You're thinking about her arsehole right?
I have folloerd best advice, hot oven and plenty of salt first alf hour. but im concerned it wont be right. I dont really care about crackling, I am happy with the rest, Nut I'm a bit worried is all, it wont be just so.
You see how it goes, it could go this way or that...
I'm sick to the stomach, and chewing my fingernails down to the quick, as there is so much misinformation and half truths being pedalled here.
I want to know the absolute truth, not bullshit conspiracy theories, not hearsay from social media etc.
What do the real genuine 100% Chinese people think about potatoes?
I'm hoping the Chinese people can provide some input, perhaps whether they prefer desiree or sebago, who knows maybe they prefer kipfler. I think they seem too classy to eat just boring old pontiacs, they probably export them or use them for cattle feed.
Yes, they always win the rugby, they play it very well.
But going back in time, Australia was colonised by English convicts, many of whom were Irish political troublemakers. History has shown they had a point.
New Zealand was colonised by Scottish immigrants some time later. They had similar issues colonising, but it was a singular nation with a common language, and so they had an agreement with the native ppulation in 1850 or something.
This mostly explains the peculiar accent New Zealanders have, and why the higher social levels of New Zealand society have an English accent rather than the comedic fush end chups accent.
But there has been a lot of mixing and matching along the way, folks from Pacific nations etc,. bringing their own variations and adding to the mix.
One only has to watch an episode or two of Motorway patrol to see the English accent is still something to aspire to in this impoverished Pacific nation. All the police officers that couldn't really cur it back home in England, migrted to New Zealand to book halfwits for trivial things. I think majority of folks migrating from a big country to a small one would have their reasons, but generally not admit them. You're doing so well in England you migrate to New Zealand, oh give me a break...
Fortunately, our migration laws are more strict now New Zealand is no longer part of NSW, and so it is no longer a stepping stone.. Hopefully the grubs will realise this and hopefully our laws are tightened up even more.
We are sending a record number of bikies, paedophiles, and other New Zealand lowlifes back to where they belong, and hopefully we can increase the numbers and get rid of the scum.
So, we all have experienced that situation, where you're lying in bed thinking about this and that. World politics, pretty girls, our workplaces... And so it goes.
And so a man gets to thinking, I'm not exactly hungry right now but at the same time I wouldnt mind something to eat. Like not a huge meal, and not a chocolate bar either. Various thoughts run by, various things are considered like maybe a bowl of ice cream, some instant noodles, or maybe sardines on toast. Its like a complicated jigsaw puzzle and the pieces dont quite match up.
Like a bolt of lightning when you're out playing golf, it hits you. A blindingly obvious epiphany strikes like a coiled up cobra, as you remember there's a jar of Greek olives in the cupboard. Its a cold night and you dont want to get out of the warm bed to go to the kitchen, but like an unwanted erection the more you think of it the harder it gets.
After some time, you decide to have a few bongs to try and straighten up a bit, but that niggling thought about the olives has taken hold. You put your favourite Enya album on and crank the volume to the maximum, but its still not sufficient to stop your mind racing, thinking about those little black salty treats. You have a few more bongs and pace up and down the hallway, trying to think of reasons why not to hook in, but your inner self is justifying why you should hook in. Sure, everybody else is doing it, you're not harming anybody else, if it was such a major problem olives would be illegal right?
So you roll over languorously, after deciding you will maybe open the olive jar and just sample the liquid. Whats the harm? nobody will notice a tiny bit of liquid missing from a jar of olives, surely. If its a major drama, you can always backfill the jar with cold tea and nobody will be any the wiser.
So you head straight for the kitchen and grab the olive jar firmly. There's a reassuring snap as you crack the seal, and like a bogan leaving a tattoo parlour you realise there's no going back.
You inhale the vapours, thinking of Thessalonika or wherever they make olives, and gingerly taste the fluid. You roll it over your tongue like a hairdresser at a wine tasting, nodding slowly and moaning with pleasure.
So you quickly put the jar back and go back to bed. But you toss and turn and just cant sleep, knowing those greasy little berries are wiggling their backsides at you, more or less.
So you decide enough is enough, and race back to the kitchen with your eyes bulging out like a madman. Throwing all caution to the wind, you clumsily grab the jar in desperation, breaking a few jars of pasta sauce in your haste. Discarding the lid you raise the jar to your lips, the liquid running down both sides of your chin and all over your chest. You know from past experiences how badly olive juices stain the carpet, but you're past the point of caring now.
You chomp those Mediterranean morsels like they're about to be prohibited, eventually you rest against the kitchen bench, totally spent. The jar is empty now, you even used a chopstick to get a few that rolled under the stove, and now all you can think to do is hide the evidence and pretend nothing ever happened.
In today's modern world, a man has little time or inclination for washing up. Especially all the greasy plates and cutlery, and all sorts of congealed muck which can grow fungus.
However, if I get a dishwasher and she cant cook properly or snorts when she laughs, technically I'd be better off doing them myself.
Well done South Africa, you won the whole thing fair and square because we cheated. Even if we bowl you all out in one go, it will be a hollow victory and mean nothing. No doubt, now when we beat Bangladesh as expected, there will also be a question hanging over us.
I think the crowd has behaved very badly, bringing the guys wife's s*xual history up as a sledge is not fair. I think the bowler shouldering the guy was a bit immature and gratuitous. But mucking around with the ball like that destroys the credibility of the whole thing.
We should admit defeat, pack up and go home, Permanently ban all those involved, and start a new team from scratch. Otherwise we have to accept it when others cheat.
We all know about dying wishes, how they must be strictly followed and are sacrosanct. It is against all the laws of nature and various belief systems that such rules are followed to the letter, and so after much soul searching I have decided on my dying wishes, which are as follows- I want my ashes scattered right through the Sorbent toilet paper factory, in particular all the fillings and shards of bone to be spread around the production line with a leaf blower. I'll work out what to do with all the money and houses later.
Ladies, its time to stop sending conflicting messages and sort out the hair pulling issue for once and for all. A lot of guys are uncertain whether it will be appreciated or not. Obviously its not cool to just pull the hair of a stranger on public transport for no reason, but if you have a nice meal of fish and chips, and things are going well, the conversation is flowing, at what point do you like your partner to grab a big handful of your hair and give it a good pull?
With all the cold weather and such, wouldn't it be nice if the Government gave all the pregnant women in Manchester an extra pack of fags with their rations?
Rugby league world champions 2017. So that's the end of it.
pat8lanips Blog (74)