The Chinal Pearl Inn part 8

Oh dear! That's unpleasant. Gonna get shit all stirred up again.

*sigh*
 
Had to google hoosegow

The British Military's prison is referred to as the 'Glass House' and it has been known though more of a regular forces issue I do beleive.

The US must be a rowdier bunch. They have lots of names for it: guardhouse, stockade, brig. And if you are in the San Diego area, most likely you will end up in the Tijuana jail. LOL
 
The US must be a rowdier bunch. They have lots of names for it: guardhouse, stockade, brig. And if you are in the San Diego area, most likely you will end up in the Tijuana jail. LOL

We just have one now for the three services, based at Colchester.
 
So many people in the inn tonight but not much chatter right now?
 
The 1500? LOL They're all good, I suppose.... :eek:

Hi there FD! :cattail:

WHY are cauliflowers boys? Explain.

Nice to have presents from all. :kiss: Making my way through....
 
The 1500? LOL They're all good, I suppose.... :eek:

Hi there FD! :cattail:

WHY are cauliflowers boys? Explain.

Nice to have presents from all. :kiss: Making my way through....

Well you see it all starts with a mummy and a daddy and they love each other very much... and cauliflowers are boys dammit! They are not girls!

You can have broccoli and brussel sprouts but cauliflowers are ours!

:cool:Uggg:rose:
 
*raises an eyebrow at Uggg, picks up some nuts from the bowl on the bar, and throws them one at a time in his general direction.*

Whatever you say. :p :p :p
 
*raises an eyebrow at Uggg, picks up some nuts from the bowl on the bar, and throws them one at a time in his general direction.*

Whatever you say. :p :p :p

HEY YOU

Both Uggg and I have independently cleaned this bar area today.

*Shoves brush in Dolly's direction*
 
*raises an eyebrow at Uggg, picks up some nuts from the bowl on the bar, and throws them one at a time in his general direction.*

Whatever you say. :p :p :p

*tries to catch dolly's nuts in his mouth*

*Takes a perverse pleasure in typing that previous sentence but damned if he can work out why.*
 
When she finally stepped back into the CPI her hair was untamed, draping messily behind her to just above the start of her jeans. A silly, heather-gray graphic T-shirt clung to her: a periodic table of Super Mario World. She looked exhausted, which probably didn’t make sense: she slept plenty today, five hours the first go round, three the next. Still, the bags under her eyes were a little more prominent. Her typical rosy cheeks looked pale, and if anyone really took the time to look her over, the weathering of her face looked exacerbated by the stress she undertook today.

She rubbed her face hard, out of habit, almost knocking her glasses off, then sighed angrily at herself.

“I’m back,” she muttered to anyone listening. She scanned the place a couple times; spotting FD, she made a straight shot to the chair beside him and flung herself down.

“Hey FD,” her voice was small, she straightened her posture, clasping her hands tightly between one another before wringing her fingers—definitive clicks of protest could probably be heard, but she had gotten so use to the pain and sound of doing it that she hardly realized it might look and sound disturbing.“How was your day? Work treat you alright? Anything interesting happen?” the tone and pace of her voice was off, as if she had forgotten how to breathe, so it came out more as a jumble of words that probably sounded like nonsense. She was conscious of it, and let her words stop, then glanced up at him, trying with all her might to give him a smile.
 
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