If everyone ate garlic regularly nobody would complain about the smell; it would just be a part of our ambient funk.
A bit of odd garlic lore: if you place a peeled clove between your toes, it will manifest on your breath within an hour or so. Powerful stuff, garlic.
you make that sound so, well, filthy!
..... She took a riddie....
Yeah but that was just cos Theresa was cooking for you, so you reduced your take away allowance to 4 or 5 nights a week instead of 7.
But she's dumped you now, so it'll soon pile back on.
' is available in all good bookshops.
...but it's alright, it all goes straight over his head anyway.
)
He does describe Bombay well, though, although Leopold's isn't quite the den of iniquity that he portrays. Well, it wasn't when me and you had a few pints there. Worst thing that was going on was the waiters nicking Fred's toys!
Total shite, imo.
A load of flowery poncing about - 'Carla once said that words are the glistening teardrops on the beef-curtains of infinity' and other such drivel.
And he's clearly making half of it up.
And he's a prat.
Apart from that, like ... He does describe Bombay well, though, although Leopold's isn't quite the den of iniquity that he portrays. Well, it wasn't when me and you had a few pints there. Worst thing that was going on was the waiters nicking Fred's toys!
....she was obviously a right looker 
)She took a riddie....
Tonight's tea is either gonna be poached coley, with steamed pak choi and egg noodies tossed in my lush and dead simple lime juice and birds eye chilli dressing OR (if the coley does actually need to be defrosted first, as I suspect it may) it's going to be cheese and mushroom omelette with baked spud and an iceberg and sweet pepper salad
I had some finny haddy, with tomato couscous and steamed broccoli and cauli.
He calls himself 'Shantaram' ffs! Like every other fucking Osho clone in fucking Arambol. I met a bloke who calls himself 'Manuraj' last year. It means 'Peaceful Philosopher', he told me. About 8 fucking times. )
