Bill Prawn

Ray, To clear it up where is first rendezvous? Paddock car park for track day viewing and coffe/bacon rolls or main car park for museum. Or even Sunday market for snide Burberry

Ed, Me negative!!!!! My cup's always half full even if it's empty That would be ok weather if the meet was in London. But it's not try here Bit of rear end sliding maybe!!!!!

Just seen weather forecast on BBC. SNOW on Sunday!!!!!!!

So public car park then? Nowhere near the cafe

Where at the raceway? Or shall I just keep my eye out for some Supra's

As the title says

HeHeHe

Ray, I'm confused (not hard) is the meet at Donington Park or at this pub in the village?

Ray, There are two entrances. Public and paddock. The paddock car park will be open as there is a trackday on. There is also a cafe there (Pit-Stop diner) and pub (Redgate) plus access to trackside for viewing. The public car park is up by the museum but access to the track for viewing is a long way away. Public car park is mostly gravel and grass. Some areas are tarmac but there is a 4x4 event on in the exhibition centre so they may be full. The paddock area is tarmac. Sorry to make things confusing. Tell me to p**s off and mind my own business if you want

Moses, Jesus and an old man are golfing. Moses steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Moses parts the water and chips the ball onto the green. Jesus steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Jesus just walks on the water and chips the ball onto the green. The old man steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and heads for the water trap. But, just before it falls into the water, a fish jumps up and grabs the ball in its mouth. As the fish is falling back down into the water, an eagle swoops down and grabs the fish in its claws. The eagle flies over the green where a lightning bolt shoots from the sky and barely misses it. Startled, the eagle drops the fish. When the fish hits the ground, the ball pops out of its mouth and rolls into the hole for a hole-in-one. Jesus then turns to the old man and says, "Dad, if you don't stop fooling around, we won't bring you next time."

Here Surely some mistake!!!

scum

dope

corks

Tropical

tennis

weight

Don't know what you're talking about

fast

boring

net

enhancement

It's a bit long but soooooo worth it Dear Connie, I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt And this is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie." I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an @ss that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy." Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during is painful time. She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It's true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you let me know where the f*cking remote is. Love, Dan.

sick