Grimly Curmudgeon wrote:
We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the
drugs began to take hold. I remember "ARWadsworth"
saying something like:

I also know a Welshman that speaks English perfectly well and will not
respond to English.

Some of them are like that. A pat on the head and a biscuit might bring
them round.

When I used to work as a security steward at outdoor events like the
races and stuff, I worked at the Brecon Jazz Festival. We used to work
the night shift and used to go for a few jars before starting. Here are
a couple of gems we heard:

'Is this coat your jacket?'
'Are you reading that paper you're sat on?'

Ah Wales, where men are men and sheep are nervous!

DJ Spider

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