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The BladeForums.com 2024 Traditional Knife is ready to order! See this thread for details: https://www.bladeforums.com/threads/bladeforums-2024-traditional-knife.2003187/
Price is$300$250 ea (shipped within CONUS). If you live outside the US, I will contact you after your order for extra shipping charges.
Order here: https://www.bladeforums.com/help/2024-traditional/ - Order as many as you like, we have plenty.
Movie Quote time!
- Thread starter Gary W. Graley
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and don't cross the road if you can't get out of the chicken
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very good! it's on to you
"Hot Fuzz"
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O Brother, Where Art Thou?
You're correct. Have at it.
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"don't any of the tits in this country work?"
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nope sorry
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correct! wow! I'm amazed anyone got that one
This one's kinda long but this scene was so funny IMO:
Q: "Rory? Yeah I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated, you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing - it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone to the local battle-cruiser to catch the end of his footer. Nobody is watching the custard so he turns the channel over. A fat man's north opens and he wanders over and turns the Liza over. 'Now f*** off and watch it somewhere else.' Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game; so, calm as a coma, he stands and picks up a fire extinguisher and he walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, then he plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. 'That's f***ing it,' says the guy. 'That's f***ing what' says Rory. Rory gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty; he then flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the man's lit up like a leaky gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turned back to his game. His team's won too. Four-nil."
Q: "Rory? Yeah I know Rory. He's not to be underestimated, you've got to look past the hair and the cute, cuddly thing - it's all a deceptive facade. A few nights ago Rory's Roger iron's rusted, so he's gone to the local battle-cruiser to catch the end of his footer. Nobody is watching the custard so he turns the channel over. A fat man's north opens and he wanders over and turns the Liza over. 'Now f*** off and watch it somewhere else.' Rory knows claret is imminent, but he doesn't want to miss the end of the game; so, calm as a coma, he stands and picks up a fire extinguisher and he walks straight past the jam rolls who are ready for action, then he plonks it outside the entrance. He then orders an Aristotle of the most ping pong tiddly in the nuclear sub and switches back to his footer. 'That's f***ing it,' says the guy. 'That's f***ing what' says Rory. Rory gobs out a mouthful of booze covering fatty; he then flicks a flaming match into his bird's nest and the man's lit up like a leaky gas pipe. Rory, unfazed, turned back to his game. His team's won too. Four-nil."
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