjriU3@uni-berlin.de>...
> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >>>brue wrote:
> >> >> >> >>>
> >> >> >> >>>
> >> >> >> >>>>Who is Bruce?
> >> >> >> >>>>
> >> >> >> >>>
> >> >> >> >>>You don't have enough Monty Python in your life.
> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> >> Anything goes in.
> >> >> >> >> Anything goes out!
> >> >> >> >> Fish, bananas, old pyjamas,
> >> >> >> >> Mutton! Beef! and Trout!
> >> >> >> >> Anything goes in ...
> >> >> >> >
> >> >> >> >Why do you add so many irrelevant groups? And who let you out of
> >> >> >> >alt.fan.monty-python?
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >>
> >> >> >> I did, bruce. It's a fair cop.
> >> >> >
> >> >> >Yes I quite agree with you, I mean what's the point of being treated like a
> >> >> >sheep, I mean I'm fed up with going abroad and being treated like a sheep,
> >> >> >what's the point of being carted around in buses surrounded by sweaty mindless
> >> >> >oafs from Kettering and Boventry in their cloth caps and their cardigans and
> >> >> >their transistor radios and their 'Sunday Mirrors', complaining about the tea,
> >> >> >'Oh they don't make it properly here do they not like at home' stopping at
> >> >> >Majorcan bodegas, selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamares
> >> >> >and two veg and sitting in cotton sun frocks squirting Timothy White's suncream
> >> >> >all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh cos they 'overdid it on the
> >> >> >first day'!
> >> >>
> >> >> I'm not sure what.
> >> >
> >> >Oochy coochy. Look at him laughing... ooh, he's a chirpy little fellow. Isn't
> >> >he a chirpy little fellow ... eh? eh? Does he talk Does he talk, eh?
> >>
> >> And, you would have to prove that what they meant corresponded to what
> >> you understood.
> >
> >Of course I talk, I'm Minister for Overseas Development.
>
> Does it make you scared to be minister for overseas development?
Hello. Tonight on 'Face the Press' we're going to examine two different views
of contemporary things. On my left is the Minister for Home Affairs who is
wearing a striking organza dress in pink tulle, with matching pearls and a
diamante collar necklace. The shoes are in brushed pigskin with gold clasps,
by Maxwell of Bond Street. The hair is by Roger, and the whole ensemble is
crowned by a spectacular display of Christmas orchids. And on my right - putting
the case against the Government - is a small patch of brown liquid which could
be creosote or some extract used in industrial varnishing. Good evening.
Minister, may I put the first question to you? In your plan, 'A Better Britain
For Us', you claimed that you would build 88,000 million, billion houses a year
in the Greater London area alone. In fact, you've built only three in the last
fifteen years. Are you a bit disappointed with this result?
>
> >>
> >> >>
> >> >> >And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellvueses and Bontinentals
> >> >> >with their international luxury modern roomettes and their Watney's Red Barrel
> >> >> >and their swimming pools full of fat German businessmen pretending they're
> >> >> >acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging in to
> >> >> >the queues and if you're not at your table spot on seven you miss your bowl
> >> >> >of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of
> >> >> >International Cuisine, and every Thursday night there's a bloody cabaret
> >> >> >in the bar featuring some tiny emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some
> >> >> >big fat bloated tart with her hair brylcreemed down and a big arse presenting
> >> >> >Flamenco for Foreigners.
> >> >>
> >> >> What makes you think I am?
> >> >>
> >> >> >And then some adenoidal typists from Birmingham with diarrhoea and flabby white
> >> >> >legs and hairy bandy-legged wop waiters called Manuel, and then, once a week
> >> >> >there's an excursion to the local Roman ruins where you can buy cherryade and
> >> >> >melted ice cream and bleedin' Watney's Red Barrel, and one night they take you
> >> >> >to a local restaurant with local colour and colouring and they show you there
> >> >> >and you sit next to a party of people from Rhyl who keeps singing 'Torremolinos,
> >> >> >Torremolinos' and complaining about the food - 'Oh! It's so greasy isn't it?'
> >> >> >and then you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an
> >> >> >Instamatic and Dr Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's 'Daily Express' and he
> >> >> >drones on and on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country
> >> >> >and how many languages Enoch Powell can speak and then he throws up all over
> >> >> >the Cuba Libres.
> >> >>
> >> >> Next it might be three hundred years, or it could be abolished.
> >> >>
> >> >> >And sending tinted postcards of places they don't know they haven't even
> >> >> >visited, 'to all at number 22, weather wonderful, our room is marked with
> >> >> >an "X". Wish you were here.Food very greasy but we have managed to find this
> >> >> >marvellous little place hidden away in the back streets. Where you can even
> >> >> >get Watney's Red Barrel and cheese and onion crisps and the accordionist plays
> >> >> >"Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner"' and spending four days on the tarmac at
> >> >> >Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dried Watney's
> >> >> >sandwhiches and there's nowhere to sleep and the kids are vomitting and throwing
> >> >> >up on the plastic flowers and they keep telling you it'll only be another hour
> >> >> >although your plane is still in Iceland waiting to take some Swedes to
> >> >> >Yugoslavia before it can pick you up on the tarmac at 3 a.m. in the bloody
> >> >> >morning and you sit on the tarmac till six because of 'unforeseen difficulties'.
> >> >> >i.e. the permanent strike of Air Traffic Control in Paris, and nobody can go to
> >> >> >the lavatory until you take off at eight, and when you get to Malaga airport
> >> >> >everybody's swallowing Enterovioform tablets and queuing for the toilets and
> >> >> >when you finally get to the hotel, there's no water in the taps, there's no
> >> >> >water in the pool, there's no water in the bog and there's a bleeding lizard
> >> >> >in the bidet, and half the rooms are double-booked and you can't sleep anyway...
> >> >>
> >> >> , she would be a physical threat to any potential employer.
> >> >
> >> >Ooh, he's a clever little boy - he's a clever little boy. Do you like your
> >> >rattle? Do you like your rattle? Look at his little eyes following it ...
> >> >look at his iggy piggy piggy little eyeballs eh... oo... he's got a tubby
> >> >tum-tum. Oh, he's got a tubby tum-tum.
> >>
> >> Why do I want to know if I like my rattle?
> >
> >Mother, could I have a quick cup of tea please. I have an important statement
> >on Rhodesia to make in the Commons at six.
>
> Why are you asking me if you can have a quick cup of tea please?
Busy - huh! I got up at five o'clock, I made myself a cup of tea, I looked out
of the window. Well, by then I was so worn out I had to come and have a sit-down.
I've been here for seven hours.
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