I like the cut of his jib. Or gib. Meh. Whatever. My daughters were all told while growing up, "I don't care what colour, nationality, religion or whatever the bloke is you decide you want for a boyfriend/husband, but, no gingers, and no welsh. Not in my house. Don't even think about bringing home a copper haired taff or you'll be out on your ear". I stand by that totally too.
That's literally what my mind looks like. Only as it's an epiphenomenal manifestation of my brain function it's actually a bit less cheesy. And a bit more ineluctable. Sorry, I just felt like using some big words. I'm stuck in Scotland with the wife and dog. I'm not getting much sense out of either of them.
Just taken the dog for his last walk. Of the day, not ever. I'm not having him destroyed or anything. Anyway, as I walked along the drive, lights came on in sequence to guide my way. Classy. On the way back, **** all. Single direction sensors. Not good enough for 5 stars. It's going in the complaints book and no mistake.
Where do I start Ern? As I shuffled in abstract agony to the wife's car this morning( she was kind enough to take me but more on her later) I looked back at my house. I then saw my lad looking sadly out of the window at me. Or so I thought. I thought that he's probably worried about his old boy, my phone then went off and as I took it out of my pocket I saw it was a message from junior. I felt a flush of emotion and wondered what loving words my son had sent me to let me know just how much he thought of his old boy. I then read the message, it said in capital letters ; " YOU LOOK GAY". Thats the boy. We picked our daughter up on the way to Hull Royal, she'd been at a sleep over. We'd been sat in the room on my ward no more than 5 minutes when she declared she was bored and wanted to go home and play with her builder bear. No regard or thought for my ever deteriorating physical state what so ever. That's my daughter. When my tribe arrived at visiting I thought her indoors would be full of love, emotion and also be very happy that I wasn't suffering with anything too serious. Wrong. She basically called me an alcoholic, unhealthy fatso who only had himself to blame for ending up in hospital. That's the wife. See where your cunning plan falls down Ern? My family are sociopathic and heartless in equal measure. I could moan as much as I want. It would mean nothing to them. Nothing.
If you're having a bit of pain passing **** Carmine try having a bath. I once knew somebody who could **** freely as soon as his arse was in & he had the lid off his bottle of Matey. Full expulsion, no pain. Get the Auxiliary Nurses to help, Dave & Peter they're usually called. They won't be shy or judgmental. Get well.
Mine are the same don't let it get to you. Youngest who is 20 moved out 3 weeks ago to her own place. She's normally hard as nails. No emotion. Harsh and dry sense of humour that makes me laugh. But upsets her mum and sisters. She informs us earlier she misses us. On her own, when her mates or boyfriend ain't round she feels sad. Obvz I told her she's a gaylord.
****ting in the bath? No one with an ounce of self respect would ever consider that Ben. No one. Especially not Carmine. Not ever. Under any circumstances.
My missys is currently dying what seems a rather excruciating death. The sympathy groaning was audible over the episode of Curious George me and the little one were watching. I told her to **** off and die in bed. The point is, sometimes the boots on the other foot. Just wait for it and savour it. Where's Dave 4 is on soon.
I can **** Ben, I'm just in excruciating pain. The registrar said that the size of the perforation in my colon would have 99.99999% of blokes screaming in agony. In fact he said that there was only me, Chuck Norris and Ross Kemp that could withstand the pain I am in. FACT.
