Oaks rd 8

[airgun god]

Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: portslade near brighton
Posts: 5,479

'The Oaks' August 23 RND 8 SIHFT

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Here we go again!

Signing in as soon as the 'technical side' arrives..!

£6 to shoot.

Plinking range available. (probably two) From any time after 8am.
Burger van on site.

kick off at 10am.

couldn't be simpler!
We are hoping to have the course spread out over three different areas, if the farmer doesn't move the beef though, we will struggle with two!!
(Chriiiiiiisss...Ave a word!)

High winds ordered for the day...you know you love it!

Directions on our website....There should be marshalls directing you to the usual parking field (watch it when braking on the grass if dewy)

Any standing only shooters that struggle on a target will be allowed to move way from the peg, just let your Buddy know!

Look forward to seeing your ugly mugs again!

'The Oaks'
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'The Oaks' UKAHFT Affiliated, SIHFT Can all members sign in BEFORE shooting see web site Thanks Mike.

[simmmo]

Another ten points clear.

Always in the yellow

[Stormdancer]

Having just been fleeced at the vets,I'm not sure if I will have any money for fuel by the weekend,( nice holiday I'm having 10 days without a car) depends if I get paid early enough,so 50/50 if I will be there.

[Feral]

Probably going to miss this one folks... slipped disc and can't drive on the tablets they've put me on, Daniel and I were hoping to complete the whole series

[Mog]

Another ten points clear.

Always in the yellow

Led by our Mighty Blackscale,
The Oakie's rejoice in splendour,
Forget the Evil Hobbit's idle boast,
Their lead is only slender.

[Alegazmoz]

Led by our Mighty Blackscale,

The Oakie's rejoice in splendour,
Forget the Evil Hobbit's idle boast,
Their lead is only slender.

'Stunned & shocked', a rhyming post,
Made I fear, in haste,
The lead my friend, beyond the Oaks,
Is larger than your waist.

arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! ...
. . . . . . . . . .

[Mog]

'Stunned & shocked', a rhyming post,

Made I fear, in haste,
The lead my friend, beyond the Oaks,
Is larger than your waist.

arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! ...

. . . . . . . . . .

Pot-Kettle-Black.

[mattinlondon]

Although Charles shooting is hardly heaven sent
He is truly a lovely old gent
Ok, so he's portly and smokes
Has a pathetic line in jokes
But he is the Open Champion of Kent..

I thank you.....

[blackscale]

Your lead maybe growing
But your hats don't start throwing,
'till the title is in your grasp!

And don't count your chickens,
Whilst the plot may yet thicken,
Or we may shove the cup up your hasp!

Just plinkin wiv ya finkin!

XX

[Shadow]

Your lead maybe growing
But your hats don't start throwing,
'till the title is in your grasp!

And don't count your chickens,
Whilst the plot may yet thicken,
Or we may shove the cup up your hasp!

Just plinkin wiv ya finkin!

XX

Or in more modern vernacular
"They don't like it up them"

[Alegazmoz]

Or in more modern vernacular
"They don't like it up them"

Your retort lacks the timing,
Of one that is rhyming,
So please take the trouble old chum,
And may I enlighten,
The 'Oaks' are from Brighton,
'Tops' for stuff up your bum.

arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! ...
. . . . . . . . . .

[Alegazmoz]

Your lead maybe growing

But your hats don't start throwing,
'till the title is in your grasp!

And don't count your chickens,
Whilst the plot may yet thicken,
Or we may shove the cup up your hasp!

Just plinkin wiv ya finkin!

XX

Aunty's at the 'Oakies' helm,
His cloth cut by a tailor,
Jolly Rodgers all his chaps,
Every one a sailor.

When it comes to writin' rhyme,
Sadly aunty's lackin'
Best he keeps his boys in line,
They know he has their backin'

arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! ...
. . . . . . . . . .

[jon f]

On a sunday morn. After online scorn. The field of cows is here. To some its called fun. The others they run. Fron targets both far and near. To those that get pissed. About targets they missed. You LL always have next year.

[Alegazmoz]

On a sunday morn. After online scorn. The field of cows is here. To some its called fun. The others they run. Fron targets both far and near. To those that get pissed. About targets they missed. You LL always have next year.

Oh me gawd! What have you done?
I wished you'd stayed in bed,
A bard you're not, to write such rot,
You nearly killed this thread.

arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! arf! ...
. . . . . . . . . .

[biggundave]

Whatevers been said. going to bed,here endeth the thread.LET IT BE SAID THE OAKIES WILL RISE TO WIN THE FIRST PRIZE WOULD NOT THAT BE A SURPRISE.we are the boys that make no noise no fuss no dust THATS US.