Owt happened?
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So, the last 18 days
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So, the last 18 days
Yeah.
Yesterday I was getting rid of my beard with a beard trimmer, when it broke half way through. I've still got half a beard.
At some point I'm going to have to leave the house, and get some razors or something. But I don't want to. As I still have half a beard.
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So, the last 18 days
I met a Doctor Who, at last. After thirty years of near misses, including queueing for three hours at Longleat in 1983 only to arrive at the autograph table in the five minute gap between the departure of Peter Davison and the arrival of Jon Pertwee, and the time that almost drove me to divorce when m'lovely wife chanced across Tom Baker in the backstreets of Soho, I finally met a Doctor Who.
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So, the last 18 days
GO, did you deliberately leave the country to escape all the Olympics hype?
I've never actually met a Dr Who, but I did stand in a queue to get into the Hackney Empire behind Sylvester McCoy (and this was when he was actually playing the Doctor).
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So, the last 18 days
When I found myself, Clive. I've peeled back the layers and exposed the inner me. I've stripped myself bare and laid myself before you ('you' collectively, that is, not just you, Clive). And I haven't been to paradise to do it, either. Though I did visit Poole Harbour, which was was really nice.
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So, the last 18 days
You needn't worry, fifepride, when it comes to an emergency situation, there's no man better than me to sort it out. Except possibly Superman, or in water based emergencies, a life-guard. But partially finished facial grooming emergencies? Who you gonna call?
I had to head off to Sydenham, as you do, earlier, which mean leaving the house. I couldn't very well go with half a beard, could I? No way, Pedro. So I managed to fix the fucking thing using tape. Loads and loads of tape. It held together long enough to trim my facial furniture down to a regular level. Job done.
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So, the last 18 days
Lifeguards? Don't give me fucking lifeguards. My son cracked his head on the concrete last week after he tripped, trying to negotiate the railings at Branksome Chine. Four years old he is, and as we ran to his aid (doing that funny floppy-kneed run you have to do across sand, even though we were running for a really serious reason), he lay screaming on the floor practically at the feet of the lifeguards, who sat there with an impassive 'sorry mate, he's not in the water, not much we can do there' expression on their fucking deckchair-loving faces.
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So, the last 18 days
Assuming you mean Sellotape type stuff, you should've used the tape to stick onto your facial hair, and pull it off...
Actually, I love the Olympics and always have ever since I watched the Tokyo ones on telly back in '64. Anyone else remember the music from that one?
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So, the last 18 days
I turned on them in the end. Confronted them, belligerently. Said to them, "is there any chance one of you could get some ice for the fucking great lump my son is now sporting on his head? Perhaps you could get it from the freezer you've got in there, the one you keep pulling Soleros from?" And after a minor panic, they did give me some ice. In a surgical glove.
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So, the last 18 days
Three plane incidents, one resulting in mass fatalities, sadly.
Another involving Ryanair, and from what Pen Hadow said, the passengers were left to rot after the plce made an emergency landing at Limoges without so much as a by your leave from Michael O'Leary's merry elves.
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