[Somebody's Fool]

Oh No!

[andy_e]

I feel like doing that to the noisy shit of a goose that lives practically outside my bedroom window- honk at 6am why don't you, you feathered menace.

[Fiend]

Poor Goose

It looks very calm for something with a crossbow bolt through it's neck though...

[dave]

you gotta love the dail mail reader's comments:

Bring back national service. That is the only way these idiots will learn how to respect. An absolute disgrace.

- Lisa, Manchester

Yeah, cos national service was renound for fostering an attitde of respect for all wildfowl. Thats the main reason they set it up.

[GCW]

An interesting trajectory for the crossbow bolt- upwards?  Were these Sub-Aqua Neds?
Quite big birds:

[GCW]

An interesting trajectory for the crossbow bolt- upwards?  Were these Sub-Aqua Neds?
Quite big birds:

Why didn't the picture appear in my previous post???  I don't understand

Edit:  Still doesn't- is it just me that can't see it?  Works on the preview.  Help!!

[andy_e]

I can see it. Maybe you're blind.

[GCW]

I can see it. Maybe you're blind.

Nope- still appears in the preview and review of thread in replies, but not in the thread.  Maybe I am blind- too much meths?

[Bonjoy]

More Geese in peril!

[Fiend]

Bonjoy you've got too many http//s in that link, perhaps you could ask a moderator to fix it for you 

[GCW]

I think BonJoy meant this.
 

[andy_e]

too much meths?

and ket and nitrous oxide and fags and booze...

[GCW]

too much meths?

and ket and nitrous oxide and fags and booze...

You know I gave up smoking 7 months ago.   

[Johnny Brown]

Some remarkable, if dated Goose news, even the more suprising as it comes through the hitherto unknown goose-channel of Cocktalk:

Once I did wipe me with a gentle-woman's velvet mask, and found it to be
good; for the softness of the silk was very voluptuous and pleasant to my
fundament. Another time with one of their hoods, and in like manner that
was comfortable. At another time with a lady's neckerchief, and after that
I wiped me with some ear-pieces of hers made of crimson satin, but there
was such a number of golden spangles in them (turdy round things, a pox
take them) that they fetched away all the skin of my tail with a vengeance.
Now I wish St. Antony's fire burn the bum-gut of the goldsmith that made
them, and of her that wore them! This hurt I cured by wiping myself with a
page's cap, garnished with a feather after the Switzers' fashion.

Afterwards, in dunging behind a bush, I found a March-cat, and with it I
wiped my breech, but her claws were so sharp that they scratched and
exulcerated all my perinee. Of this I recovered the next morning
thereafter, by wiping myself with my mother's gloves, of a most excellent
perfume and scent of the Arabian Benin. After that I wiped me with sage,
with fennel, with anet, with marjoram, with roses, with gourd-leaves, with
beets, with colewort, with leaves of the vine-tree, with mallows,
wool-blade, which is a tail-scarlet, with lettuce, and with spinach leaves.
All this did very great good to my leg. Then with mercury, with parsley,
with nettles, with comfrey, but that gave me the bloody flux of Lombardy,
which I healed by wiping me with my braguette. Then I wiped my tail in the
sheets, in the coverlet, in the curtains, with a cushion, with arras
hangings, with a green carpet, with a table-cloth, with a napkin, with a
handkerchief, with a combing-cloth; in all which I found more pleasure than
do the mangy dogs when you rub them. Yea, but, said Grangousier, which
torchecul did you find to be the best? I was coming to it, said Gargantua,
and by-and-by shall you hear the tu autem, and know the whole mystery and
knot of the matter. I wiped myself with hay, with straw, with
thatch-rushes, with flax, with wool, with paper, but,

Who his foul tail with paper wipes,
Shall at his ballocks leave some chips.

Afterwards I wiped my tail with a hen, with a cock, with a pullet, with a
calf's skin, with a hare, with a pigeon, with a cormorant, with an
attorney's bag, with a montero, with a coif, with a falconer's lure. But,
to conclude, I say and maintain, that of all torcheculs, arsewisps,
bumfodders, tail-napkins, bunghole cleansers, and wipe-breeches, there is
none in the world comparable to the neck of a goose, that is well downed,
if you hold her head betwixt your legs. And believe me therein upon mine
honour, for you will thereby feel in your nockhole a most wonderful
pleasure, both in regard of the softness of the said down and of the
temporate heat of the goose, which is easily communicated to the bum-gut
and the rest of the inwards, in so far as to come even to the regions of
the heart and brains. And think not that the felicity of the heroes and
demigods in the Elysian fields consisteth either in their asphodel,
ambrosia, or nectar, as our old women here used to say; but in this,
according to my judgment, that they wipe their tails with the neck of a
goose, holding her head betwixt their legs, and such is the opinion of
Master John of Scotland, alias Scotus.

[Bonjoy]

Astounding! 
What was the thread topic!?!?!?!

[r-man]

When the toilet roll runs out...

[Somebody's Fool]

Dynamite.  Some of the mental imagery stirred by that passage is quite astonishing.

[butters]

Yet more goose news: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/south_of_scotland/6575525.stm

bluebrad

[dave]

late breaking goose-cast:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/essex/6586665.stm

[Bonjoy]

 I see the guy on the right is reaching for the goose neck. I do hope he isn't intent on testing it's virtues on his nockhole!