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Tom Nash
No sausages left in this van overnight.
This factor-fuck-off sun lotion is making my skin bad. I shall commiserate with my third icecream of the day... What?
A lad started for Palace last night who was born the year I joined secondary school... I'm never gonna play professional football, am I?
Is as hilarious as it is terrifying.
Yep, happens that often.
The missus' last day at current job. My last day picking her up from work... Gonna miss watching the old dears who forget where they parked.
People still do the 'send email bang on 5pm then fuck off pronto' trick, eh? Bless.
11 unique flows in Hip Hop and no Pharoahe Monche???? Booooooooooooo, HHDX…
A smartphone, a fuckton of DVDs & an X-Box 360 and all Music Magpie give that fella is a tonne? Nooooope.
Now your dull Facebook friends can bore you to death with their crap old photos with 'Timehop'. Yaay.
Made that Blue Dragon lemon chicken. It was a fucking ordeal. Never again.
This is why I don't do jokes (intentionally) on here... I need ice cream.
Something about a horse on horse... I don't know, it's hot.
So once this Python event is done with, can we stop pretending the dead parrot sketch is funny?
Someone wrote that MadBid advert. Someone else signed off on it. These are facts.
Another tiny person meets tiny dog pupdate
Just to clarify... With an 'e': to make lighter. Without an 'e': electrical discharge produced by a thunderstorm.
Retweeted by Tom Nash
I just wish someone from London would tweet a picture of the sky.
Retweeted by Tom Nash
Graham cools off pupdate
Even doing nothing has been an effort today.
Think i've cracked this lolling about doing fuck all...