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People who put fuel into their car at a petrol station, go into pay, and decide that it is a perfectly appropriate time to do their big shop, should be put to death.

Ditto pensioners who drive their immaculate 25 year old Rover with 5000 miles on the clock to the supermarket to buy a packet of biscuits, a racist tabloid newspaper and three slices of tongue and then hold up an entire queue whilst talking to the cashier or struggling with an automated checkout on a Saturday morning when they have the entire week to run their errands.
 
Finding out that certain pop stars/musicians you enjoy(ed) are actually ****ers (at best) and/or possible sex offenders (at worst). :Thumbs down:
 
The missus was out last night, and sent me an image of Tony Hart's sidekick Morph with the line 'now I know why Morph is coming back' as Morph had a very large plasticine valentine's love sausage stuck in place.

This morning, MK Jnr got ahold of my phone and I got the question "Daddy, what's this....."

:Facepalm::Facepalm:

Note to self, delete racy photos!
 
Me too but it was a speculative application and it turns out they already have a Pope.

Pope Cyril. You'd get my vote.

Though they carry you in a bottomless chair with no undies on to make sure you're not a woman you know. Almost a #metoo moment.
 
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