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I see your old man with cut head, phil, and raise you one excitable chap without trousers who believes that a very large hen is going to predict the lottery numbers by ruffling it's plumage for him.
I used to be a buttering one slice only guy, till I tried both and saw the light.
My lunch was eventful in that I used a new piri piri sauce on my chicken wrap which resulted in me eating what felt like lava. I can handle spicy food pretty freaking well but this was ridiculous. Mouth was on fire for 30 minutes afterwards. Will add a teeny bit less tomorrow.
i've got old man blood on my smart jeans b'mitch, aint no psychic chicken going to beat that dagnabbit!
*struggles to hear dubstep fm podcast over schizophrenic trying to start a fight with his own voices next door*
You'll be sorry when them numbers come up phil - PLUMAGE PLUMAGE PLUMAGE !!!
I had a Lebanese mezze lunch with an Egyptian called Mohammed who had a massive black beard, bigger than Ed Oxley's. Mohammed kindly gave me a CD with quotations from the Koran, which I do intend to play one day out of interest.