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About hembo

  • Birthday 06/03/1962

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  • Gender
  • Location
    yeovil somerset
  • Interests
    shore fishing, rugby ,Football ,walking, current affairs

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  1. hembo


    hi rudd ,i use a similar energizer headlight and also use reflective tape and the visibility is much better when using the red light.it has now become an essential piece of kit.giving my rods a major overhaul this autumn as unable to fish for the forseeable future so will be experimentin on different ways to maximise tip visibility.red light is the way to go.
  2. http://www.spinwatch.org.uk/blogs-mainmenu...second-jobs.the whole system is a mess .in between claiming their expenses and holding a second job,when can they be an mp?
  3. i dont know whether anyone has said it previously but an awful lot of mps sit on boards,directorships etc.they should only be an mp how can they concentrate on representing their constituents ? one thing is certain is the silence of the political leaders,they have lost the moral highground how long before single mothers are replaced by greedy mps in the daily mail?
  4. http://news.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/hi/newsbeat...000/7961224.stm
  5. A scottish painter.... joke, painter, scottish There was a Scottish painter named Jock who was very interested in making a penny where he could, so he often thinned down his paint to make it go a wee bit further. As it happened, he got away with this for some time, and eventually the Baptist Church decided to do a big restoration job on the outside of one of their biggest buildings. Jock put in a bid and because his price was the lowest, he got the job. So he set about erecting the scaffolding and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine. Well, Jock was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed, when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, the sky opened, and the rain poured down washing the thinned paint from all over the church and knocking Jock clear off the scaffold to land on the grass among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint. Jock was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got down on his knees and cried: "Oh God, forgive me; what should I do?" And above the sound of thunder, a mighty voice spoke. "Repaint, Repaint, and thin no more!"
  6. cheers ken .i am going to tempt fate but i have too wait for my current tv to die first.you are absolutely right that there are incredible bargains around and hopefully that will be the case when i have to take the plunge.
  7. listened on radio he was second best. pacman v mayweather jnr possibility now.much as i like boxing i disapprove of these superfights mainly as it seems to discriminate against the true and upcoming boxers of weight divisions.
  8. "This Time Next Year We'll Be Millionaires RODNEY"
  9. hembo

    Man Flu

    i sent this to my brother in tasmania when he was illl with "MAN FLU" and he hasnt talked to me since.i think its brilliant.
  10. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Once upon a time (well, more than once, actually, ...a number of times) the Carrier Pigeon Employees Union held an Iron Bird competition to honor the toughest, most dedicated specimen of avian delivery in the State of California. Only two birds made it into the final round, where each carrier pigeon had to carry a 50-pound mail pouch. First, they had to fly up over the top of Mt. Whitney, 14,500 feet high, then swoop down and fly the length of the notorious and aptly-name Death Valley in the hottest part of the summer. Each bird struggled up through Mt. Whitney's thinning air, gasping for breath as each of them successfully soared over the top of its rocky summit. From there, they proceeded down to the northern edge of Death Valley. The sun was blazing hot, scorching the moisture out of the sparse scrubby vegitation, the bleached bones of other less fortunate animals littering the barren desert floor. Onward they flew. Exhausted, feathers wilted, gasping with each dehydrated breath, these two tough competitors neared the finish line at the valley's southern-most end. The crowds of fellow carrier pigeons filling the perches along either side of the finish line loudly cheered on their favorite feathered friend. In the final quarter mile, one pigeon sprinted ahead with a final burst of energy, crossing the line to the deafening chirps of its adoring fans. In the emotinal rush of victory, it strutted around, singing out a melodious song of rejoicing. The other bird, seeing it had lost, slowed down and practially limped across the finish line, tattered and beaten down by this grueling competition. It could only chirp out a single, mournful, pitiful sound through its parched beak as it collapsed in a heap, amidst the wailing of its own supporters. All this prompted a well-known, loquatious New Yorker pigeon sportcaster who was covering the event to loudly announce into the microphone for all to hear, "Ahh....de trill of victory, and de agony of de tweet!"
  11. very good . i wil delve into the depths and see if i can reply.
  12. i can see a koala.bottom left.
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