Nearly 6 in 10 Americans say Trump should be charged for Jan. 6 riot--poll
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45
Community Greek Man Stricken by Mysterious Illness Left Without Treatment as Funds Run Dry in Rayong
Don't agree with you there Sir. I know only what I read in the OP. "Despite spending several hundred thousand baht on medical consultations and treatment, no doctor has been able to provide a diagnosis." The body will often self-heal if it is given the tools. Nature might be his only chance. -
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40
BBC in Trouble again.
Eh? I wasn't even talking about myself How can I be playing the victim ? I haven't claimed to be the victim of anything You aren't making any sense -
34
Weights and Maybe a Date — Gym Shenanigans in Patts innit
It was a Tuesday evening, a time when Patts Inn — a gym that smelled perpetually of old socks and shattered dreams — truly came alive. Lewie, a man whose enthusiasm regularly outstripped his actual ability, was midway through what he optimistically called a "bench press session." In reality, it was more of a valiant struggle against gravity, made all the more intense by the presence of Ploy. Ploy was doing pull-ups with the effortless grace of a spider monkey, making Lewie's grunts sound even more pathetic by comparison. "Just a few more, Lewie, you got this!" she chirped, a hint of suppressed laughter in her voice. Lewie, face a shade of puce usually reserved for overripe tomatoes, managed one last, shaky rep before the barbell threatened to stage a hostile takeover of his trachea. "Cheers, Ploy," he wheezed, wiping a torrent of sweat from his brow. "You make that look like… breathing. What's your secret? Are you secretly a robot sent from the future to make us mere mortals feel bad?" Ploy hopped down, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Just consistency, and not letting your ego write cheques your muscles can't cash. Unlike some people I know who skip leg day to focus on their 'glamour muscles'." She winked, and Lewie felt a familiar blush creep up his neck. His attempts to flirt with Ploy usually ended with him dropping something heavy or accidentally joining a Zumba class. Suddenly, a sound like a small car crash echoed from the back of the gym. Barry, the gym's resident strongman-in-training, had just attempted to deadlift a weight so astronomical it probably had its own gravitational pull. The barbell, groaning under the strain, decided it had had enough and plummeted to the floor, narrowly missing his toes. Barry, a man whose grunts were usually mistaken for an approaching train, let out a yelp that was surprisingly high-pitched. "Barry, mate, you okay?" Lewie called out, torn between genuine concern and the desperate urge to ask if he'd just invented a new dance move called the "Accidental Weight Drop Shimmy." Barry, his face a vibrant shade of beetroot, scrambled to collect the runaway plates. "Just… a momentary lapse in judgment! The bar clearly wasn't feeling it today!" he huffed, glaring at the innocent barbell as if it had personally insulted his lineage. Ploy, ever the voice of reason (and sarcasm), strolled over. "Barry, maybe try a weight that doesn't require a permit to lift? We're not trying to find out if the floor can withstand a small earthquake." Barry, surprisingly subdued, mumbled, "Yeah, yeah, you're probably right. I blame the lighting." As the gym returned to its usual symphony of clanking iron and the occasional grunt of existential dread, Lewie seized his moment. "Hey, Ploy," he began, trying for an air of nonchalance that was entirely absent, "I was thinking of grabbing a bite after this. There's that new burger place, 'The Beefy Banger'? I hear their burgers are so good, they'll make you forget all about Barry's deadlifts." Ploy paused, a slight smirk playing on her lips. Lewie held his breath, bracing for the inevitable "I'm busy washing my hair" excuse. "The Beefy Banger, eh?" she said, "I've heard their sweet potato fries are so good, they're practically a religious experience." Lewie's internal organs did a spontaneous jig. "They are! So, uh, fancy experiencing a religious epiphany with me?" She looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Sure, Lewie. But only if you promise not to tell them you train at Patts Inn, or spill your entire drink on me this time." Lewie beamed, the earlier gym chaos now a distant, humorous memory. "Deal! But no promises about Barry not trying to deadlift the entire building next week." As they headed towards the exit, the lingering scent of disinfectant and the faint whisper of ambition, Lewie felt a definite win. Weights? Check. A date? Double check. And a solid twenty minutes of gym-based comedy for future anecdotes. Patts Inn, for all its questionable charm, had delivered. And Lewie, miraculously, hadn't dropped a single thing. Are there any other gym-related mishaps or triumphs you'd like to hear about? -
34
Weights and Maybe a Date — Gym Shenanigans in Patts innit
If anyone, I think you would be the one to know the answer -
40
BBC in Trouble again.
Nah, you just play the victim card. Everytime Israel is mentioned you are the first to jump to their defense, no matter what
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