'kin right on brother!

I take exception to the use of the word twit . . . twat would've been more appropriate . . .

You are right, of course, I apologise for a needless self-censorship in the previous post, it was completely uncalled for and if I have offended anyone I am truly sorry.

Hope you are not referring to me. For one thing I have never owned a cardigan. Where is the pyscho-analysis. The French just get on with their own thing - always have done just like I do...and their women are mostly attractive..

I think plenty of people are ****** and wonder what went wrong with them. Provides a useful escape valve. There is a *****wit woman on the train with her shoes off - treating the place like her living room. Needs shooting.

slight edit required

I believe you would know more about this than many of us! More detail not forthcoming as I do not wish to offend with sordid details....but can supply on request..

I wasn't having a go at you and yes, the women do seem, from afar, to be more than averagely attractive but then I cannot warm to a bunch of feckless lazy cheese-eating no-spine garlic munchers.

Well I could barely conceal the fact my blood was boilling. I looked around the carriage - (late in this morning) and hunted for a person that I could pick on just so that I could mount an internet defence.

I do (personally) find the French fascinating but I think their soldiers* - and cars universally shite.

*Apart from Bernie's mob.

Their language is pretty too.

Ah, the cars .... I have happy memories of going down to Le Mans in a Citroen AX GT ... I quite liked that car (not mine). Someone deliberately side-swiped it in Gillingham, it was that kind of place.

Then I had a Peugeot 309 GTi which I modified until it would not work any more ... the flames out the exhaust were fun (for a short time). Spent many thousands, got none back, crazy days.

I then had a Renault 21 Turbo, which saved my life due to the fact it was unexpectedly built like a (non-French) tank as I rolled it into a power pole at high speed and enjoyed a brief and exciting trip onto the roof and thence crawled out of the tailgate bruised by otherwise unharmed.

You would think that would mark the end of The Boy Racer Years but no, I bought another 21 Turbo ... which was a bag'o'shite.

Then I bought an MX-5, which I loved but turned me into a hairdresser called Julian for a brief period of time.

What French car would I buy today? Oh ... I'd tool around in a mint black DS

I'd forgotten this thread ... maybe I had the 21s in the wrong order ... http://britishexpats.com/forum/showt...bo#post5283671

...but the women are exceptionally hairy

I'd have one of these babies . . .

Swoopy, classy

Bastards who post massive photos while I'm on dial-up speeds . . .

Self loathing nutters masquerading as Greek slaves leaders.