peds

Nice tree, real shame. I'd be pissed. As others have said, back to the boundary is fine and legal, despite what the tree looks like. The real question is about your long-term future relationship with the neighbour, which will depend on what you do about it...

I had to cut a few metres off an 11.5mm semi-static... still a good few years left in it... so I might try bending a skinny scrap of rebar I've got hanging about... and see if I can come up with anything worthwhile.

Replacement rate only, an heir and a spare, and the most reasonable thing I've ever seen Gareth type by a country mile. Still not sure how many other non-existent babies he'd trade either of his own kids for.

Sigh. No, we don't. Look, Gareth, I really think you need to consider just hushing up for a bit, if you can't keep it on topic. You're not bringing anything to the table here. How about you? Married, kids? How many non-existent but potentially-viable children would you trade your daughter's life for?

I believe the medical term is "jiggled about a bit too much", and the mechanism by which it occurs is the fact that they are there, dangling, by a pair of very thin threads. I like how you are trying to divert from your abhorrent opinion about women's lives being worthless by making small talk about ballsacks. I hesitate to ask, crossing my fingers that the answer is no, for their sake... but... are you married, do you have children?

This statement right here is quite possibly the most repulsive thing I've ever read on this site, and it's a strong field to be playing against. "F*ck your daughter, f*ck your wife, f*ck your mother, all of these wombs are expendable and replaceable, and we've got loads more where that came from." That's what you just said. Frankly, you aught to be ashamed of yourself, but that won't happen because as we have observed time and time again, you are incapable of shame, empathy, or remorse. Jesus H F*cking Christ, you people. To answer your second question, wear a jockstrap or other supportive undergarments, especially when doing anything active like sports or manual labour 👍

First frost here too! As is traditional at this stage, I failed to bring the lemon trees in, but I think they like a bit of tough love. Pricing a job, then digging a hole outside my house to add a goose-neck gully.

Makes me so ****************ing angry, having walked around the Sanctuary Wood trenches and the incredible tiny museum next to it once every year for about a decade (plus the Last Post at the Menin Gate and the museum at the ghost of the Cloth Hall, plus whatever cemetaries would be on the itinerary that year, one British, one German) that there is still the spectre of war in Europe. Outrageous. Hill 62 Sanctuary Wood Museum WWW.HISTORYHIT.COM The Hill 62 Sanctuary Wood Museum near Ypres in Belgium contains an impressive partially restored British...

They are an absolute godsend, except when used to incriminate normally law-abiding citizens such as yourself who just suffer from a temporary lapse in judgement. Sometimes, it just isn't fair!

Oh I know, they are a no-brainer these days, every vehicle should have one. I say that, but I've been saying it for a few years now and my two private vehicles still don't have one, and I'm asking this evening specifically for our mountain rescue vans, but I guess I could just get 4 at the same time and fix my terminal no-brainering. What do people have? Would Nextbase do?

He's actually saying the opposite of that, Gareth. For a lot of people, November 11th is the only time of the year when they think about just how shitty war is, and they ignore it again until next year. My folks, when still teachers, ran trips for teenagers to Ypres every year. Should be a mandatory part of the curriculum.

What's the best dashcam about at the moment chaps? I need two.

Have you not finished your beans yet? Come on, get a move on, they'll be growing again before long.

Good morning, everyone. Doug, that is certainly... a story to read to put things into perspective. Science fair at the polytechnic today, and once again I am tasked with the challenge of explaining the process of rescuing people from a cliff, to children, with no cliff present, on a horizontal surface. I think I'll put Derek on the other side of the room with a bowl of sweets, and instruct the children to pull him over with a rope to grab some... unsuccessfully... then set up a 3-1 to give them the edge, assuming we've got a pillar or something else available to use as an anchor. Have a good day, all.

Sounds perfect!

Bovril is marmite made from cows, whereas marmite is yeast that's eaten itself, a byproduct of brewing beer.

Chilli marmite, eh? Good shout. Would you consider... chilli bovril?

I wouldn't say no, but it depends what's available when I drive the Passat into the sea really. Don't see many of them around here, anyway. Need a bit more smoke coming out the back of the VW before I start any real searching.

Sorry, darling, once again... you've lost me. What do you want me to do?

Love the 3 front seats in my T5, wish it was more common. Hoping to get a pickup when our Passat dies, king cab definitely seems to be the way forward... but again, if it could be 3 up front in comfort and anyone spare squeezed into the back... that'd be perfect.

Jesus, that's a spicy enough event to be dealing with, glad you got sorted nice and quick. I drop the occasional pint for others to enjoy, but I wouldn't want to be losing anything like that amount under duress. Good thing it wasn't at sea... "Sometimes that shark he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark is he’s got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn’t seem to be livin’… until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then… ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin’. The ocean turns red, in spite of all the poundin’ and the hollerin’ they all come in and… they rip you to pieces."

Haha, wow. Lots to unpack, but I think we'll keep it brief to be honest. Just earlier today, chatting with our course provider about fun things like coagulapathy and periorbital ecchymosis and green whistles, I couldn't help but think good golly gosh, I'm glad I lead a more sheltered life than this man. Nice fella, he delivers all of our medical CPD because you name it, pick a body part and stick a hole in it, he's patched it up at some point or another. From flying out into international waters so he becomes legal to slice open some poor guy's scrotum and untangle his torsioned testicles (survived), to amputating another lad's arm underwater in high seas as it was wrapped around the trawler's propeller shaft (survived), to swimming around grabbing chunks of the recently-exploded Mountbatten and popping them in a mesh bag off Mulllaghmore Head (did not survive), this fella lives an interesting life, and has seen and prevented more death than anyone else I've ever shared a room with. Coming out of the room from that conversation, to this arbitrary and non-sensical drivel, your comment just strikes a fairly funny cord with me today. I'm not going to try and justify my relatively sheltered existence, I'm not even going to mention the various metrics by which I think you'd go about measuring it, certainly not to you... because what's the point? You're an angry little man, and you have my pity.

European farmed, or foraged wild snails are fine, and delicious.