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For Painless Or Other British Cousins


SkyPup

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  • 1. DDz Quorum

a zebra crossing is a black and white striped area of a road that is marked up for pedestrians to cross at.

A "Humped" crossing is one that has been raised in the road, bit like a speed hump (no that is not in, out, in out, "thanks miss" and leave)

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Touche, Fruitbat.

I've honestly never understood the appeal of baseball but it does give an excuse to go out and have expensive junk food, washed down with even more expensive beer. And when anything cheer-worthy happens (it does actually occur every hour or so), one can stand up to applaud while ordering another beer. We here in the colonies really know how to live it up!

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  • 2. Administrators

Its always struck me that there are many parallels between baseball and cricket, not the rules themselves but in the spectating, similar pace, and beer...... cricket grounds are lined with wonderful beer tents B)

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  • 1. DDz Quorum

Simples...

Cricket: As explained to a foreigner...

You have two sides, one out in the field and one in.

Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out.

When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side thats been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out.

Sometimes you get men still in and not out.

When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in.

There are two men called umpires who stay all out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out.

When both sides have been in and all the men have been got out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out,

that is the end of the game!

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Ahhhhhh! Now I get it! Well, not really, you see I was just lying there a bit, but in my defense I've never really understood a damn thing any of you Brits have said in the past 6 years I've been here, so well, I guess I'm just trying to be polite.

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Oh come on now.

You UK Dogz should tell the truth about Cricket, after all you are among friends here.

In point of fact, Cricket is a bizarre British sexual fetish. Which strangely enough, is enjoyed by the Indians as well.

If you need to be convinced, just consider the terms used in the game.

"Pitch", "Sticky Wickets" and best of all "Creases", ....... the entire game just oozes with sexual innuendoes.

Cricket is basically a British form of Foreplay, sort of like the Germans with their latex and rubber fetish.

Of course the German latex fetish involves both males and females, while Cricket is male only.

Not that there is anything wrong with that. ;)

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As it happens, I'm on another London layover. I'll forego cricket and zebras, humped or otherwise. If you guys never hear from me again it's because I've been run down by a bus while looking the wrong way crossing the street.

Cheers, mates.

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  • 1. DDz Quorum

~S~ BA old chum,

My fondest memories of playing "rugger" are of things that happened off the pitch and some hours later !!! :occasion14:

I remember having an 18 stone prop forward sitting on my lap telling me what lovely green eyes I had only moments before we had a fight !! :roflmao:

I suppose that IS a bit kinky ?

~S~ Shameless.

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Rugby made me gay! :wacko:

Well, not really, but you have to have been there to know the feeling. Five foot nothing, on a cold muddy field, half blind from not wearing my spectacles and surrounded by hulking, mud-covered hoodlums, suddenly someone throws a slimy leather bladder into my arms. "Pass it" screams the mob, so I do; straight into the welcoming arms of the opposite side's fly something or other. Trust me - I'm not so bothered.

It certainly beats getting jumped on by half a dozen pit-props and having my face forced into the freezing slush that coats the playing field while someone rips off bits of my shirt, shorts and body to get at the pointy thing :blink:

No, not that pointy thing. That one has sensibly retreated into my body to evade the biting easterly wind driving straight from the steppe and over this particular patch of Wormwood Scrubs. No, it's that pointed leather thing that everyone seems obsessed about. Someone tears off with it anyway and scores, and it ain't my side.

I know I'm going to suffer the derision, and worse, of the team; and prepare myself to be last into the tiled pool of lukewarm water, mud, blood and urine that poses as a bath. Another Wednesday afternoon totally wasted.

Luckily there was an alternative - swimming! Strictly for poofs according to the rugger lads, but I take to it like a, well, duck to water. Clean water at that, and you don't need twenty-twenty vision to swim :P A pair of natty goggles to keep the chlorine out of the eyes is enough, and a pair of sharkskin briefs. I eventually represented the school for several years, and went on to join the Lime Grove Penguins to race at club level. Later I took up canoeing and yachting; great fun and really exhilarating, and no mud anywhere! ;)

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