I'm reading a history of the plague in Cambridge in the 17th century.

By Christ it's dull.

They all die.

:drive:

Where desperate, musty-smelling old men drinking tepid dishwater in an attempt to drown out the awful knowledge of the diabolical fruitlessness of their half-lived lives.

I don't do pubs. I don't do anywhere without valet parking.

No thank you. No thank you indeed.

As you were.

There's also a very funny story about a chap who had the wheeze of voiding his privy into his cellar, only for the floorboards to rot and for him to drown in his own feculence. :hehe:

Is it April 1st? Because they're pulling out all the stops today.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/may/14/first-d ate-tory-shared-politics-relationship-okcomrade

Sorry to hear you're going to get knifed, mate. :-( When's the date?

Some time in August, after holibobs. Will arrange tomorrow. 4 weeks in a cast and then 4 months of physio 'should' see me walking again :-(

One course consisted of Celeriac, which had been blackened for 3 hours over hot coals.
The ice cream scoop portion seemed a bit inadequate, given the fact the waiter retreated back to the kitchen with 90% of it :-(

You may have to hobble to my 'event', then.

We're thinking October.

I'll bring the drugs :thumbup:

Also, we should be able to find somewhere to do the baked meats on Upper St.

:hehe:

Popular history certainly puts the emphasis on the fiction of the story.