Monkeys Fist

Keeps tripping over pizza boxes in his hallway, fucking minger.

Take a hammer, if it’s cloudy (which it will be), you can make sure to see some stars.

In Falstone? a selection of reviews- “We stumbled on The Black Cock by chance, during an unplanned overnight in the area.” “I had to stop him licking the bowl” Sounds like the landlord is a bit of cunt. If you’re in that area, I’d always recommend the Pheasant Inn, which is 2 minutes away from the Black Cock. Much nicer.

Going to leave us a bit short on keepers…

Aye, after they’re par-cooked, just before they go in the oven. I use goose fat

I thought that too, but if you look on Google Earth, there’s nowt but overgrown weeds in the middle of them.

He’s a footballer mate. Deciding if they want Coco Pops or Weetabix is taxing for them,so potentially career changing decisions is going to take a while.

Oops! Sorry My point stands though, including negotiations for this lad who, if he comes to us, will be Howed in to a player that he never thought he’d be.

If I was Rio Ferdinand, (and thank fuck I’m not) , I honestly wouldn’t be putting my receding hairline anywhere near the list of plastic surgery priorities, the lopsided, duck lipped, unfaithful cunt that he is.

He’s 26 and should be about to hit the form of his career* If we can, we absolutely should. We need to move beyond the small-time thinking of “he’s disrespected us” and realise that to be a world beating club, we need to adapt to having world beating players (and their demands). * who’s going to improve him more than Howe?

Unfortunately for @Howmanheymanand other men of principle, this is going to be the inevitable price we will pay for our future position as world beating bastards. I genuinely feel for proper Man U fans once the plastics desert them* * no I fucking don’t, obvs! Fuck them with a rusty stick

A fellow of Taste. ( Marmite on toast was one of my fail safe munchie standards way back when I was stoner. It’s now one of my regular breakfast choices. ).

Making a Beef roast this afternoon. Top tip for roasties- make up 1 good teaspoon of Marmite, ( I use the XO version), knock it back with just a little hot water until it’s at good, runny, coating consistency. Add whatever dried herbs you like, or don’t. Just before you put your roasties in the tray for the oven, toss them in the above. This is a game changer for your roasties, if there are anti-Marmite heathens in your feeding group, do not tell them about this, until after they’ve eaten and then demanded the secret ingredient. Honestly, fuck all the semolina and bashing, and other “hacks”, this makes your roasties world beaters.

Hinge and Bracket.

I’m sure whatever it was, it was totally innocent and wholesome … … the paedo-looking fiddler

He’s at that age…

No. They’re still around as a cult, but the place has been People’s Kitchen since the 80s.

Done, with several “BAAAASTARDS!” when my finger moved and it shot back to the top. Comes across very well, and very honest.

Love your avatar mind

Does it continue after this … ”during which time he flew over the handlebars of his bike at the team hotel.” Thats where it ends for me when I hit that link.

I’ve also missed off The People’s Kitchen from this list. Never knew it started out as a Plymouth Brethren chapel. For those not familiar with these mentalists, they were/are basically an extreme Puritan cult. For most of my life I grew up believing that my paternal Grandad had only one younger brother. Turns out he was the second youngest of five, the elder three siblings before him joined the Brethren, and because he and his brother Nicky didn’t, they were cut off from the family. My brother and I only found out while we were doing our family tree thing. The eldest sibling was his sister. When we found out about them my daughter was about 5yrs old and I was mildly freaked out to discover that we’d given her the exact same name, first middle and surname, as the then eldest sister Also, my Grandad was a wind-up merchant and would jovially wave and greet his Brethren brothers every time he saw them, knowing they’d get in bother if they replied We got in touch with the daughter of one of his brothers, who left the Brethren at the first opportunity, and she told us her father was the caretaker of the local chapel and as such was given a bungalow to live in - in his late 70s, his wife passed away and he was seen not long after having a cigarette at her graveside by a Brethren, and duly reported. The first she knew about this was when her elder sister, who was deep in to the whole cult, dropped him off at her door with a bag of clothes and a note saying he’d been booted out and lost his home, and was persona non grata to the Brethren now. Fucking horrible lunatics.

Never once registered where that was!

Is that it there?

CT spitting out Boldon rap on his garden sofa this morning