Gandtee

Yeah. As my old mum used to say, 'The trouble with her is that she's too lippy.'😉

'And recommended considering staying in a Corrections Hospital?' So he can decide where he wants to serve his sentence, can he?

In 1933 we had real intelligence, not artificial. Golf? Why spoil a good walk? Thanks for your good wishes.

Born in London in 1933, I've experienced many bad bits but also the good bits. The late fifties through to the seventies were the best for me. Now? I'm just glad that I am ninety-one and not nineteen. I doubt I'll be around in ten years' time. But who knows?

Every evening before I go to sleep, and often during the night. It gets me back to sleep. Just finished a Ruth Rendell, Simisola. Now into Jo Nesbo. Headhunter, for the second time. That's one of the advantages of old age. You can read an already-read book six months later and still enjoy it. What was the question?😉

Stalkers? It takes one to know one.

Repeat offenders?😦

Nonsense. This cowardly man attacked a small boy with a flying kick. This called for his immediate arrest and prosecution for grievous bodily harm. The correct way is to go to the parents of the boy to sort the problem out.

'We're doomed. Doomed I tell. ye.' 'Don't panic! Don't panic!'

Cor. Luv a duck!😆

That's not a pigeon. It's a zebra dove. I rescued one years ago.

I've had to turn off watching Trump the great leader addressing his troops. Pass the sick bucket. Does this man ever talk about anything he does as not being the greatest, biggest, most beautiful and never has been done before? Yerp!🤮

Ninety-one-year-old attitude? Of course. These days, we have the 'Look at me' society. People taking numerous photos of themselves and posting them around the world, looking for praise and admiration, wondering, "What should I do next for even more attention. I know, I'll announce that I'm transgender." How many photos of themselves do old codgers have of themselves? They were too busy getting on with their lives. Now people are queuing up to announce, "Look at me. I'm gay!" Who gives a kangaroo's fart? I don't care if you are or not—no need to broadcast it for attention.

Much the same as tattooing. How many young women will regret having two Bluebirds tattooed on their breasts that turn into two vultures when they are grannies?

I'm ninety one. Growing up during the war years, kids like me didn't have time to think about changing our sexual gender and would think it crazy even to contemplate it. We had too many other things to think about and occupy our minds. We played together and took for granted what we were. Now the young generation sits in front of a computer or phone and tries to find something to enjoy or change their lives. 'Oh. Changing my sex looks interesting. I'll try that. And it will draw a lot of attention." But then it could be the fault of eating too much hormone-pumped chicken.😉

An inflated blowup doll could create a few problems at check-in😉.

We're doomed! We're doomed. Meanwhile, an average of thirty people die in road accidents every day. And they are the only the ones reported.

In 1984, my Thai was the boss of a painting and gilding company working on the Sultan's Palace in Brunei. My English wife died in 1982. We have been married for thirty-eight years.

"Look. The Emperor has no clothes."

'They seek him here. They seek him there. They seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven? Is he in hell? That elusive library book stealer from Camberwell.

Not a mention Tosh or Son?

Buy her a new amulet from the Wat. And make sure the monk doing the blessing tells her it will protect her on Rama 2 road.😉

A bit over the top methinks. While not demeaning the seriousness of the construction accidents on this road, there is a greater chance of having a traffic accident and more chance of it by increasing the miles to be travelled. Have a safe journey. I am using that route to Hua Hin tomorrow.

In forty years here, I've never been asked to take my shoes off before entering a restaurant. The barbers and some shops, yes. But a simple request to do so would not give me cause to get out of my cot. Go with the flow. But wear a shirt! Who wants to sit near a sweaty body when eating? Even 'wife beaters.' On the beach, OK. In an eating place, no.

Meanwhile there is a shirtless individual lounging on the cushions with his sweaty body.