Dave Mac wrote:
Nah thin. Thou hast no idea wot it's laike to werk all neet down't piT, walk ten miles home, riddle cinders out of t'grate, and light t'fire to warm yer socks on.
Then put socks back on agen, eat t'rest of yer snap, switch on t'computer, an its nout but bluddy skiin, that bludddy J2ski, or wha tever it calls itsel.
Then you'd av ter get t' 215 skis out of t'lavvy, wax em wi a bit o' spit, and carry em on thy shoulder, in t' lace up skee booots, up t'top of bing, aye nobbut 3000 ft, if I'm a day. Thin skee theesel down so fast, you'd meet yersel cummin oop agin.
An yoo try tellin that t't yung folk, teday.
They'll niver beleve thee!
They'll never understand "thee", and neither did Babelfish :lol: