You may know one of my pals from the scrapstore then as she's in Cropredy.. not sure if she's by the Saucy Hound or one of the other spots. It's a nice spot there though. Saw Rimsky and Handkerchief play last time I was there 😁
Will do!
Donkeys are just happy little fellas, no need to eject from the store
Also, I think I've seen her before and wondered if she was yours!!
They're so easy Jools. Give them a biff.
I'm a couple of miles east these days, used to be further away and never went into town very often but I volunteer at the scrap store so it's a regular haunt now.
I'm in town tomorrow, I'll see if I can spot her!
Alpaca.
Armed with a positive affirmation wooden ruler in my right hand and a square calendar of L. S. Lowry in my left.
With the calendar placed between me and the beast, the alpaca glances at the unwelcoming gloom on the cover, feels the gentle tap of the ruler on its rear, heads to Flying Tiger.
Yep. I'm rubbish at following recipes but found choux relatively easy to not fuck up and easy to create various flavours with.
Cute sign outside my local barbershop 💈
No, no tomorrow is the big day and it's steak not salmon.
Salmon and anal day is in April
My new HER profile just landed
Welcome to the Great British Breakdown
Looks like a fun guy.
With talk of oil hitting $100 a barrel, let's remember a pre Radio 2 Rylan getting confused by the concept
He wore the RA's Gerry Beret - the kind you find in a second hand store?
Q: do you feel well enough to work? No.
Q: if Cate Blanchett rocked up in a convertible E-type, wearing that bottle green velvet suit (IYKYK) offering a day out with untold pampering and deliciousness, would you go?
Also no.
Ok; you're sick.
This is hilarious.
Also, completely enraging.
Look if he's buying the same shoes for all of them, could they not have had a swapsies meet in the playground
End of level boss 👁️ 👁️
+ speed + alcohol
![LET'S NOT PLAY FRISBEE WITH THAT POET ANYMORE.
[This is a comic strip, with a poem laid over it. On each panel a new line of the poem is written. The scene is a park, in the summer. A man in a trenchcoat - implicitly Philip Larkin - stands folorn, motionless, looking at people throwing a frisbee. It becomes apparent as the comic progresses that they are trying to play frisbee with him. He stand stock still for the whole comic, watching the frisbee as, panel by panel it soars closer and closer to him].
After contemplating the approaching frisbee for two silent panels, Philip begins his thoughts:
Unloosed, unheralded,
You soar toward me
Across the dying afternoon.
bright disc of childhood,
Long since thrown wide
Of Youth's green imaginings,
Your slow declining arc
Figures a sky-written truth:
We will all succumb, and soon
To earth's hard oblivion.
[The frisbee hits Philip on the head with a resounding DONK. He falls backwards, to the ground.
[Ends]](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:4m3we4apbjayclzcnhwe3pfp/bafkreibpyscry7bddmufqnk7wsfuxsflv4fkn4brwvkzxqurjkz7z67yoi)
Let's Not Play Frisbee With That Poet Anymore
“Don’t get mixed up with Ray Bloody Purchase”
Getting my mower out is not a euphemism.
#vaginadentata
And this is what I collected from the shed floor today, while getting my mower out.
After reading the wasps don't like the smell of mint, I picked the mint that was poking under the fence from next door's garden and shoved it in every crack of the shed door I could find.
They evacuated within a couple of days.
But these ladies were pissed off and preventing me access to my tools so needed to be evicted.
Being devoutly northern, and therefore tight as a gnat's chuff, I was not about to call out the village exterminator and fork out a whopping fifty pounds for this job. So I did the only sensible thing
