Cos I’m a daft cunt I saved some of the seeds from the pumpkin I cooked this evening cos it looked like a goodun. Gonna grow sons and daughters of goodun next year and it’ll give me something to look forward to.
Must have been terrifying. The Maccy Ds opposite gave them all free breakfasts and the church opened up to let them stay and gave them blankets and stuff so the good people out numbered the bad.
I’m just glad everyone got out of the flats above and no one was hurt. Some cunt on a local FB group posted ‘Well there goes Christmas’. Like you can’t buy cheap shit in walking distance anywhere else in London. Some poor buggers lost their entire homes and belongings. Bellend.
I agree. I cheekily take the piss out of Penge but I bloody love London AND Penge as much as the little rural village I grew up in fishing down by the river and talking to dragonflies.
But now for something classy. A classic rive-droite with befitting elegance, notes of toast, ripe red and black fruit and a hint of coffee on the nose, matched well with spices on the tits. It’s full-bodied with a firm structure a fine arse and a lingering finish just like your mum. Knock me out.
Filth. That was lush. I know it’s school dinners but that’s exactly what I wanted but the quiche was great. Slightly sweet with the pumpkin and onions, a sharp tang from the pesto, and a big hug from the cheese bringing it all together. GF pastry too. Looks shit but has depth just like meself. 🖕
