If the younger generation have Mummy Porn.....

Wimbledon, It's just a racket, taking guts to make a packet.
A slicer here, a slammer there,
Stawberry 'n cream,if cash to spare!
Quueing round the ground from morn to night,
"My dear, your hair's an awful sight"!
Look - black clouds, maybe rain.
That would be an awful shame!

I'm lost, still trying to work out what soops's rogue Buttom IS

Think I also need to go to specsavers as I read rogue bosom and wondered how on earth Mr Grey had managed to swallow a whole one.....

Big mouth!!

gramps hie thee to a monastery!

Ooh sorry it was Mr Beige who swallowed the buttom, or bosom, Mr Grey has no place in this story!

Although Mr Beige may be looking rather grey by now.....

Yes, there do seem to be 5 people, and that is without Mr. and Mrs. Ecru.

When Bob and Ana -still naked - , got to the shed ,the first paramedic- said : Oh it is you, Uncle Bob?
Second paramedic said : What, Bob's your Uncle??..

They all decided to have a refreshing beer, and chose Heineken.
After all , Heineken reaches the Parts other beers cannot reach!

Not been around lately as I've been busy with my DGD and other things but you lot are so funny! I'm chuckling away, here's to 'Granny porn' great thread Notso.

And boy do those ageing and overused parts need refreshing !

She felt the need to explain, just in case the worst happened, "I must tell you", she wheezed, "But I've got acute angina". "Thank heaven for that, " he gasped, "Because you've got bloody awful tits"

I`ll have to feature this in the "What are you reading now" thread, best thing I`ve read in ages!

Am I experiencing deja vu? I could have sworn someone else posted that 'awful tits' line...

That's what I thought

Oh, dear * phoenix*

Meanwhile, back at Creaky Towers, Ana arose from her slumbers, climbed (with difficulty) out of the four-poster and put her foot in the chamber pot. 'Damn that Bob and his leaky bladder' she hissed...

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she shook her urine-soaked foot dry, grabbed her bejewelled walking stick and began the long, slow hobble to the bathroom, which was in the West Wing (hence the need for a chamber pot).
'My God' she exclaimed 'Why am I walking like John Wayne?'

Have Bob and Mr Beige collapsed due to excess activity over the last couple of days? Maybe they are looking for alternative pleasures on their iPads, or searching hedonistic web sites?!

'If so, they'll probably end up being directed to Gransnet', muttered Ana as she negotiated the dusty corridors, unaware that Bob's long johns were wrapped around her walking stick and hampering her movements.
From behind one of the doors leading off the corridor she was currently traversing, came an unearthly cry! What could it be, she wondered, torn between her urgent need for the bathroom and her innate nosiness.

Could it possibly be... Martin Sheen? aka POTUS? Doing that hot little trick he does when he puts on his jacket with one smooth movement when there is an emergency in the West Wing? Ana had always liked a man with brains, and Nobel Prizewinners (even fictional ones) range ALL her bells.
And that tall brilliant woman who does that right hand thing so well - is she anywhere about?

So Notsogrand, are you happy with the thread of your storyline, and maybe it needs a finale ?

Oh lord, how did I miss this until now...please go on!

No, it can`t end yet, too much left unsaid (or should I say undone?)!

Inate nosiness is one thing but when you've gotta go... you gotta go! Ana left the bathroom door slightly open so she could keep half an ear on the blood curdling screams across the landing. She guessed it was probably Mr Beige setting up one of his Danger Dungeon games, which quite frankly were becoming a bit boring. The batteries in the rotating spiked collar always made her hearing aid whistle, and the rusty chastity belt needed so much WD40, it always made her eczema flare up. With a resigned sigh, Ana opened the landing door to find not Mr Beige....but Mr and Mrs Ecru! They were dressing up in Ana's costumes and making a right old racket with their imaginary game of fairies and witches. Ana was apalled and yelled at Mrs Ecru....Take my liberty bodice off NOW!!

Just got into the shower and door bell rang I dashed down suitably covered as am waiting for a parcel and guess who was at the door? My window cleaner - unfortunately I didn't have the same affect on him - he backed away muttering that he would come back tomorrow! Now I MUST go and get ready