PhobosAnomaly

The first major story where I thought “oh noes” was the Canary Wharf bombing in 1996ish. It was the first time I’d ever seen a “we interrupt this broadcast…” moment and it was so out of the ordinary that it sticks in my mind.

9/11 was a wild ride too. Getting home from school and my old man - who never watched the news - had Sky News on. At that point, the replays seemed… incredible, in the most literal sense of the word.

many

That line break is unfortunate.

I’ve had many an “ass apocalypse” in slow time after a dodgy kebab. They were anything but boring, however.

Mint.

On an unrelated note, my old girl used to take me to a local cafe for a slice of toast most mornings - there were two cabinets there.

My first memory of gaming as a three, maybe four year old was Pac Land, 10p a pop, absolute banger of a game - even if the controls were seriously dodgy.

Next to it was Street Fighter II - a premium cab at a whole 20p a credit.

A group of teenagers were playing it one morning, and I popped my 20p in, and I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. This older lad absolutely demolished me, like never even gave a poor kid a chance. Fair play, I learned a lot about going up against skilled opponents that day!

Outstanding. It’s like picking stuff like November Rain and Free Bird to make the most of your money.

In a similar vein, one of my old haunts had a jukey, but the button under the bar to skip tracks was fucked. So, we’d get towards the end of our drinks, put two quid in the jukey, pick two decent songs to give us six or seven minutes to finish our drinks, then queue up a load of Christmas songs… in June.

We’d drink up, fuck off, and sit smugly in the next pub knowing there was half hour of Mariah Carey & co. blaring out at the previous pub which couldn’t be skipped. Good times.

have you tried getting someone else to do it?

Chuck it in the oven for ten minutes, no drama at all.

Then pre-book the following day off work with a dodgy stomach.

I’m not sure if this is a razor sharp witty comment, or if it’s gone so far over your head that it nearly put a hole in the International Space Station.

In the end, “this” doesn’t even matter

I vote (illegally) for MetalJesusRocks.

The Star is somewhere between The Sun (a Rupert Murdoch spec tabloid rag with a “publish first, verify sources later” approach) and The Sport (contrary to its name, is less about the development and performance of elite ball games, and more about substituting the journalism with as much softcore pornography as possible).

Admittedly, the Star is highly entertaining - like the “nottheonion” comm in print form, with an approach more like a magazine than a newspaper. It’s usually a fraction cheaper than most of the major tabloids too.

“hey look, the news has gotten around, the head of HR and my line manager want to see my elephant impression too!”

Postcrete is the best invention since the barbeque tongs.

Soft to rock solid in next to no time at all… giggity.

I’m loathed to use “every time”, but I largely agree. I can’t help but think that when a post starts with “so,” - it contains a horribly skewed summarisation that contains cherry picked points, wrapped up in a neat soundbite.

I was talking to my primary-school age kids about their teachers, and one of them says their next teacher will be Mr Smith.

“He’s old,” they said, “he must be at least fifty”.

I said “nah man. Mr Smith is probably only a few years older than me, early forties I reckon”.

They had me with “no he’s like really old. He reads a newspaper”

Most important question for your future planning for the instance:

Would you rather stub your toe every day for a year, or get kicked in the chest once by a horse?