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time isn't on my side
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Well, if you had actually presented a question, such as What was he in relation to the dead man, that would be the right answer. Since you didn't though, saying the dead man was his son is correct in that it comes to the general conclusion that the riddle wants you to get at.
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Avin' It!
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"Brothers and sisters I have none, that man's father is my father's son."
Break it down with logic...is my fathers son (remember he has no brothers or sisters) so he refers to himself + is that mans father = his son.
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Choose Liverpool. Choose the dole queue. Choose to scam disability benefit. Choose mind-numbing, grinding efficiency over flair. Choose Torben Piechnik, Istvan Kozma and Paul Stewart. Choose not to win a single league title since the backpass rule was implemented. Choose penalties. Choose car stereos, hubcaps and stanley knives. Choose to trade on your proud sense of tradition and then not lift a finger in protest when two American billionaires who don't even know the name of your club decide to buy it. Choose to win the European Cup whilst only having to play seven matches. Choose to bask in a perpetual, sickening, media love-in. Choose celebrities who **** off out of your city as soon as they have earned the money to do so and then spend the rest of their lives harping on about how wonderful it is. Choose to sing about Munich until confronted with your own tragedy. Choose to end it all in an orgy of self pity, just another excuse to perpetuate the grief culture spawned by your selfish, insular ****ed-up excuse for a city. Choose your future. Choose Scouse. |
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Whitewater!
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You guys aren't going to stop now are you?
Leaving the community with naught but an old answer and no question.
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Right you lot, shut it. Strewth Fowler my son, all looks a bit pear-shaped round here or what. The govenor's talking, Saturday's game, very dodgy, very naughty, could go a little pear-shaped. If there's a rough things might be well iffy. These faces are a little bit hard, know what I mean, a little bit of oof, have some of that my son, bosh, sorted, ta ta, got me, so be clever. Good, now shut it!
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