A long time ago a bumped into a Scotsman.... or was it a Korean fellow, I always get those 2 mixed up. Anyway, they offered me to go outside for some fisticuffs. I, of course, refused since I am a gentleman and don't like to catch germs from the riff-raff. So instead I offered them the use of my motor-coach, or was it my washing machine? Either way he left happy and I got very, very drunk on an exotic elixir from the Africas.
I enjoy Um-bongo. An associate once informed me they drink it in the Congo. Fascinating people.
While fighting in the war I met a man-child called Gregory. We bonded and soon he became my favourite pet, constantly rolling over so I could scratch his belly, nuzzling my crotch and fetching my slippers. Shame I had to put him down. I still remember those doe eyes, almost like he was a person. So sad.
Recently I have grown a new found hatred for the colour orange, English farts and the month of May. I find proponents of these things to be nothing more than bottom feeding scoundrels not worthy to grease my beard with their salty, SALTY tears. I would not extinguish them if alight with my hosing number ones.
Did I mention I was very, very drunk?

Chin chin..

*My kids use my account to play their games. So if the game is a bit "kiddie" there is every chance one of them is playing...so don't be an arse.*