Sweet Pete

^^^ Afraid of the concept of unconditional love.

Mate, my then infant son absolutely terrified his bidey in. She was recoiling In horror as the wee barra crawled towards her smiling. They're all posturing with the horror movie shtick. Really they're afraid. Afraid of babies.

That's a question that the detainees asked themselves often at Belsen.

I drive a monster truck so it doesn't affect me, but I'm concerned about the little people.

Just turned on my estranged wife's dodgy fire stick and her favourite channels, listed right there on her homepage, are Nicktoons and "xxx fap tv 3".

You must have some amount of shite in your house. Some clever poster could aggregate all of the individual pics you have posted up here I'd imagine and it would make for an impressive inventory of random film/brutal murder paraphernalia Admittedly I've not been in his house for a few years, but it's safe to say, he and his bird FUCKING LOVE movie memorabilia. Even his gritty wee flat in Wales had a Psycho themed shower curtain.

I know fine well what causes them. People complain because they should be repaired. It's not like an "old man shakes fist at cloud" scenario where people are moaning about things that are beyond control. They are repairable, and they should be repaired. Driving round the roundabout at Cameron Toll shopping centre shouldn't need a dune buggy.

Might buy that as a works van if it were closer to civilisation.

Pot holes. The roads in this country are a fucking disgrace. Went over one in South St Glasgow recently that was so deep my car stalled. There's one about a foot deep on a 50 mile an hour section of the Clydeside Expressway. Even hit a few on the M8 on my way past Livingston recently, which was interesting at 70mph. Nearly landed on those daft pyramid things. Thankfully a Fiat 500 broke my fall and I was able to continue my journey East without further disruption. But be a wear.

On the Titanic, yeah. Only 36 killed in the Hindenberg disaster. Practically nothing.

Where I live is what I'd politely call "economically deprived" (not me, you understand. I'm loaded.). As a result, the local Facebook marketplace is a fascinating, if sad, insight into the lives of single mothers and the elderly. Recently a young woman asked if anyone wanted to buy a cordless landline phone handset so she could top up her electricity meter.

Tell that to the Titanic. And the Hindenberg.

I'm doing Pete well, thank you.

Bless your heart.

Never heard that peado joke punchline before. How dies the set up go?

We'll probably huff and puff and look middlingly competent and then concede in the 80th minute.

I've recently discovered that if you live in a different house, in a different town from your spouse, then you get along much better.

Sounds like the punchline to an old peado joke.

Cast are sound. Saw them just a few years ago and still sounding good. John Power is a talented songwriter. The likes of "I'm so lonely" and "Sandstorm" are far beyond the likes of some of their peers like Dodgy, Elastica and The Boo Radleys.

So more a mass murderer than serial killer.

Boyd not fit to play this match due to a knock according to today's BBC article.

Yes, twice. One I jacked after two months, one I jacked after three months. I leave both off my CV, nobody ever asks for references anyway, and everyone's CV is 50% lies.

Yeah, that.

I'm not having Rage Against The Machine. Three cracking records. Nirvana's second and third albums were both excellent, too. Bleach maybe hasn't aged all that well though.

I believe he's joking.