Fowllyd

The water extracted from the clothes drains away in exactly the same manner as that used in the washing process - it's pumped out through the drainage pipe. You'll probably hear the machine's pump running as the dryer operates. Chances are the same applies to any fluff produced, though I'm not certain on that.

I'm truly touched that I've been nominated; had it been purely for 'most vacuous *****' I'd have voted for myself, but I just couldn't do so given the mention of 'most valuable poster'. so I remain resolutely on nul points. Long may it stay that way.

Was there a 'Post of the year' category in the awards? If not, there should be and I reckon Jeff's clinched the prize.

I am quite overcome. Truly. A proud member indeed, as always - it's just the effect you have on me. Sorry about the presents BTW, but I'm sure they'll clean up just lovely, isn't it. Oh crikey, how could I let that one slip out unedited? What would my brother say? Perhaps I should amend the original and affect a non-comprendi stance - it always works for MLG.

The birth of young Stenchtail was widely foretold By prophets and other great figures of old. Three wise men did come, some shepherds came too, Their homage to pay to young Bartholomew. Rich gifts did they bring, befitting a king, For so they considered this lowly offspring. To one preordained as the Muppet Show lord, They sang a harmonious, heavenly chord. Yet e'en as the sang, the babe's great flatulence Bestowed on them all a small sprinkling of sense. "Would a true lord produce such a sulphurous hum?" They pondered, while pushing a cork up his bum. "We think not!" they cried, "No boy-king is this, "Those olden-day prophets were taking the píss!" Their gifts they took back, their lawyers they sought, And left the young babe in ordure to cavort. But many a setback did Bart overcome, And grew up to rule over the slow and the dumb. He smote them with word clouds, he analysed Twitter, He rules his domain like a crazed babysitter All hail, all hail, our buttocks we clench, Yuletide homage we pay to our own Balti Stench. I would have to take issue on the who and the whom here - you are undoubtedly the object of stick-like adoration, not its subject. Incidentally, my brother has recently signed up on Saints Web (this is actually true). I am not at liberty to reveal his moniker, but should he ever actually post anything we'll see if you can spot him.

There already is, but the wrong one in my view. Peter Shilton is there from that team, Nick Holmes should be there in his place.

Couple of interesting pieces from the Guardian here: http://www.theguardian.com/football/2014/nov/17/whistleblowers-complain-fifa-ethics-report http://www.theguardian.com/football/2014/nov/17/i-was-traduced-by-judge-hans-joachim-eckert-fifa-world-cup-bid-report http://www.theguardian.com/sport/blog/2014/nov/17/reform-fifa-delayed-sepp-blatter-goes Hard to disagree with the points made by Owen Gibson in the last of the three. Blatter has got himself very firmly ensconced, and it's quite easy to see him carrying on until he decides to go or pops his clogs while still in post.

Just as a pointer as to why so many Saints fans hold Lallana in pretty low regard now, check out these two pages. First, on signing a new five-year contract with Saints, April 2013: http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/22112980 Second, following his signing for Liverpool, June 2014: http://www.liverpoolfc.com/news/latest-news/165547-adam-lallana-the-first-lfc-interview A choice quote from this, in case you miss it: I haven't seen anyone on here questioning Lallana's ability as a player, but plenty don't think to well of his qualities as a man. And, as Guan has mentioned above, the club's attitude towards him following his departure (which is not reflected in their attitude towards Lambert, Shaw or Chambers) also speaks volumes.

Bart, I am truly honoured (do you mind if I call you Bart? Bartholomew sounds so formal somehow). Incidentally, I did hear that your footballer mate's bird had had a fling with Sir Paul McCartney, but I'm not sure if it's true. Have you heard anything about Volkswagen Beatle?

You can find some excellent advice right here. Other than that, if your surname isn't too phonetically similar to Morgan, then I see no problems with you preferred choice. Morgan Matthews would sound fine. Morgan Morton wouldn't. Bletch bach, I can supply you with a very fine llama, isn't it. It may look a little short of leg and neck, but you won't notice the difference when you're standing behind it, if you catch my drift. And, if you do catch my drift, can you please sedate it and send it back to me. I miss it.

I'm sure I'm not the only one on here to sometimes look at other posters' monikers and wonder how they came up with them. There are, of course, any number of obvious ones - locations, surnames and the like - but others seem shrouded in mystery. Is Hypochondriac really one? Does Smirking Saint really do so (and, if so, how often and for what reason)? Why did the Dell Days pick a Gotham City super-hero as his new alias? How big, and indeed how bad, is B-cubed? How certain can we be of Heisenberg? Jeff is certainly unbelievable, but I'm not sure that was what he was getting at when he created the persona. Certain posters' names are crystal clear of course. We all know that the learned Professor Brian Earsy sees fit to mingle with us lowbrows under the pseudonym of Bearsy - and most edifying it is to have such an educated contributor. Others indulge in plays on words or anagrams - Buctootim is an example of the former and pap clearly an example of the latter, though I've yet to work out what his name is an anagram of (it's fiendishly clever, almost twisted). Another neat anagram is Saint Bletch - taking his real name of Bartholomew Stenchtail, he realised that his surname could (most appropriately) render 'Saint'. However, as 'Saint Letch' might give the unwanted impression that he came from Letchworth, he decided to use his initial as well, giving us the poster whom we all revere. As for myself, it's kind of an anagram as well. My given name is William Fitzgerald Lloyd; many years ago a friend took W. F. Lloyd and created Fowllyd from it, somewhat in homage to 80s rapper Schoolly D. In the intervening years, I've changed my surname to Tightly, in honour of my partner, Gerald. However, Fowllyd has stuck. Do you, dear Muppets, have any fascinating or hilarious tales to tell of the origins of your aliases? Or even trite and boring ones - I'm a tolerant soul, though I'll probably switch off if they're too long-winded and tedious.

This is the image I get...

Not sure of the last word there - surely it's 'they despise' rather than 'those who are despised'? On the other hand, I didn't even try, so who the hell am I to nitpick?

I begin, I think, to understand the complex Gosport demographic. Those who live shore side could be considered the highest of the low, while your quondam mate would have been far closer to the lowest, though not all the way there perhaps. Your family, I take it, were middle low (or perhaps upper-middle low - it's a subtle distinction). Of course he is, of course he is. No more need be said. Quite possibly a bit of both I think. But who shall those looked down on look down on? I'm fresh out of Latin today, else I'd have used some there.

Yes, I've seen the Gosport Mardi Gras - also the Lundi, Mercredi, Jeudi, Vendredi, Samedi and Dimanche Gras. A great deal to behold they all most certainly are. Actually, I've never been to Gosport on a Sunday, but I'm willing to extrapolate. Always. I'm interested to hear about your Uncle Francis - he clearly played a part (and a very large one too I would think) in making you the man that you are. Tell me though - was (or indeed is) he a family member, or a close and trusted friend of your father (or mother, come to that)?

I'm sorry my lord Bletch, but I just can't believe this tale. Are you seriously trying to tell us that there's a right side of the tracks in Gosport?

More likely Crocket or Tubbs I'd have thought - or maybe both...

I have rarely, if indeed ever, met a mushroom whose manners were other than impeccable. I'm glad to hear that you have had similarly pleasant fungal experiences.

Doesn't come as any kind of surprise to be honest. As soon as the murders had happened the local police seemed to decide that they'd been done by members of the migrant Burmese community, and they seem to have done everything they can to make that come true. A few weeks back there seemed to be some pretty strong suspicions centring on members of a local family, who I assume are Thai, then all of a sudden two Burmese men confess and we have the farcical 'reconstruction' bit. If it looks this much like a fit-up...

Yes, I can imagine that Mandy's just chuffed to bits that her ever-loving husband has made a "generous contribution to Andy Awford’s Pompey academy fanfunding campaign", and she's got a birthday greeting on their web site. And not just any old greeting - it's a personalised one. She'll be putting out big time tonight and no mistake.

Morgan has given that as his view of the matter, it's not a statement of outright fact - read what he's said again. As far as anyone knows who wasn't actually present at the meeting, he was simply told that he was staying. The bits about fan unrest, stadium burning and so forth are purely Morgan's thoughts, not quotes from anyone at the club. Personally, I very much doubt that he was told that they had been about to allow him to leave, but had changed their minds after some fans said some unpleasant things.

Also worthy of note that the comment about the board being worried by fans' reaction to the sale of Chambers - including the "burning the stadium" comment - was Morgan's alone; it's him ascribing thoughts to others which were not actually expressed to him. Put another way, it's his own interpretation of events. As others have mentioned above, there are other interpretations.

Thank you Balti Stench. I should stop now before I burst the forum with my verbal juices. It will also save me having to think of any more variations, which is harder than thinking of anagrams of your name, interestingly enough.

You cut me to the quick there, Snitch Bleat, but I have to cough to it - you're right. Ain't that peculiar? You should. You will enjoy it more than somewhat. As I will enjoy my award. As long as the nurse isn't Tokyo or the Bear in drag, then I predict a full recovery. But I fear the worst. The thread's throbbing organ could be massaged to a pulp. Incidentally, I was in East London a couple of months back and I happened to catch a cricket match. At first I was rather surprised to see a village team from Northumberland playing a match so far south, but then it occurred to me that the village cricket cup competition is national in its scope. Anyway, it was a close-fought game, and I quite enjoyed watching Poplar beat Cambo.

How you failed to spot my voice raised in welcome and my hands held in prayer in that post I will truly never know. I'll call that one a typo, though it may have been an unspoken lament for the loss of your erstwhile luxuriant mop. A moral there most certainly is. If you wish to adopt a moniker in the style of the great Damon Runyon (and I'd agree that it is an entirely understandable and even laudable desire), Pete the Meat isn't that moniker. Dave the Dude, Harry the Horse, Angie the Ox or indeed Benny South Street - all of these have a certain I know not what, as the French might say. Pete the Meat doesn't. Perhaps Pete Tenderloin would have seen him better through his life. I find it hard to imagine that a character known as Pete Tenderloin would have allowed his barnet to be tampered with in quite such a cavalier fashion. On the other hand, he did drive a lowered Mark I Escort with Mexico wheel arches, a choice which cannot but elicit approbation (as a homophonic aside, I like the idea of illicit approbation). Had he been Pete Tenderloin, I think he'd have had an Escort Twin Cam. Incidentally, the Escort was the first in the line of Ford cars named after - ahem - gentlemen's magazines. It was followed by the Fiesta, but a change in top management at Ford UK put a stop to this strategy, and the proposed Ford Tits 'n' Bums saw the light of day as the more humdrum Sierra. A crying shame, I'm sure you'll agree. A friend of mine (who sadly lacks any kind of out-of-the-ordinary moniker, Runyonesque or otherwise) is very fond of classic cars. He is, however, most scathing of the current vogue for Volkswagen camper vans, preferring small 1950s Fords. As he put it, Popular beats Combi every time.