I promise not to use the doorbell, instead I shall announce my arrival by throwing acorns at the door.

One evening I built a campfire to keep warm on the banks of a river in southern France. As the fire got going, millions of moths poured from the trees into the flames. As the numbers increased the flames leapt higher, and the moths became the fuel. The horror, the horror…

This book Tells you how to handle this, along with everything else you need to know to rebuild all systems in society from scratch should there be some sort of time machine based accident. It’s a good read!

I used to work for a general builder we all called Nick The Freak. We were in our mid twenties and having a pretty good time of things off site. I used to call up the gaffer and say “Nick man, I can’t make it to the job today, I feel like shit” and he would say- yea Squeezer, Mars is in alignment with Saturn this week. Understandable. I’ve never appreciated bullshit so much.

Mump

At the beginning of the first world war they plotted all military operations using these giant pins. Later in the conflict ‘map pins’ were developed and these ‘land pins’ became obsolete. Another fascinating example of how the horrors of war pushed technology forwards in civilian applications.

He’s right. Get rid of the Tories, then apply pressure to Labour. It’s the only viable option. If anyone has any suggestions on a realistic alternative I’d love to hear it.

See, I’m not a fan of the royal family, but I’m pretty sure Charles would never talk to that cunt for a second, and for that I give him a tiny shred of respect.

Martin Freeman

In Greece I had the geezer dip out back and come back with 4 litres from the family trees, poured into old water bottles. Good shit. Peppery.

Surely should be more embarrassed by the way she cheated British taxpayers out of 30 million quid, but hey, different folks…

It’s euromami.

Followed government pay guidelines and froze pay for 12 fucking years.

Imagine thinking that you’re tougher than context.

I’m an artist, maker and workshop technician. Apollo refugee.

We had a fish and chip shop opposite the pool. I don’t think I have eaten anything better than those salty vinegary chips, the childish exhaustion and hunger made them absolutely magical.

That chicken is just so… testicular

Criminal. Should be called the minimal English. Who hurt that poor sausage.

The persistent bullshit cuntery is exhausting. This feels like a tactic, trumpian relentless attention grabbing. Fuck him.

I once enjoyed a delicious Colombian meal at a street table in Seven Sisters, north London. Shortly after the food arrived two men got into an altercation on the street, both acting like complete arseholes. One of them then disappeared off for 5 minutes and returned with a claw hammer he’d bought from a nearby hardware shop. He attacked the man half-arsedly with the claw hammer for a while then wandered off, but not far. Then the police turned up, and did a terrible job of working out who hammer man was. It was very entertaining, and the man who was being attacked with the hammer was not really injured. Dinner and a show 🤌