Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- But I do the funky chicken. - Now you're talking!
- All right, love? - Hi, Mum.
She'd have to be to put up with this kind of shit!
Just wanna know about dancing.
What's your initiative got to say about this, then, bog eyes?
- Put down and piss off. - Fucking hell!
Me breakdancing days are probably over.
The city's rolling mills, forges,
All right. Two weeks.
Didn't you work at Harrisons afore it shut down?
Gerald? Go get chuffed!
I'd run you down soon as look at you.
She don't think so.
Come on, put your hands together
Right. I need someone int' packing section.
You know where to find me when you tire of them poofs.
You should have taken your kit off.
Hang on, though.
I'm trying to get some brass together
Dad, I'm hungry.
You're in big trouble.
Well, like I say, get some new ones when you can.
- Bugger off. - Where have you bloody been?
All I need is 700 quid and they've got nowt on me.
- Come on, Dave. - No.
I'm Donald O'Connor, right?
Ah, well. There's nowt as queer as folk.
You're not very keen, are you?
- What are you doing? - What does it look like?
All right, don't get a benny on.
Now, I'm busy.
A Dire Straits double album.
Anti-wrinkle cream there may be, but anti-fat-bastard cream, there is none.
Give over, it's only a poster.
One more time, Gerald.
You're all right, Reg. There's some tea if you like.
How about it, Dave?
- Put that back. You'll break it. - I'm just looking.
How? You know...
Yeah. I suppose so.
Our old dinner lady's ont' front row!
I've got an empty bar on a Friday night.
and workshops employ some 90,000 men
Cam you just leave me alone?
That's not what I've heard.
That, gentlemen, is what we are looking for.
That's the wall.
- Get rid of him. - You'll be fine.
Hurry up, will you? Me feet have gone numb.
And I tell you,
Blimey...
What am I gonna do about this?
Sorry.
- They wouldn't. - Why not? He said her tits are too big.
In Bitcoin
standing at t'side of t'pool in me trunks
Nah. Tits are too big.
He's fine. We've not gotten it charged before.
- Better? How's that, then? - Well...
I think there's been a mistake. We'll check with the office.
We may not be young,
- Well, you said dancing. - It were a great idea, kid.
Aye, but they don't give you a hard-on, though, do they?
Come on, Dad.
- You can't dance. - We know, Gerald.
'Ey up, there's someone coming.
It's different for me! I've got a standard of living! Responsibilities!
Women only! It's on all t'posters, for fuck's sake.
Keep up, you fat bastard!
"Won't take a minute." Now what?
You're just like the rest of us.
Ah, come in, Torvill.
Right, then.
- What can you do? - Who the hell-fire's that?