I have financially supported #MSF by for at least 20 years and I will continue to do so as long as I can afford it. This might sound a bit un-Bluesky but Lawyers for Israel can just FOAD.
Alastair
@as-j.bsky.social
🏴🇨🇵 Retired but not retiring. Cycling, Rugby Union, Steely Dan, #RadioParadise, Familial Hypercholesterolemia victim. If it works, do it. When it stops working, stop doing it. Once ate Prince Phillip's Pavlova. #NoCarBiggerThanAGolf #Rejoin
Need to harness the power of Bluesky, so reposts are appreciated. If anyone here, or anyone you know attends Bangor University (the Welsh one) and needs a room for the upcoming year, get in touch. One of my son's housemates has dropped out at the last minute, so their house is one short.
This thought has come to me quite late but if the 500 or so pseudo paramilitaries had, instead, blocked Dover's roads riding bikes, I am pretty sure some knuckle dragger in a pickup would have ploughed into them.
Call me old fashioned but a lot of, often serious, posts on here would benefit from some basic punctuation. The odd comma. Perhaps a semicolon every now and then? I shouldn't have to read a post three times to understand the point they are making.
I'm generally happy to give someone like Burnham a bit of time to get things in order but I'm already pretty impatient for an explanation why an octogenarian holding a small protest placard gets a criminal record but 200 people dressed as paramilitaries blockading Dover can just get the train home.
Hoi, Bluesky uses who don't allow replies. That's not social interaction. It's just demanding a free platform. F**king stop it.
Telegraph, Times etc very slow off the mark with stories about James Orr's background, childhood, CV etc.
Ironic that Nige and his fellow rebels are so keen on meeting at Rules. Must be the ambience, because it certainly ain't the food.
And so it begins. A couple of streets away from me, someone claiming part of the highway as theirs 12 hours a day.
There's a lot going on at the moment but I've still managed to find some time to ponder how anyone can listen to The Lumineers and actually enjoy it.
Back in the UK so we have the cat back. I realise now that I've been misinterpreting the 9 lives thing. It actually means they overstay their welcome, nine-fold.
Got back to the UK yesterday after 6 weeks in France. It took 3 hours for me to want to start taking hostages. 6 mile queues to get 4 lanes of traffic into 4 lanes of Dartford tunnel. Explain that to me. And you think the French are rude? Try Prêt at Bishop Stortford services.
If, like me you can't find anything elegant to say about Dolly's passing, this hits the mark.
Imagine being talented and beautiful and rich and famous and still the most noteworthy thing about you is how good a person you are.
At the French vet. Embarrassing hearing the "expats" not even attempting to speak French. Not even a bonjour. Rude, arrogant, lazy.
Today was a fantastic, good value lunch in a rural French restaurant with just one glass of rosé. Followed by a 90 minute nap. How does this country function?
Never trust the beer the expats bring when you do aperitifs. Worst example this time was Heineken almost 3 years past its BB date.
He's a crook, a fraud, a racist, a liar but over twenty two thousand people braved a heatwave and voted for him. England's problems do not arrive in rubber dinghies.
Oh, the French. I chatted with the very old French neighbours. She asked, "Did you see the eclipse?". " Yes, I said. How about you?". "Non. We have dinner at 7:30"
Considering a ban in instant BBQs. What a relief to see a new Prime Minister who understands the seriousness of the crisis confronting us and isn't afraid to take unpopular decisions.
European Athletics on French TV. Commentators are, shall we say, a tad partisan. And it's fantastic.
European Athletics. Women's 400m hurdles. Since most of these women are about 5ft 11in, why are they still jumping over diddy little hurdles?
So, the moral of the day appears to be that #rodliddle is dead and no body gives a f**k.
Nothing soothes the soul quicker than your dog choosing to leave where they're sleeping to snuggle up next to you.
My French gaff nestles in a village with about 24 houses, a third of them owned by non-French. Everyone is white and every single conversation eventually turns to too many immigrants coming into the country expecting a free ride. I wonder who they really mean.
Sitting here contemplating the return of my addiction. These demons always come back to haunt me when I return to France. I think I can beat them but I'm staring defeat in the face once more. Damn you baguette et beurre demi-sel.