Tommy L
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campaign code M02/2010-000603
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oceansoul
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quote:
Originally posted by Cosmo
Walton
Cosmo why walton? I live near there 
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kz
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Registered: 9th Aug 02
Location: Southend, Essex Drives: Mini Cooper S
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Leighton
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Location: Liverpool
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quote:
Originally posted by oceansoul
quote:
Originally posted by Cosmo
Walton
Cosmo why walton? I live near there
You live near Walton Village in Liverpool?
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oceansoul
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Registered: 19th Jun 06
Location: Sunbury, Surrey
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quote:
Originally posted by Leighton
quote:
Originally posted by oceansoul
quote:
Originally posted by Cosmo
Walton
Cosmo why walton? I live near there
You live near Walton Village in Liverpool?
Oh.. nope. Walton Upon Thames in Surrey lol
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Daveskater
Premium Member
Registered: 29th Apr 08
Location: Oxford, UK Drives: Jap wagon
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"Panting, Harry fell forwards over the hydrangea bush, straightened up and stared around. There were several faces peering through various nearby windows. Harry stuffed his willy hastily back into his jeans and tried to look innocent."
A magic willy... this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.
"Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first willy. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice willy for charm work."
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany willy. Eleven inches. "
"... Today's will be a practical lesson. You will only need your willies."
Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his willy from his trousers. "It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight!" "Oh, I'm so sorry," hissed Hermione, and Harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his willy instead.
"Don't put your willy there, boy!" roared Moody."
Harry rubbed his willy feverishly until white sparks shot out of the end, which earned him a disapproving look from Fleur.
"Both Sirius and Snape lowered their willies... the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses... "But what's going on?" asked Mr. Weasley. "Nothing, Arthur," said Sirius, who was breathing heavily as though he had just run ...a long distance."
"There was a moment, in the graveyard, where Voldemort's willy and mine sort of... connected."
"Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?" said Snape smoothly. "Willy out, Potter."
Draco's sleek, black willy. Identical to his father's willy as far as Harry could remember...
'Willy' grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. Harry produced his willy.
Dumbledore drew his willy out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the willy away, hair seemed to be clinging to it - but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve.
Hermione's willy gave a little jerk, but did not leave her hand. The feeble attempt at magic was too much for Harry's willy, which split into two again.
Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him, shoulder to shoulder, willies pointing right at Harry. Through the small space between their jeering faces he saw Draco Malfoy. "That's my willy you're holding, Potter," said Malfoy, pointing his own through the gap between Crabbe and Goyle. "Not anymore," panted Harry, tightening ...his grip on the hawthorn willy. "Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?" "My mother," said Draco.
Draco whipped out his willy, but Harry was prepared and his willy was in his hand before Draco could react....
"He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking toward the door with their willies pointing into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them..."
"Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, willies raised..."
"Are you OK?" said Harry urgently. "My willy," said Ron. "Look at my willy." It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on only by a few splinters
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's willy, tapped the lock, and whispered, 'Alohomora!"
Harry's willy was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldnt have released if he'd wanted to.
"Come on Harry, whack your willy out." said Hermione.
The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's willy had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.
"As you can see, we are holding our willies in the accepted combative position."
"Lupin drew his willy so fast that Harry had barely the chance to reach for his own"
"There was no need to stick the willy in that hard," he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."
"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams Potter," said Malfoy. "Now give me the prophecy, or we start using willies." "Go, on then," said Harry, raising his own willy to chest height. As he did so, the five willies of Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna rose to either side of him.
He bent down and pulled his willy out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.
But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his willy, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.
He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his willy, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his willy at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them.
"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's willy?"
"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your willy, Lucious!"
"Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this." said Hermione, raising her willy.
"I had... never heard of such a thing. Your willy performed something unique that night."
"Yes," Harry said, gripping his willy very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding.... Any second now, he might hear his mother again... but he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to... or did he?
Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his willy.
"Then he whirled his willy at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them."
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled. Nothing happened. Harry gripped his willy tighter and shook it up and down until a thick, whispy white substance prtruded from the end of it.
Then, with a sigh, he raised his willy and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.
He looked up. Riddle was still watching him-twirling Harry's willy between his long fingers. "Thanks." said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of riddles mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the willy idly.
"Yes, very handsome. And is it working well? I always think willies require a little breaking in, don't you?"
'Get - off - me!' Harry gasped. For a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncles sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised willy.
Slowly, he drew the Elder Willy between his long fingers.
Harry hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding his willy out in front of him.
Bellatrix's mouth fell open. Snape lowered himself so that he was kneeling opposite Narcissa. Beneath Bellatrix's astonished gaze, they grapsed right hands."You will need your willy bellatrix," said Snape, coldy. She drew it, looking astonished. "And you will need to move a little closer." he said. She stepped forwards so that she stood over them, and placed the tip of her willy on their linked hands.
"Anyway, its a nightmare of a year, the fifth," said George. "If you care about exam results, anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our willy up somehow."
"There will be no foolish willy-waving or silly incantations in this class!"
"What's got your willy in a knot?"
"Just because you can use magic now does not mean you have to whip your willies out for everything!"
"No," said Voldemort. "I have peformed my usual magic. I am extraordinary. But this willy... no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this willy and the willy I procured from ollivander all those years ago."
"...did things with a willy I've never seen before..."
Harry was half-tempted to place his hands on stout bathilda's backside to ensure that she didn't topple over backwards on top of him, which seemed only too likely. Slowly, wheezing a little, she climbed to the upper landing, turned immediately right and led him into a low-ceilinged bedroom...."Lumos," Harry said, and his willy ignited. He gave a start: Bathilda had moved close to him in those seconds of darkness.
"But if my willy was so powerful, how come Hermione was able to break it?"
Harry was too excited to care: the memory had come back to him at the sight of Krum's willy: Ollivander taking it and examining it carefuly before the Triwizard Tournament.
" I remember every willy I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tailfeather resides in your willy gave another feather... just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this willy when its brother gave you that scar."
Harry took the willy. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the willy above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.
So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a willy more powerful than any in existence: a willy that must always win duels for its owner, a willy worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a willy from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother...
Moody raised his willy, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.
"Harry looked down at his own Willy. He could see finger marks all over it..."
"Stand back." said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves. "No-don't-" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his willy and a second later had directed it Harry's at arm.
"Manners, Potter," said Snape dangerously. "Now, I want you to close your eyes." Harry threw him a filthy look before doing as he was told. He did not like the idea of standing there with his eyes shut while Snape faced him, carrying a willy.
Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his willy pointing directly at Lupin.
He looked down at his willy, which he was still clutching in his hand.
"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry. "Oh, well -- I was at Hogwarts meself but I -- er -- got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me willy in half an' everything."
"Don't put away your willy, Harry. They might come back."
"No!" roared Snape's voice and the pain stopped as suddenly as it started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his willy and panting.
He and harry looked at each other before raising their willys simultaneously.
But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's willy and the snake struck.
"Willy weighing?" Harry repeated nervously. "We have to check that your willies are fully fuctional, no problems you know, as they're your most important tools in the task ahead." said Bagman.
Cedric Diggory emerged in his entirety from the end of voldemorts willy, as though it was squeezing its self out of a very narrow tunnel.
Harry had a choice of paths up ahead. "Point me!" he wispered again to his willy, and it spun around and pointed him to the right-hand one.
Mrs Weasley flicked her willy at the washing up.
"You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this willy from him."
"And what exactly did I say?" asked Hermione, her tone somewhere between scepticism and curiosity.
"My name, 'Ron'. And you said ...something about a willy..."
Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a willy.
Voldemort had raised his willy. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand.
Harry's willy was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldnt have released if hed wanted to.
Harry saw that voldemorts long white fingers, too, were gripping a willy that was shaking and vibrating.
The closer the bead moved, the harder Harry's willy vibrated; he was sure his willy would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers.
Harry, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw willies emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves.
Both Sirius and Snape lowered their willies... the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses...
A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a willy and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As they drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent. "How many times, Kevin? You don't — touch — Daddy's — willy— yecchh!"
"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madame Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack carrying a tape measure and a willy. "And I don't want willies drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there with their willies pointing at Malfoy.
Olivander ran his fingers along the willy, apparently checking for scrathces or bumps, then he muttered "Orchideous" and a bunch or flowers burst from the willy's tip.
Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his willy and roared, "Expecto patronum!".
Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful willy he had snatched from Death himself...
Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his willy still trembling. Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction.
However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their willys and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water...
Numberwang!
Originally posted by AlunJ
I like you Dave, you are a man of men
Originally Whatapp'd by Neo
Dave's maybe capable of a drive-by cuddle
Look at my pictures
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_Allan_
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Thought that was Paul J's Ctrl & V for a minute 
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Rob E
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Registered: 1st Jan 06
Location: Madeley, Stafford....I want to live back in Wales!
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Froude Hofmann
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mooney
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Registered: 20th Oct 05
Location: north west uk
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So it turns out that WKD was named after the people who drink it.
Women, Kids and Dickheads.
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Sunz
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Registered: 12th Jan 07
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[Pimmel нunterZ][νίиςί] : finaly
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fazza
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Cosmo
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Location: Im the real one!
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quote:
Originally posted by oceansoul
quote:
Originally posted by Leighton
quote:
Originally posted by oceansoul
quote:
Originally posted by Cosmo
Walton
Cosmo why walton? I live near there
You live near Walton Village in Liverpool?
Oh.. nope. Walton Upon Thames in Surrey lol
Walton, Liverpool is what it is, not in Surrey! (also not to be confused with Woolton which is where our shop is).
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Ben G
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Registered: 12th Jan 07
Location: Essex
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http://7.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kuasyxYVCE1qavbcno1_500.jpg
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lostboy
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http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6c/McLaren_F1_LM.jpg
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Ojc
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Location: Reading: Drives : Clio 197
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During the Ardennes' Offensive (Battle of the Bulge), I was stationed in Prüm, which was right in front of the V-1 launch sites [16]. V-1s were also known as the Eifelschreck (terror of the Eifel mountains) because when they were first used, they not always flew directly to their targets. Instead, they would quite often turn around in flight and explode around the Eifel. The V-1s aimed for the Ardennes Front usually flew over the house we stayed in (in Prüm) and, since they were barely ten meters above the house, it was considerably disconcerting. I'll never forget the terrible roar - it sounded (we always said) like Russian tanks going over. Our Kampfgruppe (Kampfgruppe Remer - named for its commander was honored by a speech from Major General Remer just before the Offensive began. "Soldiers," he said, "this is the most important battle the German soldier has fought during the whole war. If this battle is lost, the war will be lost!" Later after the battle was lost, of course, you did not dare quote the General.
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SetH
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http://www.uddervalleyranch.com/
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Tiesto
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COLUMNS 4 METRE DW WINDSOR CARDIFF COLUMN PROFILE WITH LADDER BAR, NECK AND FOOTER FIXINGS. MINIMUM DOOR SIZE 600mm x 115mm. PLANTING DEPTH 1000mm, BASE DIAMETER 168mm, SHAFT DIAMETER 89mm. BASE TO HAVE CONCRETE MIX ST5 SURROUND (475x475x750DP).
LANTERN ANTI VANDAL BOWL AND NEMA SOCKET WITH INTEGRAL LOW LOSS CONTROL GEAR. FACTORY FINISHED IN RAL 9017 (BLACK) WITH COLUMN AND FITTINGS PAINTED TO MATCH.
LAMP DW WINDSOR STREET 70 WATT SON-T+ POLYCARBONATE ON PIECE BOWL, POST TOP MOUNTED WITH INTEGRAL 0 DEGREE TILT, 1 PART PHOTO ELECTRIC CELL. (PROJECT MAINTENANCE FACTOR 0.85)
PHOTO-ELECTRIC CONTROL UNIT ONE PART NEMA ON TOP OF LUMINAIRE. SWITCHING LEVEL 70 LUX, 1 .5 NEGATIVE DIFFERENTIAL.
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daymoon
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DN20
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dannymccann
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http://www.hotukdeals.com/item/549583/ugg-cardy-knitted-boots-asos-for-75
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Jamie-C
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My mums email address, but I'm not posting for obvious reasons 
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Pip308
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKahubEOI8w
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Tiger
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Mine was: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAQY6aVrSsY
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Sunz
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textwindow_temp.html
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Adam_B
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For his White Cube2 exhibition American artist Gregory Crewdson exhibited a new group of twenty photographs from his Twilight series. Begun in 1998 and completed in 2002, Twilight consists of forty photographs created as elaborately staged, large-scale tableaux that explore the relationship between the domestic and the fantastical, between the North American landscape and the topology of the imagination.
Although Crewdson has described himself as an 'an American realist landscape photographer’, he makes filmic images that strongly reference TV programmes such as The Twilight Zone or films such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind that deal with fantasy and the paranormal. In this series of intensely, almost luridly coloured and exuberantly detailed images, Crewdson employs a cinematic, directorial mode of photography, the culmination of weeks of planning and complicated, behind-the-scenes production.
In Crewdson's photographs a collision between the normal and the paranormal exists which serves to transform the familiar suburban landscape into a place of wonder and anxiety. This series of images has become increasingly dark, penetrating the psychological disquiet at the heart of the American family. In one image, we see a teenage girl standing in the street in just her underwear with shoulders hunched and head hanging low, confronted and shamed by her mother's accusatory and disappointed gaze. In another, a pregnant girl dressed in a nightdress stands in a garden that is bathed in the golden light emitted by a swarm of fireflies. Staring at something beyond the picture frame, she crushes a firefly into her rounded stomach.
Several of the images possess narratives that are mythic in proportion and seemingly driven by a sense of quasi-religious task and ritual. In Crewdson's suburban re-working of the well-known Ophelia myth, a young woman floats calmly on the mirror-like surface of her flooded living room, her frozen impassivity reflective of all the characters in this series. In other images, subjects are engrossed in odd, domestic chores such as carving holes in the living room floor or uprooting a huge tree from the rafters of an otherwise standard bedroom. Flora and fauna are amassed in abundance - an enormous mound of flowers is built in the middle of a residential street, a mass of brightly coloured butterflies escape from a garden shed and a strange, upright pole entwined with climbing flowers and plants emerges from beyond a living room window.
Often these photographs present a single isolated figure and the feeling that these strange encounters evoke is of stealing a glimpse of something shameful that should be hidden - something private, enigmatic or transgressive. Threat and danger intermingle with a bucolic sense of suburban bliss. One image depicts an upturned bus, lorded over by a group of teenagers; another is a chilling image of a young girl in pyjamas who stands mesmerized outside her home, beckoned by a man from the empty school bus, the paternal goodwill of the small town becoming something far darker and sinister. Threat is everywhere and danger is a short walk down the garden path. These eerie and evocative photographs recall the films of independent American filmmakers such as David Lynch or Todd Solondz who explore surreal suburban dysfunction and the terror that lurks beneath everyday life.
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smcGSI16V
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Do you fancy going out for dinner on friday? my treat.
From my phone.
[Edited on 08-12-2009 by smcGSI16V]
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