You and me both, Claude, you and me fucking both.
You and me both, Claude, you and me fucking both.
Where were that lot in your Octobers, your Novembers, the dog days of early Jan? A bunch of absolute - and I can’t stress this though - fucking cowards.
Gonna post this every sunny afternoon until there’s enough room outside The French House for me to guzzle a preposterously large Breton Cider.
When it’s the first day of sunshine in London, outside any pub, on literally any available inch of pavement:
Lamar wants to have children with his girlfriend. The problem? He needs to get a fucking grip.
Niles: Frasier, come quickly. My antiques scout has just found a quill which once belonged to Jean Jacques Rousseau-
Frasier: Niles, let me stop you there. The Bored Ape Yacht Club is a collection of 10,000 Bored Ape NFTs, unique digital collectibles living on the Ethereum blockchain.
“I have showed Mr Trump and Mr Netanyahu some of your hottest Bluesky posts.”
[me, a Venetian slave oarsman rowing blindly towards a war galley full of Ottoman corsairs at the Battle of Lepanto] “I really should buy crypto”
The sense of superiority I feel when I read “Dogecoin”, and I know the doges were the rulers of medieval and early-modern Venice, quickly evaporates when I remember that I didn’t invest in it and that I will always be a poor and wretched fucking peasant.
Nature is healing. Britain is back. We are so goddamn back.
But Arsenal fans will still tell you Arteta is better.
We laugh at Stath Lets Flats for being hopeless but, two years ago, a real life lettings agent turned up to my viewing and said “Sorry, I’ve forgotten the keys”, then pointed up at the council block from the road and asked, “So, what do you reckon, yes or no?”
He didn’t like a series of comic misunderstandings
and I was Frasier and Niles Crane hosting a fucking elegant black-tie soirée.
I bet he does, the dirty old bollocks.
Sexy Channel 4 cancelling Frasier reruns
This is slightly disingenuous, because shortly before I did ring my Nanna (96).
what a loser
Ladies, ladies, please, one at a time!
the Labubourgeoisie
Probably should have spent more time looking for a wife and kids, not a Napoli 2001-02 black away kit with sky-blue piping.
No, YOU get a girlfriend!!
In a similar vein: when I was doing an improv show at the Fringe, my scene partner kept calling my character not “a ponce” but “a nonce”, thinking they meant the same thing. I’ll be honest, it didn’t help the vibe in the audience.
Literally the only thing this man cannot buy is to be funny.
I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I’d rather chew through my fucking fuse box than live like this.
This pub’s a bit measly with the tapas.
I’m writing a drama about a maverick detective, but the twist is that he has a really settled home life. Two cars at home. No mortgage. Four kids, all privately educated (until sixth form at least). Two holidays last year. Could have had an affair, but decided against. He’s absolutely crushing it.
Honest to God I thought this was Ed Miliband.
I need to spend less time in hospital, these posts are deranged.
Just got out of hospital.
I said, “Just one jab for me, Doctor. I’m driving...driving you out for a steak dinner!” Two nurses simultaneously swooned. Crowd went wild. The doc almost wet herself with glee. I high-fived a retired admiral and swung out the window on a chandelier.
Honestly, goosebumps
Wow, ok. We were all huge fans of his before, but surely this is too much.
😉