chrisp65

all the owners money came from chicken kiev's apparently (I know, I know)

One of those annoying shots where I just couldn't get the framing I wanted because of parked cars, posts, stuff. Again, couldn't quite get the framing because of traffic and obstacles. Turned out to be a really nice guy, I asked if I could take a couple of snaps and he was happy to let me dick around providing I promised I wasn't from the council.

I'm struggling to spot what's comedy and what's plain bizarre tonight. Is somebody really arguing some music is better because it has more notes in it? Bed early for me I think.

Agreed, it wasn't the likes of Singapore, it was from memory (so apologies if I've got it wrong), the likes of Air india and Pakistan Air etc.. I'm far from being an expert and I know external condition is cosmetic. But those things looked like they'd been rolled down the road not transported by flat bed.

I spent 8 months working at an aero engine maintenance facility (primarily on a GE90 test bed) and that was an eye opener. They dealt with engines from airlines based all over the globe. All I can say is that the engines arriving for maintenance from BA and Virgin were already in a better condition than those leaving to be re fitted for many other airlines. I think the biggest surprise was the pop riveted patch repairs, dents, pitting and general tired appearance of the budget airlines and asian airlines. Ok they may be able to boast that they buy new aircraft, but don’t ever ever let them tell you the servicing regime is the same as the expensive airlines. You want to know at least part of the reason it’s cheaper to fly some airlines, engine service history.

it's Q magazine if it had been Heat then doubtless Take That would have won and the South Wales Veterinarian Journal voted for Super Furry Animals

changed a radiator and thermo rad valve today heating now working no leaks, no plumbers bill total cost £7.45 for valve, rad was a 'sample' from a supplier dead chuffed with myself

Cramps - Good Taste

Would it be best to all wait a couple of years and see what Libya becomes before we all compete to see who was responsible? I'd suggest that if in two years time we have another Iran, Pakistan, or even Afghanistan, but just a few miles of the coasts of Italy and Malta nobody will want to claim they were first to help. It's a long way from being over.

Yeah, French Connection has to be about the best. Plus the entire film Vanishing Point, which is essentially just a car chase.

standing still when I've just stepped off the bottom of an escalator. stopping in shop doorways to check something in my bag. not getting my purse out of my bag until after I'm asked for money for the thing I'm perfectly aware I was purchasing. ooh, my mistake, those are all elderly female traits. mine is leaving washing in a heap on the floor right next to the washing basket she goes menthol!

It must be in the pipeline, so, how would you spend your film backer money? I'm going with: Director: Woody Allen Jobs played by: Vin Diesel working title: iJobs it's a sure fire hit

60ft dolls - happy shopper (found a bunch of 'vintage' cd's in the garage, having a great time goinf through them)

Mr mooney, it's all anagrams! (I didn't just google up the answer) ok, I did.

disappointed?? did u expect to see a naked woman or something lol yeah just a dumb joke, mature and student in the same thread title promised to deliver something deeply moving. if you don't do it, you'll always wonder 'what if'. best of luck

hmmm, disappointed with this thread. Not what I thought I was going to get. To answer the point, I recently sat a degree course and the really difficult parts were putting up with teenagers and knowing some lecturers weren't up to date with current industry practises. At 27 you probs won't have the grating jarring generation gap. If you don't already 'do' radiography you won't get wound up by some info potentially ebing incorrect. Go for it, ultimate result is you'll be helping save lives.

In my experience, the anti Apple Fanboys are far more vocal than the apple fanboys. I'd like to think I fit into neither camp (I own an iPhone, but not any other Apple product, and never have) You only have to look at this thread to see people saying "**** his company. Never owned an apple product, never will" Why? What's wrong with owning one of their products? Anyway, RIP to Jobs. Even if you hate his company, you can't ignore the contribution he's made to the technological world. I'm currently sat in a room with 8 other people. I have no idea what brand of mobile phone 5 of them have. I'm sure it's a combination of htc's and samsungs and the like. In fact, looking around I can see 2 blackberry users so that's three of us in total. I know for a fact there are 3 iphone users, because they constantly mention the fact. I have no interest or bias. Mine is a company phone, it's what gets delivered March every year. But I've definitely noticed that people with apple products love that they are apple. There was a joke some time ago: 'how can you tell if someone has an iphone? oh don't worry, they'll tell you.' it was funny because it was true. The guy was a marketing genius.

at 90 mph he'd have sailed straight over that.

is it true City were only allowed to play at night with full floodlights?

draw undefeated shitting bricks last 17 minutes third on motd

Was that the same liverpool manager on MOTD last night refusing to discuss a ropey penalty he hadn't seen that was recently bemoaning the fact that all decisions always go against liverpool? Pathetic lack of class there Kenny.

I've got a crazy idea. Why not re test people every 10 years. More employment, self funding, potentially a chance to re-educate people on how to drive on motorways. I'm on the motorway most days. It's the general lack of awareness and anticipation from pillocks in each and every lane that I find scary. Just to stereotype we've got: I know 2 lanes are empty but I'm staying out here, I've got a 3 series. I know 2 lanes are empty but I'm staying out here, I have an Audi. I'm a timid lady in an invisible neck brace. I will stay in the middle lane, it's what I always do. I'm a pensioner, the lorries will just have to go around my Micra. Sort out the economy and road safety before you start pricking about with populist Top Gear distraction tactics.

I was parked on the M4 just outside Bath for an hour a few weeks ago thinking 'I wish they'd raise the speed limit'. Bit of a pointless distraction.

not strictly poetry, an extract of Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboatbobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows' weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now. Hush, the babies are sleeping, the farmers, the fishers, the tradesmen and pensioners, cobbler, schoolteacher, postman and publican, the undertaker and the fancy woman, drunkard, dressmaker, preacher, policeman, the webfoot cocklewomen and the tidy wives. Young girls lie bedded soft or glide in their dreams, with rings and trousseaux, bridesmaided by glowworms down the aisles of the organplaying wood. The boys are dreaming wicked or of the bucking ranches of the night and the jollyrodgered sea. And the anthracite statues of the horses sleep in the fields, and the cows in the byres, and the dogs in the wetnosed yards; and the cats nap in the slant corners or lope sly, streaking and needling, on the one cloud of the roofs. You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing. Only your eyes are unclosed to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep. And you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-beforedawn minutely dewgrazed stir of the black, dab-filled sea where the Arethusa, the Curlew and the Skylark, Zanzibar, Rhiannon, the Rover, the Cormorant, and the Star of Wales tilt and ride. Listen. It is night moving in the streets, the processional salt slow musical wind in Coronation Street and Cockle Row, it is the grass growing on Llaregyb Hill, dewfall, starfall, the sleep of birds in Milk Wood. Listen. It is night in the chill, squat chapel, hymning in bonnet and brooch and bombazine black, butterfly choker and bootlace bow, coughing like nannygoats, sucking mintoes, fortywinking hallelujah; night in the four-ale, quiet as a domino; in Ocky Milkman's lofts like a mouse with gloves; in Dai Bread's bakery flying like black flour. It is to-night in Donkey Street, trotting silent, With seaweed on its hooves, along the cockled cobbles, past curtained fernpot, text and trinket, harmonium, holy dresser, watercolours done by hand, china dog and rosy tin teacaddy. It is night neddying among the snuggeries of babies. Look. It is night, dumbly, royally winding through the Coronation cherry trees; going through the graveyard of Bethesda with winds gloved and folded, and dew doffed; tumbling by the Sailors Arms. Time passes. Listen. Time passes. Come closer now. Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night. Only you can see, in the blinded bedrooms, the coms. and petticoats over the chairs, the jugs and basins, the glasses of teeth, Thou Shalt Not on the wall, and the yellowing dickybird-watching pictures of the dead. Only you can hear and see, behind the eyes of the sleepers, the movements and countries and mazes and colours and dismays and rainbows and tunes and wishes and flight and fall and despairs and big seas of their dreams. From where you are, you can hear their dreams.