the dark one
Winger
Knew them before the holidays.youre not doing very well here.Must do better.Oh aye, it was the couple you met on holiday wasn't it?
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Knew them before the holidays.youre not doing very well here.Must do better.Oh aye, it was the couple you met on holiday wasn't it?
I used to love that! Mick and Keith running the corner shop. I must try and find some on you tube.
I was watching some the other week, brilliant!
I found some. That's me sorted. I always liked John Sessions. And I prefer Phil Cornwell's Michael Caine to the real thing!
'You goldfish faced f***'
Sounds canny cool. Love a good Sharpe novel.Not sure I've hidden totally but I've tried to stay very still and ignore the door on a few occasions.
Meeting people in the street is thing I dislike, especially if they're going in the same direction as me and have a tendency to walk too slowly. I've also started trying to avoid the local benign nut job. He lives along the road and seems okay at first (well, as okay as you can be as someone who regularly goes and sits out on a bench near his house to have a cigarette and a can of Stella) then after being derailed by him two or three times, you realise that he will manouvre it round to Bernard Cornwell's Sharpe books (and/or the TV adaptation) and from there (via brief mention of Napoleon) to the SAS who are indoubtedly already in North Korea, in deep cover, in case things kick off.
Up there with 'you cardigan fuck' aimed at Roger Moore and 'chinned prick' at Jimmy Hill'You goldfish faced f***'
I used to do this, then he died suddenly one night and I beat myself up about it for years. Still do 20 years laterOur lasses grandad comes round all the time at the most awkward times and always wants to stay for a cup of tea and to tell the same stories. Not going to lie we’ve hid a few times including the kids
I'd forgotten those! Both brilliant. I'm working my way through them. I'm a bit distracted as I realise whenever Jimmy Hill's on I keep pulling a similar face.Up there with 'you cardigan fuck' aimed at Roger Moore and 'chinned prick' at Jimmy Hill
Aye I'm gonna start on them tomorrow on me day off...may as well make the most of the day! Hopefully I won't start quoting Pesci and threatening customers at work!I'd forgotten those! Both brilliant. I'm working my way through them. I'm a bit distracted as I realise whenever Jimmy Hill's on I keep pulling a similar face.
He thought you were the rentman.That twat Bowie done the same when I used to turn up!
Provi?Relative of Roger's?
I used to hide behind the settee from this woman and she'd actually peer through the sitting room window. I had to bribe the cats not to point at me crouching down.
Not sure I've hidden totally but I've tried to stay very still and ignore the door on a few occasions.
Meeting people in the street is thing I dislike, especially if they're going in the same direction as me and have a tendency to walk too slowly. I've also started trying to avoid the local benign nut job. He lives along the road and seems okay at first (well, as okay as you can be as someone who regularly goes and sits out on a bench near his house to have a cigarette and a can of Stella) then after being derailed by him two or three times, you realise that he will manouvre it round to Bernard Cornwell's Sharpe books (and/or the TV adaptation) and from there (via brief mention of Napoleon) to the SAS who are indoubtedly already in North Korea, in deep cover, in case things kick off.
You say that as though there's something amiss in doing what he's doing.I've also started trying to avoid the local benign nut job. He lives along the road and seems okay at first (well, as okay as you can be as someone who regularly goes and sits out on a bench near his house to have a cigarette and a can of Stella)
We did the same in our house but it was always from the rent or the provi gadgie.http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-e...nd-007-friends-dylan-jones-book-a7965561.html
A new book tells the story that when David Bowie moved to Switzerland at the end of the 70s, he didn’t know anybody there.
One day, about half-past five in the afternoon, there’s a knock on the door, and there he was: ‘Hello, David.’ Roger Moore comes in, and they had a cup of tea. He stays for drinks, and then dinner, and tells lots of stories about the James Bond films. They had a fantastic time - a brilliant night.
But then, the next day, at 5.30… Knock, knock, it’s Roger Moore. He invites himself in again, and sits down: ‘Yeah, I’ll have a gin and tonic, David.’ He tells the same stories - but they’re slightly less entertaining the second time around.
It was apparently here where the burgeoning friendship came to an end. After two weeks of Moore turning up at 5.25pm - literally every day - David Bowie could be found underneath the kitchen table pretending not to be in.
Brilliant. We've all done it. I used to hide behind the settee from a boring friend of my sister's.
I used to do this, then he died suddenly one night and I beat myself up about it for years. Still do 20 years later
) to the SAS who are indoubtedly already in North Korea, in deep cover, in case things kick off.