A guest post on Polandian.Eurovision - nobody loves us, we don’t care
i did a little research after you told me about your "thing", and if you want a way to make more money using your your blog you can enter this site: link. bye.
You leave my thing out of this, spamo man.
hi mate, this is the canadin pharmacy you asked me about: the link
"And there has been quite a few folk passing by"The little dialogue above puts those words in a slightly different light... Still, Beetroot has been a readable little blog over the years. I'm sure you'll find plenty to write about if you dig deep enough. Don't fall off the radar like so many of those who made their name in the 80s off the back of Thatcher.
I was hinting (rather facetiously) that some of your blog traffic may be down to spammers and other maniac folk. It's hard to believe that the beetroot has typcast itself as a single-issue blog about the PiS years - you wrote about many other things. For example Poles in the UK are still a live issue. And we still need visas to go to the US, despite us being in the EU for quite a while now. That's like Americans needing visas to go to Lancashire! And there is still no shortage of burak culture in Poland, either. Anyway, let's raise our glasses to beetroot and hope he reconsiders.
Ironic that a cunt should get the las t word on beartout. That's life!
and people that use that kind of language are very very sad people indeed.
I'd rather be called a cunt than a 'very very sad person indeed'. At least you know where you are with a cunt. It's short and dirty. It's normal where I live and in many places in the north. Being called 'very very sad indeed' feels like I'm being talked down to.
What if I just called you a fuckstilton? Or an arsecandle?
Both of you can suck out your own moralizing asses.
"I'd rather be called a cunt than a 'very very sad person indeed'. "Then you are even sadder than I thought.
Yes, I get your point. I'm very tempted to come back with some equally punchy invective but something tells me that as soon as I do that you'll hit the delete button. Perhaps it would be safer to call you 'deeply melancholy, lost in the imponderables of life in a way that can only be stemmed by an endless stream of distractions, drink or electric current'.
I am OK with the drink and distractions...even the melancholy. But the electric current? never tried that one! Sounds...kinky!
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