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Originally Posted by Steve Jordan
Okay... here goes nothin
...
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That weren't nothin'! That was...
beautiful ~sniff~, just beautiful!. Brought a genuine tear to this old MC's eye, which is pretty impressive, since I had my tear ducts removed in '78 for the Milky Way Olympics when I competed for the team of The Great Platitudinal Nebula of Omnithorincus in the "Kick Them In The Bollocks 'Til They Cry" event (disqualified, naturally. "Steel-capped Blundstones with a toe-spike give an unfair advantage" they said. "Look, your competitor's knee-deep in his own viscera" they said. Yeah, yeah, whinge, whinge, frackin' whinge. If you wanted me to play fair you would have had a metal detector at the door, not to mention an x-ray machine, and an explosives-sniffer. That was a great year - the Olympics certainly ended with a bang, anyway).
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Marco, I'm exhausted! Get me a rum-runner! Oh, and get my optometrist on the phone...
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Done, and done.
(BTW, nobody ever calls me "Marco". Even down here in the Great Brown Land, where antipodean fashion is to add "-o" to people's names as a sort-of nick', they add it to "Steve" and "Shane" and "Sean", but I've known only one person to add it to my name, where it actually fits. No, instead, they try (only once) to call me "Marcus", which I hate with a passion. I hate the name, "Marcus" like a paper-cut hates salt-and-vinegar chips. If you want to aggravate me, call me "Marcus". [Note: next person that calls me "Marcus" is getting a marlin inserted in their eye, pointy bit first] "Marco" though...yeah, I like. Thanks.
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Cheers,
Marc(o)