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About ThistleWhistle

  • Birthday 04/21/1980

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    BabeStation's Futon
  4. Watched every minute of the World Cup but this tournament passed me by. Groups were dull and then got worse. Wwtched a few games on highlights and a few didn't even bother at all. My interest in football has defo dropped but this is the worst tournament in terms of internationals I can remember.
  5. I was watching Countdown about a month back with few days off from work when saw an advert for Senokot. Hadn't has a shit in three days and struggling to bend so thought that was the stuff for me. Next day, I thought I had an 8 letter bute but couldn't hang about for Sussie Dent to verify it as couldn't stop shitting. Luckily I got back just in time to catch an imodium based advert and bought a dose. Consequently I didn't have a shit for three days. I'm now locked in a cycle addicted to both. Even the Tesco driver is smirking at me when he delivers my weekly three kilo bananas, prune juice and ten rolls of Bounty. I can't help having a schizophrenic arse!
  6. I think he is wrong about Mein Kampf too. There's no way he could have climbed to the top if his manifesto from the off stated he wanted to cull 6 million jews and 5 million others. Only read bits (christ it is badly written hate filled pish) but remember seeing a program on History about it and a couple of articles after in which all stated it was deeply anti-semitic but never stipulated he intended to kill them off. At that point the plan was shipping them to Madagascar. They actually looked at doing this with Polish Jews but postponed it after losing the Battle of Britain. Then there were speeches in October and December 1940 where the Final Solution has then been decided. Off topic but something I found interesting was after school and basic media exposure I thought Germany was totally Nazi. In the 32 elections they got 30 and 37%. In 1933, even with brown coats kicking the shit out of folk, this dropped to 33%. Milliband got 30% in our last election as comparison and he iscridiculed for being unpopular.
  7. There is a limitation in the Telegraph Article in that it'll only include income hmrc is aware of surely? Maybe idealistic but if the top 1% own/earn the same as the lowest 55% then their contributions should be similar. I don't share the view we should be thankful to the 10% that their moral compass has graced us with a third of our tax return and they haven't jetted off to an even more loopholed climate.
  8. Got a greyhound and a 14 month toddler. Dog sleeps 18 hours a day, one half hour walk and totally sound with wee lass. We leave dog in the kitchen when baby is about and she's happy. Best 100 quid ever spent from Scottish Greyhound Sanctury.
  9. Wolfie lad I hope 2016 will be to you what 15 was to me. Our wee lass 1st birthday was in December and watching her grow over that year has been amazing. Also have a nephew who is three weeks older than wee lass so watching them together is simply wonderful. My brother got married and had a winner of a weekend with her French family over who totally fell in love with the place. My cousin got married in Ireland and in to a wonderful family. He lost his mum a few years back so was brilliant to see him so happy. Both ladies in question are both more attractive than either of my family members and could defo handle themselves in a pub fight so welcome additions. In my job I'm bored daft. I get home every nght for 6 and keeps us comfy so even at my most pissed off I realise time is more important than anything. Football - Scotland v Georgia was awful. Stoke- Playing stuff beyond my wildest dreams. Dundee United- pish.
  10. Seeing this front four on the teamsheet Arnautovic Afellay Shaqiri Bojan Stoke fans will speak aboutthis side for years and got to enjoy it while it lasts.
  11. My granddad was just a boy on the merchant ships. He got a change of ship off his usual then saw it blown up in convoy two days later. Total head to realise that's how close a chunk of my family were to never existing. He always told my old man the poppy was to remember everyone because it represented the futility of war. It's origins are in a Canadian poem 'In Flanders Fields'. Moina Michael, a US YWCA worker, penned the following response: Oh! you who sleep in Flanders Fields, Sleep sweet - to rise anew! We caught the torch you threw And holding high, we keep the Faith With All who died. We cherish, too, the poppy red That grows on fields where valor led; It seems to signal to the skies That blood of heroes never dies, But lends a lustre to the red Of the flower that blooms above the dead In Flanders Fields. And now the Torch and Poppy Red We wear in honor of our dead. Fear not that ye have died for naught; We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought In Flanders Fields She handed out 25 silk red poppies at a YWCA conference in 1918 and that is where the tradition started with France attempting to adopt it thereafter before spreading to the UK in 1921. The lesson was the futility of war and I personally think this concept has been completely lost.
  12. add to that the suspensions that got overturned after they'd trained all week as having them missing.
  13. Dear Flora Our dog died recently and my wife evidently resents the fact I have not succumbed to Princess Diane levels of mourning. Understandably, she was very fond of the mutt as she cherry picked all the good jobs. I, on the other hand, was left to the 6.30am walks, the increasingly frequent dog arse hair grooming due to it's losing battle with continence and picking jobby out of the rug if I'd been tardy with the clippers so our relationship, at best, was tepid. Don't misjudge me as a cold man but our relationship hit a hurdle that I could never fully recover from a few years back. I always wanted the dog to sleep downstairs but the first night he whimpered for all of 20 seconds and my wife folded like a pack of cards so he was allowed upstairs. Having a dog in the bedroom does nowt for the mood but so long as he was asleep everything was fine. One night though I was getting my freak fully on with Mrs Whistle, lights on and everything, when I caught him out of the corner of my eye fixated on something about half way down the bed. It broke my concentration off of Katrina from Accounts because I was now trying to work out what he was mesmerized by. Then his head moved ever so slightly; then a couple of times more quickly; then a very pronounced up and down; then I knew he was staring at my arse. I carried on servicing the wife and somehow got from A to B but all the time in my peripheral vision it was like the Duke boys had taken out insurance with Churchill and stuck the nodding dog in the back of General Lee. It was as if they'd nipped to pick up Daisy, hit about half a mile of speed bumps through Hazard High Street, a couple of traffic calming chicanes, a random stretch of cobbled road with a couple of pot holes, jumped Rosco P. Coltrane's police car, jumped Boss Hogg's car, juddered on the shot to shit suspension for a couple of seconds before smashing in to a tree. From then on I vowed only to sort my wife out when the dog was almost comatose. Three weeks later the dog is snoring, Match of the Day has got to the crap games and Mrs Whistle hasn't said 'No' within the last three hours so I'm on it. I'm having a great time when I suddenly hear a fart. The first second I thought it was the mrs, and we've been together long enough for me to call her a skank without risk of intercourse ceasing, but straight after there is a bark so the dog has woke itself up with it's own backside emissions. He stretches and sits at his favourite spot so he can observe my arse in action. The only way this could be better for him is if someone gave him his balls back to lick at the same time. I'm not having it though and I chuck a pillow at him whereby he disappears to the other end of the room. After about 30 seconds the voice in my head is no longer Katrina demanding me to bang her on the copier and send email copies of her backside to her boss but my own enquiring as to where the f*** that dog is. Just as I'm about to look down the bed I feel the cold wet nose nuzzle between my buttocks and before I can smack him round the head he has sniffed so hard I can hear his lungs strain. For three months I did not have sex afterwards. Even when she stops wearing black and returns to normality sex is ruined for me anyway. The moment our baby was born my first thought was how wonderful life was and that nothing would be beyond me for this angel; my second thought was 'look at that big square head!!!' My wife carries a donor card and god forbid something ever happening to her but she doesn't drink or smoke so lots of useful organs there plus now someone in the burns unit could get a new set of ears out of her vulva. We were on the beach on our summer holiday and I was trying to find where the panpipe music was coming from but it was due to the breeze blowing between her bikini bottoms as we walked. As such, could you recommend a dog with a bald arse, short snout and propensity for minding it's own business and any tips for a man with a family saloon but a double garage to park it in please? Cheers TW