Caption Round: Gattuso Special !

[bocadillo]

I can accept Notts laughing because I have met the BG look-a-like. To the best of my knowledge I haven't met you yet BM. Boc could be talking out of his arse again :icon_wink

Not this time.

 

[spionfox]

Not this time.

You're only getting your own back for that SpongeBocSquarePants picture I did years ago :icon_bigg

 

[bocadillo]

You're only getting your own back for that SpongeBocSquarePants picture I did years ago :icon_bigg

You might be right

 

[lanxfox jnr]

Laughing at the translated interview on SSN 'He talked Scottish, I talked Scottish, He's Scottish and I played in Sctoland, so that's it' :icon_lol:

 

[lcfc forever]

I told you stop impersonating sven, you dont look a bit like him

 

[GazLCFC]

I can accept Notts laughing because I have met the BG look-a-like. To the best of my knowledge I haven't met you yet BM. Boc could be talking out of his arse again :icon_wink

I think we are friends on FB and this made me LOLZ

 

[Profondo Rosso]

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

 

[Billyjof]

The Jewish and Arabic leaders focus their anger on Jordan.

 

[Blue Maniac]

I think we are friends on FB and this made me LOLZ

Likewise. Looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool, rolf etc.

 

[fosseboy83]

The Jewish and Arabic leaders focus their anger on Jordan.

:icon_lol:

 

[Darth Vodka]

Jordan's new face lift is done on the cheap

 

[Darth Vodka]

Jordan has a smaller tit attached

 

[Hector]

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

If it's a Hamlet theme, how about this:

"Alas per Yorrick, I knew him Harry" (with apologies to Horatio)

 

[RHYDAL]

Gattuso: Satan, leave this earthly body.
Harry: Praise Jebus.

 

[SwedeFox]

Gattuso: Satan, leave this earthly body.
Harry: Praise Jebus.

Very good.

 

[Blaby blue blood]

Gattuso: Now if I strangle you and Harry tickles your balls, your erection will be like Nelsons column and your ejaculation will take your breath away.

 

[Motown Fox]

Gattuso: I was told Jordan had big tits but you're just one big Scottish tit!!

 

[spionfox]

Gattuso: Now if I strangle you and Harry tickles your balls, your erection will be like Nelsons column and your ejaculation will take your breath away.

Speaking from personal experience? :icon_wink

 

[Blaby blue blood]

Speaking from personal experience? :icon_wink

Hell yes, he may have a face that looks like a withered Halloween pumpkin, but Harry sure knows how to tickle the testicles! :icon_wink

 

[Steven]

Gattuso: No it's not tonsillitis.