Mob grazing is where itās at
What the fuck are you at tagging me about agricultural issues. We have Clarence here,
what we call a land steward, he looks after the crop rotation, fertiliser and other such matters. Kindly address these menial matters with him.
Have you heard of pity?
I have, go on. How am I so lucky to be the recipient of your good nature?
You just are. Donāt overthunk it
Never did, but sharted on the drive down to Limerick once. Managed a pit stop in junction 14, left jocks in bin and as luck would have it, had a spare pair in the boot!
So, you returned from carpark escape back to the scene of the crime, dropped trow and re-donned new jocks instead of just going commando?
Talk me thought the thinking here.
Or he realised hed sharted, and hit the boot as soon as he got out of the car before waddling to the shitter.
No, I was able to bring the spare pair in with me to the jacks along with a small packet of baby wipes I would usually use for cleaning the dashboard of dust etc. All in all, it worked out ok. It could have been worse!
Fuck Sakeā¦ā¦
Fail to prepareā¦
Youāre really bored today pedalling that load of nonsense
These sorts of anecdotes were what made tfk great.
Not lads debating geopolitical events ad nauseam
I have plenty more !
The baby wipes are a gift from God himself in a situation like that. A lovely little set up you had there in fairness, you need not have left the car at all sure, what with the baby wipes and the spare pair of jocks. To bring it to the next level if you had a fragranced nappy bag in the car itād be unbelievable altogether, throw the used wipes and soiled jocks into your lovely fragranced nappy bag and away you go.
You miss @tank at times like this. His defecatory tales were poetic and enthralling. Iād say a bit of an oul shelling would be inspirational for a lad like him.
Youād look some cunt if someone tapped on your window looking for change for the car hoover
Thatās a risk youād have to be willing to take alright
As opposed to walking into the Filling Station with a bang of scutter off him ( with spare jocks & baby wipes in his pocket )