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Whatever happened to.........


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Quenchy cups?

 

I cant remember the last time I saw Quenchy cups.

 

At primary school, they gave us little straws with them, but the cool kids (like me) would invert the cup and bite a small hole in the bottom edge, thus being able to enjoy the juice in a novel and eye-catching fashion lol

 

What else do you wonder "what happened" about?

 

(no-one say white dog-shit, thats been done to death!)

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Who remembers AFC chat forums that were populated by AFC fans.

 

And when there were no weegie arseholes pursuing their political ideology exclusively.

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Incorrect. There is one in Cullen Antique centre just been sold for 140 quid. There is also another one outside my mum's house which unsurprisingly is called Anvil Cottage.

Do any of your mates ever call it Anal Cottage, for a laugh? Implying they have anal intercourse with your mum like.

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Who remembers AFC chat forums that were populated by AFC fans.

 

And when there were no weegie arseholes pursuing their political ideology exclusively.

 

 

I'm a Dandy min.

 

How did your guy get on at the masters with Rockets super basic as fuck golf stating? That's rite he was about last.

 

 

:hysterical:

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Hitting an anvil with a large hammer wouldn't work

 

Smelting seems like the obvious answer

 

 

 

 

Never seen a Gambit in years.

 

 

Or old-fashioned jakeys- seems to be mainly young junkie sorts these days

 

The leather-faced auld lad in a slightly shabby grey sports jacket, with a pair of crumpled dress pants and a comfy, if foxed, pair of loafers,

 

Usually standing about 5' 4" or so, he could be seen stotting along the street on a Saturday afternoon, either headed to or from the bookies on his way to or from the pub.

 

Almost guaranteed to have a fag hanging from his bottom lip, a perpetual glazed stare of puzzlement on his face, and would for sure answer to the name Wullie or Wull.

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The leather-faced auld lad in a slightly shabby grey sports jacket, with a pair of crumpled dress pants and a comfy, if foxed, pair of loafers,

 

Usually standing about 5' 4" or so, he could be seen stotting along the street on a Saturday afternoon, either headed to or from the bookies on his way to or from the pub.

 

Almost guaranteed to have a fag hanging from his bottom lip, a perpetual glazed stare of puzzlement on his face, and would for sure answer to the name Wullie or Wull.

 

That's the boy.

 

Seen him recently?

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