All threads that bitch about new, existing, or old members will be posted/relocated here. Keep this shit off the General forum, because no one wants (or cares) to hear your opinions. Now go back to the other forums and post something worthy of reading.

this is exactly how this excursion came to be.
I had such a lousy time in nz back in august.
'straya told me my visa had expired and I'd have difficulties getting back in the white rule country.
fucking kiwi atm ripped me off to the choon of $200.
didn't figure out how to get the flies down until day 5 (of 7).
fished 12hrs every fucking day.
spent a lot of my free time doing dishes.
not many laughs. and I'm not one for serious business outside serious business.

I took two fucking spey rods over there, both weighing a metric fuck ton, and didn't use them once.
so when I got home I was sitting in the parlour next to the library in the east wing and staring at my spey choob.
I decided right there and then that it wasn't getting the use it deserved. much like all my technical simms gear.

I walked the half mile to my office, past the drawing room and billiards room and gift wrapping room, and I (see: jeeves) started this thread.

so that's it really.
I booked this flight because I felt guilty about my spey rods.

of which... I'm fairly certain... doesn't make me gay.

I would like to see as many of you that can make it, mind. <tres gay. ('treggy' in austria)
I've seen you cast. The rods are better off in the "choob "
austrotard wrote:
so that's it really.
I booked this flight because I felt guilty about my spey rods.
If that's really what this trip is about then you should know that you'd have saved a shit-ton of money by just shipping the rods to yard instead.

So tell us more about New Zealand. I've never been, and you make it sound so glamorous.

I seem to recall that you once spoke of retiring there. Is that now off the table?
I'm going to retire to a home (for the criminally inept).

we've a long drive in front of us.
enough time to tell you all sorts of horseshit.

taster: there was this one time the cc and I opened a small pub in antrim... just before we were double-crossed by the uvf... and left with all those moody £50 notes...
I may or may not have signed myself (and rampant) up for a full day's double handed casting clinic this coming saturday with one gunter feuerstein.

small print: I might get piss me kegs jrunk on friday. you know, pre-smithers style.
Roughfish swap (Heero backed out)

antifa bump Fixed

Luau 2020

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and a sheep shot. strong work :smile

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