I'm (at least) half Welsh and that is where my core socialist influence comes from. English by birth but my heart is always with Wales and Michael is one of the greatest living Welshmen. When he speaks I'm ready to storm the barricades β
Strangely he doesn't seem to draw nearly as much flak as other dissenting voices from the right wing headbangers. Gary Linekar can't tie his shoelaces without creating a shit storm
I had an "Uncle" Billy (he wasn't blood family), my Grandads best friend from the war. I saw him every year, he'd come and stay for a few weeks, he eventually lived with us until he died
He was the most Scottish man I've ever met, accent, turn of phrase, porridge for breakfast every day
On his deathbed I learnt he was actually Polish, came after the war to join his sister who was a refugee in Glasgow
I've been a bit dragged down lately (2019 onwards), as I'm sure many of you all have
So with this in mind. Who are nice people you know or have met?
You can have more than one, it's not finite, just big up good people
I have a friend, Steve. When we were young (15) he was proper cool, me not so much. He didn't do the mean girls thing, he clued me up. Introduced me to so much music, literally my foundation. He remembers my birthday, my kids too. As a man this is borderline superhero territory
He truly is. He also serves as my memory backup as he remembers EVERYTHING whereas I forgot most of my life, so as long as I tell him it's recoverable π
Whoa whoa whoa. Don't you dare sneak off lovely lady. I'll be sure to check in more, even if I've got nothing to say . Don't go anywhere please, I'm listening if not talking
We haven't talked in a bit, my bad. You always seem so loved I feel like an interloper, butting in to conversations. You're a jewel in my timeline and I'll make sure to pipe up more often
(You'll regret this turn of events most likely, but here we are x)
My Cousin Sarah and I got to stay at our Great Grandma's house together, and it was raining, and she told us we didn't have to be cooped up, we could go play in the rain. This was very exciting, because it's not something our parents would have gone for. So we twirled around and leapt in puddles and licked raindrops off rose petals. When we were done our Gran put us in a hot bath, and made us hot tea and treats. She brought out a big bag of costume jewelry and let us go through it, we tried everything on, and thought we were very fancy, and she let us keep our favorite ones.
2012, the weekend of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, there was a flotilla of boats parading down the Thames river in London, including the Queen, on a gold boat waving to the plebs and bootlickers waving little plastic flags. It fucking pissed down all weekend, torrential rain. Literally pissed on the parade. Magic
We went camping in the woods with kids (7 and 5). As miserable as it was we had fun. Rain on a tent is a wonderful sound. Plus, wet plebs