That, of course, gave licence to Cameron "WhaleOil" Slater, and since Sunday afternoon, Kris Fa'afoi has, in the best traditions of Where's Wally, popped up in all manner of settings from the past.
And this morning, WhaleOil has the money shot; Kris Fa'afoi does indeed have a remarkable memory; he was there! The camera does not lie, although PhotoShop might stretch credibility at times. Boy, he's aged well!
22 comments:
isn't the woman behiond the counter Annette King?
It's a startling similarity!
isn't the woman behiond the counter Annette King?
It's a startling similarity!
Margert Shields; former Labour MP. But yes, there is a likeness!
'the money shot' eh Invention... you fucking wish.
Ah Santa; you obviously missed the "humour" tag. Lighten up mate; all that bitterness can't be good for you!
Your alignment with Mr Slater is truly ill advised.
Bitter? Me? Hell I'm laughing my arse of mate.
S
"Off" has two f's mate
Fs has no apostrophe. Mate. And considering it took an extra keystroke rather than an omitted one, you lose. You're a grammar fool.
think you'll find you're wrong little boy, just go away
C'mon Santa; you've got a consignment to organise ...
jeez... that wasn't me!
52 days to xmas!
Do us all a favour Santa; get yourself a Blogger ID and post under it. All these Anonymouses does a bloke's head in!
I still luv ya Santa, what are my chances of you organising a unicorn for me...been waiting bloody decades??
No apostrophe in Fs. It's that simple. Look it up. Your inability to determine the facts indicates how seriously we should take any of your statements. i.e. NOT!
You're a grammar fool, for f's sake.
(And if you can't tell the difference between Fs and f's you should ask for help).
boo hoo dick-wad
Game, set and match @Anon 3:11
Lame, shit and thrashed @Anon 4:03
How small is your man-hood you saddo?
teeny. still interested? I'm not up to much this evening...
My manhood is gargantuan. Huuuuge! Like my brain. Like my ability to spell and count and write properly. Like the number of real friends I have. Like the breasts on all 20 of my girlfriends. Huuuuge I tell you. Like how shit you are. Like the gap between what is real and what you believe. Like the size of your shame and fear of people who are funnier, richer, better looking and smarter than you.
we all believe you, honest, and we all eva so impressed
I don't believe it for a second. Even if it's true.
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