Hey @bobatealee.com any chance you could DM me your email. Have a project I would love to chat to you about?
Great album
Spa day
Big news from the Masterchef kitchen.
I walked the South Bank to St Paul's at 4am, freezing and nearly blown off my bike by the wind. London at night is brilliant—quiet yet lively with late-night revellers. Got stopped at Borough Market, like I was a CIA agent. My favourite vibe.
I'm watching Titanic and just realised they hit the iceberg because the two guys, who are supposed to be on iceberg watch, are distracted by Jack and Rose getting it on. So, their love story basically led to the deaths of hundreds. Well done, you cunts.
Do you ever search for designer glasses for virtual try-ons, even if you don’t need them? No, me neither.
If Spotify Wrapped is the highlight of your year, I’m genuinely concerned about your life choices.
Spotify Wrapped is the only time people care about their music taste. The rest of the year, it’s just background noise for their existential dread.
Has anyone had those chats with people who are overly protective of their Spotify? My wife keeps saying, "What's that going to do to my Spotify wrapped?" Is this really where we are? Who gives a fuck?
This is the biggest news story of the year.
💔 And let’s not forget, he orchestrates the murder of thousands by convincing a lookout that he can smell ice, which totally fucks up the whole thing. What a cunt.
🍷 He gets her drunk, makes her dance with some of his dodgy Irish mates, and then basically gets off with her.
😳 But honestly, when you watch it, it’s a pretty sinister film. It’s about a homeless guy who follows around a posh woman and eventually traps her in this weird, controlling sexual relationship.
🎬 I'm watching Titanic on Netflix because, I dunno, it feels like the right time of year for that sort of thing.
Gregg Wallace: a sausage in a tuxedo
Nature called in the shed, and I answered—behind the wall, no less. Midstream, I glanced up to find an elderly woman, reminiscent of Norman Bates' mother, grinning and waving. I paused and waved back. It was quite the moment.
Ah, the perfume adverts are back: a chaotic collage of A-listers frolicking on sun-soaked shores, desperately wooing silent strangers. It’s as if a 70s auteur named Piers shuffled footage into a surrealist pile of piss where gravity takes a holiday.
Ever sit down to binge-watch a series, and the picture goes all fuzzy? Me and the missus start blowing, clicking, and clapping at the screen like it’ll magically fix itself. We’ve been at it for years, and every time, one of us claims we’re the reason it’s sorted. Classic.
V sexy stuff. Cold. Probably stings. But Im here for it.
Early morning snaps at King's Cross, London. 📸 It was bloody freezing, but a blast. ❄️
Putting kids to bed is like wrestling with a rabid ferret covered in napalm
Like inviting a ghost to your housewarming. You’re not sure who they are, but they’re definitely watching you.
You tell them to come back whenever, and they just show up whenever the hell they fancy. You don’t pay them on the spot; it’s all, “I’ll get you next time.” Anyone else think that’s a bit weird?
Window cleaners have this bizarre, informal yet oddly intimate relationship with you. They just rock up whenever, stick a ladder against your house, and peek through your windows. You barely know who they are, and payment? It's a total mystery.
