Just when I thought that there was an end of help that I could give to the world, some poor lost soul found their way here by means of typing the phrase “I want a intercourse in Oswestry” into Theodore and Evadne Google’s search engine.
Now, some of you might be inclined to deduce from this that our new friend is a resident of Oswestry. I would not rush to share that view. I think that it is more likely that Oswestry has some arcane quality that enhances the female orgasm, or induces some priapic effect that is not available in
Of course, as you all know, the most famous son of Oswestry is the Reverend Spooner. So perhaps it is in the repetition of some unintentional spoonerist innuendo that the delights of this quaint town are best revealed. The prize for the best suggestion is unlikely to manifest.
35 comments:
I note he only wants one intercourse. Perhaps they have rules about this sort of thing in Oswestry.
Yes, but when he's had one, he may want another. Who knows where this sort of thing leads.
Isn't it AN intercourse? Just asking...
Having studied your admirable commentor care skills, I trust you had the answers he/she were looking for?
Carmentza, I fear that I must offer counsel against your looking for accuracy around here. In this case, however, that is what the perpetrator typed, and that is why they came here.
Beyond that, I cannot comment. A, An, Seven - it is all the same to me.
Cherrypie, I think he/she was looking for a shag, not an answer. If I am correct, then I have given as much help to them as I am prepared.
Do you have friends in Shropshire?
Vicus, if you really want to pimp your hits, find a way to combine the words mango, porno, and curling. If you can work "Narnia" in there as well, you've got a world-beater.
I know whereof I speak. And I dare not ask why this works. I mean, CURLING???????
Raincoaster, that was truly disgusting. A intercourse in Oswestry is one thing, but mango and curling? I feel very queasy.
I actually passed through Oswestry yesterday evening and didn't have a intercourse of any kind. I didn't go to Shrewsbury but I did pass through Ellesmere (not the Port of, which is at the other end of the canal). I believe you can get a intercourse in Wem and maybe an shag in Chirk.
Thank you Richard for holding aloft the flag of useful information. Other readers would do well to follow suit.
Vicus, your experiment makes it clear that sex alone is not a powerful enough force to generate a succesful posting. I am somewhat surprised by this - I have generally found it to be quite motivating myself. Mind you I do have to confess that I have never had a shag in Oswestry, not for the want of trying I might add.
Tom - please try and keep up. You can't get a shag in Oswestry. Only a intercourse. You can however get an shag in Chirk.
I was recently advised that you can get a full concordat of rumpy-pumpys in Froncysyllte. I am checking my sources.
Hang on. Maybe YOU can only get a shag in Chirk and an intercourse in Oswestry, but perhaps someone else could get both. And a pedicure.
Far be it from me to cast aspersions (because they leave a nasty residue on my hands) but it's entirely possible there are those who could shag in Oswestry and intercourse in Chirk, as well as those who could BOTH shag and intercourse wherever they go.
They would, apparently, be politicians.
OT: blogrolled you, and there's fuckall you can do about it. Enjoy the company!
I'm not sure if you would find a shag in Chirk. Is it near a major waterway? A member of the cormorant family, its prefers to reside in coastal areas.
I bet John Prescott could get a intercourse in Oswestry. Or anywhere, come to that. He's an inspiration to us all.
I really can't understand this pre-occupation with sex. I have 3 children so am done with it. No point in increasing the population more than I already have. Stuff intercourse, that's what I say.
Oswestry, Ellesmere Port, Chirk, Froncysyllte, But where does one find a decent cup of tea?
Old Woodhouses
Disappointing number of Spoonerisms so far.
My English teacher was called Mary Hickey. She taught us about spoonerisms. Try her name.
I'm picking up mixed messages here. One minute Sharon has the hots for me, the next she's not interested in sex, and the next minute she's getting married, but not to me. Sharon, do you live in or near Oswestry?
Vicus, tell me what a fucking spoonerism is mate, and I'll give you one!
Hairy Mickey! Yeah, that's not a bad one. Can't come up with one myself.
Tom. They're words that can be switched around... err.. the first part of the words can be switched. Like the Mary Hickey/Hairy Mickey thing. Cucking Funt is another well known spoonerism, as if Mucking Fuddle.
I'm marrying Richard because you backed off far too quickly. One man says "Oi, she's mine" and off you went, tail between your legs (I think it was your tail, anyway).
Of course, Richard also has the advtantage of already living in the same house as me, which mean less upheavel etc. An important consideration once you've passed the sparkling years of youth.
Fair do's Shazza, I'm well known for backing off too early, and it's true, it's got to be more convenient not to have to move house.
I think you will make a beautiful couple and I wish you well. My wife is pretty relieved too - I'm only about half way through mending the front gate.
LOL. I wouldn't want to be in her path if she came blaming me for the dodgy gate!
Have you got your spoonerisms sorted yet?
Sharon, it was a bit extreme having to get engaged to someone else just to get away from Tom.
And he will get a spoonerism sooner or later, as he is a smart feller.
Buggered if I was moving out for some potential bigamist. Have you seen the crap I've got up in the loft?
I've got nothing to add to this highbrow conversation but I must thank you all for the entertainment. lovely. :-)
Cucking Funt? I don't believe either of those are proper words and it's certainly not well-known in these parts.
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Oops! The Cooking Fat just launched itself across my keyboard
Cooking fat, eh? That's what YOU say...
God, How I've struggled with this spoonerism situation. You twat fat. That's one isn't it? You twucking fat, You wucking fanker, You cossing tunt. Am I on the right lines here Vicus or have I completely missed the pucking foint.
Twat Fat doesn't work ( unless you've got a very dong lick) 'cos one of the words remains the same albeit misplaced but it would appeart that dight is lawning in Dartmoor.
This was originally shown on BBC TV back in the seventies. Ronnie Barker could say all this without a snigger. Hope it doesn't offend but provides more info on the important subject in this thread...
This is the story of Rindercella and her sugly isters. She worked very hard frubbing sloors, emptying poss pits, and shivelling shot. At the end of the day, she was knucking fackered.
The sugly isters were right bugly astards. One was called Mary Hinge and the other was called Betty Swallocks; they were really forrible huckers; they had fetty sweet and fetty swannies. The sugly isters had tickets to go to the ball, but the cotton runts would not let Rindercella go.
Suddenly there was a bucking fang, and her gairy fodmother appeared. Her name was Shairy Hithole and she was a light rucking fesbian. She turned a pumpkin and six mite wice into a hucking cuge farriage with six dandy ronkeys who had buge hollocks and dig bicks
The gairy fodmother told Rindercella to be back by dimlight otherwise, there would be a cucking falamity.
At the ball, Rindercella was dancing with the prandsome hince when suddenly the clock struck twelve. "Mist all chucking frighty!!!" said Rindercella, and she ran out tripping barse over ollocks, so slopping her glass dripper.
The very next day the prandsome hince knocked on Rindercella's door and the sugly isters let him in. Suddenly, Betty Swallocks lifted her leg and let off a fig bart. "Who's fust jarted??" asked the prandsome hince.
"Blame that fugly ucker over there!!" said Mary Hinge. When the stinking brown cloud had lifted, he tried the slass glipper on both the sugly isters without success and their feet stucking funk! Betty Swallocks was ducking fisgusted and gave the prandsome hince a knack in the kickers. This was not difficult as he had bucking fuge halls and a hig bard on.
He tried the slass glipper on Rindercella and it fitted pucking ferfectly. Rindercella and the prandsome hince were married. The pransome hince lived his life in lucking fuxury, and Rindercella lived hers with a follen swanny.
Oh Vicus, what to do? Your post about sex is descending into the mire. Is there a message here - suggest you quickly start another post about gardening or cross-stitch to deflect the evil that is being drawn towards this darkness.
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