Pages: [1]   Go Down
Print
Author Topic: What's your perfect Sunday?  (Read 890 times)
Sussex

« on: Sunday, November 2, 2008, 21:54:52 »

Well?

Today was ace. Up at the crack of dawn to walk the dog over crispy and chilly fields, buy the missus some flowers and do a bit of shopping, let her have the privilege of cooking roast beef and all the extras for lunch, have a bit of a nap, then Top Gear on the telly. Lush.

Yours?
Logged
axs
naaarrrrrppppp

Offline Offline

Posts: 13469





Ignore
« Reply #1 on: Sunday, November 2, 2008, 21:57:59 »

Hamilton winning the F1 title and me getting pissed would probably do it.
Logged
Sippo
Living in the 80s

Offline Offline

Posts: 15616


I ain't gettin on no plane fool




Ignore
« Reply #2 on: Sunday, November 2, 2008, 21:58:33 »

buy the missus some flowers

Were you in the dog house??

I wish I could've watched top gear! Had to watch dancing- which is also good mind!  Embarrassed
Logged

If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit...
spacey

Offline Offline

Posts: 2706



WWW
« Reply #3 on: Sunday, November 2, 2008, 22:05:38 »

Wake up, walk the dog.....the world has been taken over by the undead. Apparently there's no more room in hell or something. Luckily I manage to make it to the nearest off license/gun shop and spend the next few weeks drinking, eating savoury snacks and seperating zombies from their heads with an impresive selection of hi-tech weaponry. Jeremy Clarkson knocks on the shop window. He's a survivor and wants to come in and join my one man army of survival. Fuck that! I blow his brains out! I'm down to my last 5 cornish pasties and I fucking hate Jeremy Clarkson.
Logged
adje

Offline Offline

Posts: 14807





Ignore
« Reply #4 on: Sunday, November 2, 2008, 22:31:54 »

Three points in the morning, heavy celebratory lunch -time,roast dinner at 5,listen to the Fall as a reminder of a great gig on Sat--nowhere near as good as Spacey's though!
Logged

quot;Molten memories splashing down
 upon the rooves of Swindon Town"
Pages: [1]   Go Up
Print
Jump to: