Monkeys Fist

5-1.

@Howmanheyman If I lived in Peterborough, I’d also be soliciting middle-aged truckers for “coffee”

Made carbonara for the Fists tonight. Having been awake sine since 9pm last night, I may have accidentally necked the better part of a bottle of wine in the process. Guaranteed Kip tonight, though.

Carol Vorderman. https://twitter.com/carolvorders/status/1780565996853506523?s=46&t=w4r-LqU0SUcmGlTte5DwxQ I’ll have two large ones from the top, and a couple of small ones from below please Carol. Giddup!

Allergic reaction to his daughter’s snatch.

Your ex said much the same on her OF. Mid rattle.

How has this wide-mouthed, racist, facist cunt, who’s never been elected, had such an influence on this country’s politics for the last 10 years. I’d happily do the time for offing the cunt, instead of giving him a milkshake shower.

Well, that was an Alf Tupper finish to the game.

He’d be as successful at that as he has been as getting elected as an MP.

Daughters and Pram Staffies lock themselves in the shed before Dad Marra hears this. Ready To Groom meltdown incoming

Fyp The squareheaded cernt

Tbf, that’s more than a fair few deserve. The Les Routiers cafes in France are absolutely top notch, as are the rest stops on the autoroutes.

Probably not, as post-Brexit the paperwork and fuckery is a gargantuan toss. But, if the price was right, never say never. I’d need a little more experience before driving one over there though.

Has he been sleeping at work again, then?

So, having earned my beginner wings on the way down, it got the bar with oak leaves on the way back. My route home is A249-> M2->M25 -> Dartford crossing-> M25->M11->A14->A1M->A1 Every road and junction that I needed to take , up to the A1, was closed overnight, with diversions where they let a spider with inky legs fuck a map. I was in the shit I have 9hrs driving time per shift, split in to two 4.5hr sections with a mandatory break between- every time the truck stops, in traffic, at lights, etc, the counter pauses until you move off. Normally get to Ferrybridge, or thereabouts by the end of my first 4.5hrs, then trundle home in the 2nd part with time to spare. Because of the above perfect storm of road fuckery, when my first 4.5hrs was 2 minutes from the end, I got to the end of the A10 where it meets the M11… at fucking Cambridge. Took my break, realised that if I fucking leathered it*, I’d get to somewhere between Scotch Corner and Durham and my time would be up. * this means you keep your foot down on flats and bends, and on downhills, where you’d normally use airbrakes to stay at 56ish, I’d have to let it coast and pick up speed , only braking when absolutely necessary. Went to plan, tbh, until a massive snarl up just before Ferrybridge, when I worked out that I’d get to Durham or Washington services as my time ended. ( there’s and option to then take another 45minute break, where you cannot move the vehicle at all, and you get 1 more hour of drive time). Made it into Washington with 6 minutes left, parked up, hit “rest”, bacon buttie time. I thought I was home and dry, until I approached the Tunnel, and saw ahead an absolute whopper tootling along in a clapped out Transit, which was belching clouds of thick black smoke, like its tyres were on fire I thought “no way they’ll let that cunt through …” and then watched as they didn’t even look at him as he sailed in to the Tunnel and began filling it with thick black smoke. I was in the left lane, as my wagon is too high to fit through on the right lane, as was Smoky, who was one car ahead. The lad in between us lasted 30yds, then nipped in to the right lane and passed him. As we got to the flat in the middle, I was expecting him to speed up a bit for the hill out… … cunt slowed to running pace, smoke got thicker, and I thought “ He’s not going to make it up the hill” He got even slower, literally walking pace, ( I was going at 4mph behind him), when he put his hazard lights on. I honestly thought he was about conk it there and then, we’d have been stuck behind until the break down and ambulance ( because I would have got and gone MLF on him) arrived. Made it back to the yard with 20 minutes left

“ Holding his battered wang”

“ Eeya, Marra’s, this wrong ‘un says he speshileye… shpecilisis… … ‘ees fayvrit subject is Paediatric Psychology! ‘E’s after young Mick n Mickayla, and the babbys! “

Of the veritable gallimaufry of descriptors for the mackem condition, this one seemed most apt.

It’s no coincidence that Alexander the Great’s supposed coat of arms was red and white, marra.

A very reliable ITK reckons the other NUFC legend, Marcelino, is also in frame for the job. Things haven’t been this rockin’ in Persepolis since Cyrus the Great invented kebab meat and chips.

The bogs are actually just the fence that the sign’s on. Marras on one side, sisterwives on t’other.

Thompers-like behaviour, tbh.

Howay Quiff, you know the score very well. 👌