Against that sort of wit and intellectualism I am defenceless. I retire, mortally injured by the rapier-like talons of this superior mind.
He speaks nine languages (including, apparently fluent 'emoticon'), thus affording him opportunities beyond our ken to wound with his words. But, Winstun, the consummate master of unarmed intellectual combat responds with the pithy "get a life". (No, I don't have a lisp)
Not for our Winstun the drudgery of facts. No, our Winnie can impress upon us his achievements and calibre merely by repeatedly requesting a bone. Not content with just any bone, however, our mild-mannered hero wants a bone designed specifically for 'friggin'. His desperate cries ring out across cyberspace, as he craves a good 'friggin'. When will our hero achieve his aim?
Through subtle hints and innuendo, he attempts to seek those of his ilk:
Boofta, do you pronounce your name starting with a high toned p ?
but is left, stood up at the altar once more.
(Perhaps you should ask if he likes gladiator movies?) Poor, sad wretched Winnie Pooh. Who will give him the 'friggin bone' he so deparately longs for?
PS Winnie, you said you speak eight languages
in addition to your native English.
Here Now you are saying that it is a
total of eight. Best to keep the story consistent, for artistic continuity if not credibility.
Once more: It was
five ATPLs,
nine languages, an indeterminate number of astronaut 'colleagues', a large number of lives saved in 'war zones' using ABC paper-backs and several lawyers assisted in legal matters. We need to keep this well controlled, Winnie, or your credibility might be damaged and we could not let that happen to a man of your calibre.
Being just an average yobbo, I did find the French
'sentance' (must be Yoorapean for 'sentence') hard to grasp, so I thank you for your consideration. 'Mon raison' translates into yobbese much better than 'ma raison', but I am still stuffed if I can work out where the raisins come in (either yours or your ma's).