I have awoken with an hankering for dippy eggs with marmite slatheréd soldiers.

I am eating an banoffee waffle at a 'sprinkles' in hampshire's bournemouth. There is some delightfully naff musak. Feels a bit like an unused scene from a tarantino film.

Only another day or so before we can all ignore our podcasts, refuse to peruse the news and stop worrying about the seemingly endless decay of humanity for a bit. A month of #thecricket, with added christxmas.

Went to the shop for some toilét roll and remembered that i am a adult and can do whatsoever i please - so i have purchased this advent calendar and will not be conforming to tradition.

Happy international men's day to @podders.bsky.social.

Kubrick's unsuccessful first draft.

Snur!

@devondympsy.bsky.social Happy birthday you utter delight. x.

This thread is the rosetta stone of our times.

Chaired a committee meeting tonight (finance & governance - thanks for asking) that was TWO (2) HOURS AND 18 (EIGHTEÉN) MINUTES LONG. During which...

I cannot name three (3) of cloudflare's biggest hit songs, and neither can you.

Making a large pond for wild pigs seemed easy but it turned out to be a massive boar lake.

I BEG your seasonal pardon, Home Bargains?

At the

sure, I sometimes like to pretend I’m commentating on an animal football match but we all have our crosses to bear.

Shortbread sheep AND shortbread scottie dogs for breakfast, lads.

Tonight i am having ten (10) tiny burgers for dinner.

Well this can go and fuck itself...

Got these new trainers today but I can't get it out of my head that they look like fuckin DC Tosh Lines from The Bill

I note that they made sure there were both an archbishop of canterbury and an pope in office before they let the DGotBBC go. #names

Saw someone with the same teeth as me at the coincidentist.

I have breakfasted in hampshire's bournemouth.

'Zohran Mandami', but to the tune of Chicory Tip's 1972 hit 'Son of My Father'.

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Good morning from me and these three (3) tiny cakes.

Might treat myself to an glass of water.

Tuesday.

Accidentally let slip the dogs of war; lol.

Someone is playing mariah carey's christxmas song loudly near my flat.

I am in an john lewis.

I have been defeated by bubble and squeak.

Even winning this year’s Halloween costume prize couldn’t ease Carol’s existential ennui. “Another October, another ghost, another shiny prize. Maybe a pig’s ear would cheer me. Ah nuts, who am I kidding.”

I have now seen lack of afro. They were quite good.

I am about to watch lack of afro make noises.

I am eating kentucky fried chicken in southampton like an globalist.

Of course it was the statue that was called ozymandias; not the king of kings.

Today’s Halloween-based poem is called ‘Pumpkin’.

Coffee is a great bunch of lads.

Him: where are all the coffee filters? Me:

'I don't need any new friends or respect from you'. Doug Stanhope fills my veins.

Tonight has given birth to the phrase 'barking up the wrong chicken'.

To celebrate a 16% turnout for the labour deputy leader post i have treated myself to a riverside friéd breakfast. Zero regrets.

Plaid win, looking forward to the BBC telling me what that means for Farage

I have started drinking early.

Thursday.

Have any mps suggested that he be prosecuted for rape rather than having his titles/house removed? Seems like he did some rapes and should probably be prosecuted for them.

I have just had to use a self service till in an petrol station.

Tuesday.

Maybe this late night half price sushi will fix me