It's the result of a year-long collaboration between a raging, bulging, crushing desire to write an offensive poeme called "The Negro", and my conscience.

By "He soils" do you mean "he soils himself", or "he tends to the soil"?

Was that before or after he pryed off the door to the tuck shop and stole £50 worth of confectionary? Incidentally my ridiculous grammer is a result of having attened aforementioned school which hithertofore has not benn named. And yes he is still a bin man.

I read your comment about "the idea of pulling one's cock out" before reading the poem upon which you were commenting. For at least thirty seconds, I sat with a bewildered look on my risibly large face, having mistakenly assumed that the phrase "pulling one's cock out" was intended to mean "detaching one's cock from one's body" (in the same way that pulling one's tooth out would signify the extraction of one's tooth from one's mouth). Have you ever been fascinated with the idea of detaching one's cock from one's body? Have you ever spent most of your day assessing the probable consequences of detaching one's cock from one's body in whatever circumstances you happen to be in? I know I have.

I never pull mine out not even when I need to piss.

The abovementioned are also the gayest of the philosophers, who, as a class, are exceedingly gay. Except Wittgenstein, as I believe I've mentioned elsewhere.

The only times I have ever been taken with the idea very strongly are every time I've ridden on the London Underground. No other underground does it, just the London one. However, if I happen to be standing next to a shallow duck-pond somewhere, I'll almost always be tempted to step in it. The image of myself standing knee-deep in scummy water, perhaps surrounded by ducks, perhaps not, and not really doing anything, just standing - well, it's incredibly hard for me to resist. I suppose that's kind of the same thing.

How curious that you should feel that way. It reminds me of a boy called Leon Shaw with whom I attended school with. He made a habit of taking off his trousers during music instruction and then putting them back on inside out. He used to do this as many times as possible within the hour of recorder tutition and was never once caught. That led him to more extravagant gestures to try and impress the rest of class. Upon one occasion he pretended to have cramp and stood up quickly with his cock hanging out jumping around and uttering "ouch, I have cramp." The teacher who was a firmly repressed gay went a fine shade of puce and pretended not to notice Shaw's prodigous member slapping against his stomach. That teacher is no longer a member of the teaching staff at my former school. Leon has gone on to be a fine ambassador for the school and when not choking down another "bucket" is to be seen behind a bin lorry in the streets of Coalville. a town named after a large slag heap.

There are a number of philosophers who have never made any decent arguments and are famous only because their theories were so ridiculous and obviously wrong that everyone after them had a jolly good time explaining why. Here are the top three: 1. John R. Searle 2. Michel Foucault 3. Bishop Berkeley

He also says somewhere else that people didn't exist until the concept was invented after the end of serfdom. He seems unable to perceive the difference between the concept of people existing, and people (the things we currently denote with the term "people") existing. He is a prime bollock.

you can quit again. either that, or spend the time brushing up on spelling and grammar. <meow>

well dun, sir! i'd have to be a naiv uen to miss the beauty of that remark!