I'd keep Jones on the bench (which I believe is the plan). Lindelöf/Smalling/Rojo has worked really well.
By Laboured Go To PostPart of me wants us to just put out the most unreasonably tall team possible and Allardyce it.Get the lats Axel and Mctominay in and work for corners
By Laboured Go To PostPart of me wants us to just put out the most unreasonably tall team possible and Allardyce it.The Williams/Fellaini combo will be a strong, dark, force on Sunday.
By Punished Go To PostFellas, what are yiz buying yer ma for Christmas?Perfume
By Punished Go To PostFellas, what are yiz buying yer ma for Christmas?
Books.
By Slizz Go To PostPerfume
I already did this for her birthday a month ago, and am now out of ideas.
By Punished Go To PostFellas, what are yiz buying yer ma for Christmas?Company
The sound of the choir hit large. A hundred voices sang Silent Night larger. The tone. The tenor. It floated from Shoreditch Church nave into the vestibule. It was groovy and yuletide-rich. It was orchestral. It pumped senses and sent the world majestic. It had Santa Claus in town and the ages continuing. It was people rejoicing. It was possibility.
Possibilities.
Possibilities.
Detective Frederick Street loves his son Elvis: Elvis detests his dad: each wants to shake the other down over a bent cocaine deal involving porn impresario, Wade Long, and Shoreditch spiv, James Maroon.
Fuck
Me
Wade threw a beam. His smile lit the joint. He was accompanied by a young lady. Of a certain type. He looked like he was having the kind of weekend he was having.
“Howdy pardner,” Frederick said to Wade. Wade switched garb. He was goosed from various narcotics. He clad cowboy hat, black silk shirt, tight denims and shit-kicker boots. He walked to the bar. He looked faintly ridiculous.
“Howdy,” said Wade. His squeeze was done to the nines. Uber-trashy. She ran crimson lipstick, bottle blond tresses. She was enhanced everywhere and wore it well. She was young.
“Frederick, this is Felicity. Felicity ChicFox.”
Frederick waved them to the seats by his. Wade placed his stetson on the bar. Felicity extended a hand of false and manicured nails.
Frederick said, “Very nice to meet you Felicity. Don’t think I’ve had the pleasure-”
Felicity deep-throated a laugh. “If you’ve seen All The Pussies In The World And Mine you have.” She paused. “You have seen it?”
Frederick winked at her. At Wade. “At some point, surely. Of course. Wade, good, no grand to see you.”
Wade said. “How was earlier?”
Frederick laughed. “Like a dream. A hilarious post-show show too. That feed of yours. Big thanks. Felicity, what’s your poison darling?”
This bird. This chic. That fucking name. She vibed porno tart. A Wade protégé. Get the round in and go and hit the Gents. Refresh les passages de las nasal.
“Pina Colada, please.” Felicity locked eyes with Frederick. That’s good. That’s a fine start.
She drew looks from a group further along the bar. Wade did too. That hardly surprised. Considering today’s ridiculous fucking get-up.
Frederick shot the group a look that shut them up. His suit jarred. It vibed out of place. It vibed anti-hip Hoxton.
“Pina Colada it is sweetie. Wade?”
“The usual.”
Frederick ordered another ale, Wade’s Black Russian, Felicity’s drink, and headed for the Gents. He stood in the urinals at the mirror. He spooned showbiz up both nostrils. It felt like alpine air. It hit his system near-instant. The pisser went Walt Disney. He Daffy the fuck Ducked. Senses spasticed, colours optimumed. He felt it. He felt it all. He cognated. There was meaning in everything. Leaving the pisser felt like a victory. He grooved on the ridiculousness of it feeling like this.
But - IT FELT TREMENDOUS.
He made the bar. The place sparkled. He sparkled. Felicity fuckchick or whatever her name was sparkled. Even fucking Wade sparkled in that stupendously ridiculous get-up.
Wade clocked him. “You’ve got some of that platinum? Thought it was done.”
“That stuff is never gone. You know that.”
“Come on then, saddle me up!”
Frederick pulled the bag and palmed it Wade and winked at Felicity.
“Thanks,” Wade said, and headed for the Gents. Frederick was ready to move on Felicity. He felt tremendous. His eyes were ridiculous. Out of control. He couldn’t stop scoping those enhanced tits. That backend. Her dyed-blond barnet.
Felicity said, “You seem a platinum type of man.” It was corny. It was cheesy. He didn’t give a fuck.
“Platinum plated baby,” he said. That was cheese and the gang. Cheeseburgers r-us. He rode spritzes. He fritzed. He rodolexed shit. Arrests he made. Deals he ripped off. The patter, the chat, the bantz. His general fucking everyday modus operandi. It orgied self-love. Self-aggrandisement. Self-well-being. It made him feel tickety-boo. Who the fuck said selfishness was selfish?
The selfish fuck.
He was ready to move on Felicity ChickFuck. But. Fucking Wade. Here he came. Too soon. Bowling out of the Gents. That fucker was knee-deep in porno clunge everyday of his life. He should step the fuck away from this portion.
Wade said, “Fresh drinks it is.” Wade fritzed coke-boost. His grin went manic. It disfigured his features. “That P is tremendous. Never fails to hit the spot.” Wade ordered up. Wade paid. Wade handed Felicity her pina colada, Frederick’s pint, and slurped his Black Russian.
Frederick rode irritation jags. They gripped. They took-over. “You’re welcome to your drink Wade. You know that. And you’re welcome to snarf as much platinum as you can fit up your wide and elongated nostrils. You know that. We have certainly done some nights and tarts on that stuff – pardon me won’t you Felicity?”
She nodded, she smiled, she shrugged.
“But Jesus Wade you are not welcome to do that prime shite then rush back just as I am getting to know Felicity. I know you know what I mean.”
Wade grinned – it didn’t help Frederick’s mood. Wade said, “Don't mind me. Felicity’s been dying to meet you. I’ve told her all about you. All about Frederick Street, high-flying Met detective. A man connected in high places.”
Frederick felt P-jags. A dip in the constitution. In the way he felt about everything. He said, “I hope you haven’t told Felicity everything Wade.”
Wade chuckled. He hit up on the P-ride. Frederick chugged down. The cowboy attempted to rule the roost. In his boozer. It wasn’t particularly clever. At all. Not when this batch of sniff could go the other way. Was going the other way. Was performing a U-turn of seismic proportions. The P was the P. It meant superstar highs. It meant plunges into irate territory. And a circumstance like this. Being roosted by some fucker who needed treading on. The gnawing needed a release. That chainsaw urge to do something to someone. It was powerful. Potent. It ruled.
Alternative: stick a smile on, make the Gents, do more P. Return like the guns of navarone. Sink more ale. And hope this ire over a porno tart would evaporate. An ire caused by Wade Long in his micky mouse Stetson.
Go for it. “Wade, the P please.” Wade palmed it him. He was lost in oblivion. Ignorance was bliss the thicko. Frederick slurped more ale and caught another notion.
He said, “Felicity, do you fancy some of the highest grade blow you will ever have had in your youthful existence?”
Don’t wait for the reply. No need. Walk to the gents and hear her heels rattle across the Setless floor. Turn and thumbs-up Wade, who’s guffawing at the bar. That was Wade’s strength. He never got ruffled. Unlike Lee, who panicked goon-style.
“Howdy pardner,” Frederick said to Wade. Wade switched garb. He was goosed from various narcotics. He clad cowboy hat, black silk shirt, tight denims and shit-kicker boots. He walked to the bar. He looked faintly ridiculous.
“Howdy,” said Wade. His squeeze was done to the nines. Uber-trashy. She ran crimson lipstick, bottle blond tresses. She was enhanced everywhere and wore it well. She was young.
“Frederick, this is Felicity. Felicity ChicFox.”
Frederick waved them to the seats by his. Wade placed his stetson on the bar. Felicity extended a hand of false and manicured nails.
Frederick said, “Very nice to meet you Felicity. Don’t think I’ve had the pleasure-”
Felicity deep-throated a laugh. “If you’ve seen All The Pussies In The World And Mine you have.” She paused. “You have seen it?”
Frederick winked at her. At Wade. “At some point, surely. Of course. Wade, good, no grand to see you.”
Wade said. “How was earlier?”
Frederick laughed. “Like a dream. A hilarious post-show show too. That feed of yours. Big thanks. Felicity, what’s your poison darling?”
This bird. This chic. That fucking name. She vibed porno tart. A Wade protégé. Get the round in and go and hit the Gents. Refresh les passages de las nasal.
“Pina Colada, please.” Felicity locked eyes with Frederick. That’s good. That’s a fine start.
She drew looks from a group further along the bar. Wade did too. That hardly surprised. Considering today’s ridiculous fucking get-up.
Frederick shot the group a look that shut them up. His suit jarred. It vibed out of place. It vibed anti-hip Hoxton.
“Pina Colada it is sweetie. Wade?”
“The usual.”
Frederick ordered another ale, Wade’s Black Russian, Felicity’s drink, and headed for the Gents. He stood in the urinals at the mirror. He spooned showbiz up both nostrils. It felt like alpine air. It hit his system near-instant. The pisser went Walt Disney. He Daffy the fuck Ducked. Senses spasticed, colours optimumed. He felt it. He felt it all. He cognated. There was meaning in everything. Leaving the pisser felt like a victory. He grooved on the ridiculousness of it feeling like this.
But - IT FELT TREMENDOUS.
He made the bar. The place sparkled. He sparkled. Felicity fuckchick or whatever her name was sparkled. Even fucking Wade sparkled in that stupendously ridiculous get-up.
Wade clocked him. “You’ve got some of that platinum? Thought it was done.”
“That stuff is never gone. You know that.”
“Come on then, saddle me up!”
Frederick pulled the bag and palmed it Wade and winked at Felicity.
“Thanks,” Wade said, and headed for the Gents. Frederick was ready to move on Felicity. He felt tremendous. His eyes were ridiculous. Out of control. He couldn’t stop scoping those enhanced tits. That backend. Her dyed-blond barnet.
Felicity said, “You seem a platinum type of man.” It was corny. It was cheesy. He didn’t give a fuck.
“Platinum plated baby,” he said. That was cheese and the gang. Cheeseburgers r-us. He rode spritzes. He fritzed. He rodolexed shit. Arrests he made. Deals he ripped off. The patter, the chat, the bantz. His general fucking everyday modus operandi. It orgied self-love. Self-aggrandisement. Self-well-being. It made him feel tickety-boo. Who the fuck said selfishness was selfish?
The selfish fuck.
He was ready to move on Felicity ChickFuck. But. Fucking Wade. Here he came. Too soon. Bowling out of the Gents. That fucker was knee-deep in porno clunge everyday of his life. He should step the fuck away from this portion.
Wade said, “Fresh drinks it is.” Wade fritzed coke-boost. His grin went manic. It disfigured his features. “That P is tremendous. Never fails to hit the spot.” Wade ordered up. Wade paid. Wade handed Felicity her pina colada, Frederick’s pint, and slurped his Black Russian.
Frederick rode irritation jags. They gripped. They took-over. “You’re welcome to your drink Wade. You know that. And you’re welcome to snarf as much platinum as you can fit up your wide and elongated nostrils. You know that. We have certainly done some nights and tarts on that stuff – pardon me won’t you Felicity?”
She nodded, she smiled, she shrugged.
“But Jesus Wade you are not welcome to do that prime shite then rush back just as I am getting to know Felicity. I know you know what I mean.”
Wade grinned – it didn’t help Frederick’s mood. Wade said, “Don't mind me. Felicity’s been dying to meet you. I’ve told her all about you. All about Frederick Street, high-flying Met detective. A man connected in high places.”
Frederick felt P-jags. A dip in the constitution. In the way he felt about everything. He said, “I hope you haven’t told Felicity everything Wade.”
Wade chuckled. He hit up on the P-ride. Frederick chugged down. The cowboy attempted to rule the roost. In his boozer. It wasn’t particularly clever. At all. Not when this batch of sniff could go the other way. Was going the other way. Was performing a U-turn of seismic proportions. The P was the P. It meant superstar highs. It meant plunges into irate territory. And a circumstance like this. Being roosted by some fucker who needed treading on. The gnawing needed a release. That chainsaw urge to do something to someone. It was powerful. Potent. It ruled.
Alternative: stick a smile on, make the Gents, do more P. Return like the guns of navarone. Sink more ale. And hope this ire over a porno tart would evaporate. An ire caused by Wade Long in his micky mouse Stetson.
Go for it. “Wade, the P please.” Wade palmed it him. He was lost in oblivion. Ignorance was bliss the thicko. Frederick slurped more ale and caught another notion.
He said, “Felicity, do you fancy some of the highest grade blow you will ever have had in your youthful existence?”
Don’t wait for the reply. No need. Walk to the gents and hear her heels rattle across the Setless floor. Turn and thumbs-up Wade, who’s guffawing at the bar. That was Wade’s strength. He never got ruffled. Unlike Lee, who panicked goon-style.
this will not stop until jamie pleasure jackson learns now to use fronted adverbials with more regularity
By n8 dogg Go To Posthttps://unbound.com/books/night-time-cool/This is way too sophisticated for me, have to pass.
Jamie paradise lads
By n8 dogg Go To PostThe lad doesn't know how to punctuate.
Cunt wrote these books years ago and still hasn't found a publisher. You wonder why.
When it came - a moment of actual, real-life magic: two years ago, on Xmas Eve, I went to a carol service in my village, heard the singing, this sensation coursed through me, and I thought yes, set the next novel at Xmas time and yes, make it the story of a caper-happy, crooked-with-a-grin Met Police detective and his son: instantly I had the vision for the story and the fucker flowed out of me like something from a literary cliche.
The way he makes the second 'yes' seem like it came so organically from the first. I'm dying.
The way he makes the second 'yes' seem like it came so organically from the first. I'm dying.
By Laboured Go To PostHow did you get yourself into this mess
oh no
By Baconsaurus Go To PostHow did you get yourself into this mess
I never asked for this
By Laboured Go To Postlooool
oh no
By Punished Go To PostFellas, what are yiz buying yer ma for Christmas?a plane ticket to Portugal.
By Mushroom Go To Posta plane ticket to Portugal.
Just make sure she knows of the dangers of going there, as a female.
A reminder for people who are thinking of watching the Game Awards tonight:
Watching on Steam gives you a chance to win free games.
Watching on Steam gives you a chance to win free games.
I'm not poor m8.
Honestly tho it's way past my bed time. Will watch the trailers tomorrow since the awards bit is for people who like to call themselves "gamers".
Honestly tho it's way past my bed time. Will watch the trailers tomorrow since the awards bit is for people who like to call themselves "gamers".
By Frustrated_me Go To PostRonaldo wins his 5th, what a fucking legend.I didn't know winning the Ballon makes you immune to the law.
Have the usual Barca suspects here derailed into calling him a tax evader and rapist yet? Its not enough they have Messi, that's not good enough, others must not exist in order for them to win.
For the record though I love Cristiano. The fact he did all that is a pain in my heart, but he really is one of the greatest footballers ever.
Shame he came at The Age Of Messi.
By FlutterPuffs Go To PostA reminder for people who are thinking of watching the Game Awards tonight:Bollocks to this. Just give me details in the afternoon. My drunken ass is off to bed.
Watching on Steam gives you a chance to win free games.
By Punished Go To PostFellas, what are yiz buying yer ma for Christmas?
A box of fancy olive oils
By Scum Go To PostBollocks to this. Just give me details in the afternoon. My drunken ass is off to bed.The pub I was in last night was serving hot port.
I've a new favourite drink lads.
▬▬▬.◙.▬▬▬
═▂▄▄▓▄▄▂
◢◤█▀▀████▄▄▄▄◢◤
█▄ █ █▄███▀▀▀▀▀▀▀╬
◥█████◤
══╩══╩══
╬═╬
╬═╬......
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬☻/FUCK YA'LL
╬═╬/▌
╬═╬/ \
═▂▄▄▓▄▄▂
◢◤█▀▀████▄▄▄▄◢◤
█▄ █ █▄███▀▀▀▀▀▀▀╬
◥█████◤
══╩══╩══
╬═╬
╬═╬......
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬
╬═╬☻/FUCK YA'LL
╬═╬/▌
╬═╬/ \
By Cleff Go To PostThe pub I was in last night was serving hot port.Port is excellent with nice cheeses. Just have them wheel the cart over to the table. So good.
I've a new favourite drink lads.
Our family quit gifts a few years back, feels nice not having to worry about it.
But I understand the need if there's kids involved.
I put all my stock on the edibles these days.
But I understand the need if there's kids involved.
I put all my stock on the edibles these days.
I get tired of the Christmas shopping scramble but I could never do away with gifts, especially for my grandmothers.
Bought a HP Spectre x360 i7 16GB for my mum and a few other things for the cousins, aunts and uncles. Still need to buy my Dad something, was thinking buying a new Yamaha 4K Receiver to replace his old receiver.
hitch i will fucking shit on your doorstep mate
if not i only live half a mile from that lad who people think shat at the SoL, I'll slip him a fiver to do it.
if not i only live half a mile from that lad who people think shat at the SoL, I'll slip him a fiver to do it.