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Thank you very much | Diolch yn fawr
All at JackArmy.net would like to thank everyone who has played a part on this site over the past 25 years whether that is through writing, contributing, moderating, posting or just visting and reading.
Without any of you the work that has gone into the site would have been pointless and we will always be proud that we built, generated and managed a community that was such a big part of the Swansea City supporting life for so long.
It has been a pleasure to bring to you the site for so long but the time is now right to turn the lights out for the last time but we do it both with a heavy heart and a sense of pride driven by the so many messages received since we announced the closure.
The site will remain here for a period until we archive and mothball it for the last time later this summer but all aspects are in a read only format.
If that video had been five or ten minutes, and if the presenter not been so aggravating, I'd have stuck with it. Pity. There's clearly a story worth telling.
Just not by him.
Shit. Is there more to it than walking up and down? That's all I've ever done.
Except when I had a petrol mower. Then I used to have to jog up and down. It wasn't great.
Currently I've a Ryobi battery mower. The batteries are shit, the cut - on lowest setting - looks like I've missed bits...
But there again, I feel like a million dollars after mowing my lawn.
N.B. Before anyone suggests it I don't think I'd get that same sense of euphoria doing anyone else's lawns.
Lidl are flogging robot mowers for £200. If it was taking me two hours I'd be considering splashing out.
Luckily my postage stamp takes me 15 minutes in total to do both front and back.
She used to go to the same pub as me in the 90s. She'd usually be accompanied by extraordinarily young men. She wasn't a slim lady but would wear skintight stuff that looked, sadly, horrendous. Therefore I don't think she'd be bothered about the public seeing her looking a mess. After all...
I felt Adolescence was one episode too long. I'd have cut 40 minutes from the boy/psychologist episode which was poorly directed. And there wasn't enough Stephen Graham, who lit up the screen in every scene he featured in.
From dark British drama to annoying but compelling American reality...
Actually this was one of the things that I thought was weird about my Nan calling her kitchen the scullery.
In her teens and twenties she'd been a scullery maid. She ought to have known the difference.
Two from my childhood.
"It's by there"
"Putsy" meaning easy as in "jumping across the reen is putsy"
Actually I don't think I've heard "reen" since the 1970s.
"Big Boys" on CH4. Beautiful, funny, dark, relatable. The writer is gay, and this is broadly biographical, so it's the sort of thing Russel T Davies might've done, if that helps your decision-making either way.
Our bedtime excitement these days extends only as far as attempting Saturday's Daily Mail crossword.
£1.60 a week. I don't even read the bleedin' thing.
Lots of suggestions already that I bloody adore. So I'm flailing around for those not mentioned.
"Tie Your Mother Down" by Queen.
"Book of Brilliant Things" by Simple Minds.
(And, because it's the best song I ever heard on the back seat of a Morris Marina...)
"Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You" by Led...
It sounds like he snapped, yes. A bad day at the office, for sure. Mortifying.
Edit: as there are a number of parties involved. Perhaps he's considered a danger to them as well as to himself.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c3w14w8xz2jo.amp
Presumably we can't discuss matters still being investigated by the police? Pity. It sounds like a cracker that would've had Grange Hill's censors foaming at the mouth.
Stereophonics, like Yes, and early Johnny Rotten for me are filed under - great music, crap vocals. Frustrating but I just can't abide them.
I don't mind Geddy Lee, like. Or latter day Rotten. Odd, I know 😀
I'm going to watch an episode of Traitors and then I'm going to eat pizza.
Mrs Bear will be right by my side. But no hanky panky cos her hip has given up the ghost. Sad face.
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