Band-aid?
Band-aid?
He was in last year's one...
They are the Jane Bennett and Mr. Bingley of Young Hollywood.
Provided I'm somewhere above Paolo Nutini, I approve of this....
- Queue up all your brother fucking jokes: Game of Thrones' Lena Headey is having a baby! [E! Online]
Pinkham, I salute you. This is just brilliant.
Same here, although my cousin stole my baby name for her wee girl (Freya) and then a week later my friend called her daughter by my 'back up name' (Harper). Freya I'm more gutted about 'cos it was a perfect name to honour my grandmothers Mary (Rae) and Faye. :| My mum, bless her, totally called my cousin on it too,…
Of course they're naming everything after him, he's the fucking best!
I need this on a monogrammed thermos STAT!
I once served His Royal Highness Alice Cooper £8-worth of cinema pick & mix, and chatted to him for 5 minutes about fruit machines (and how they're commonly known as 'puggies' in Scotland) before he went in to watch 'Wallace & Gromit: The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit'.
Grade: C (getting a bee in your one-piece in the summer of 1998 and your mom, wild-eyed, rips it off in front of everyone.)
It's a Swanson-approved tactic.
I'm a little scared of doxxing him tbh (he still, as far as I know, is in contact with people I know) but suffice it to say the portrait was of the cover of that album, and ran full-length down his arm, from elbow to wrist, spanning the entire forearm.
One of mine had a full-length portrait of Marilyn Manson circa Mechanical Animals on his forearm. Was quite surreal watching him jack off with that arm. :|
The first major ex: a white guy with cornrows, who couldn't do it without music (usually HIM, KMFDM or Slipknot), and cried when he came. :| Still can't believe I spent a year with the guy.
I once saw someone at a house party whip his trousers down and set fire to his pubes as his 'party piece'. He managed somehow to do this wrong (still not sure there's actually a right way, tbh) and set his dick, balls and barse (perineum?) on fire. That was pretty fucking dumb.
My one fabulous foray into house parties resulted in 60 or so teens hiding upstairs in cupboards, under beds and behind doors, a large cube of hash being stuffed in someone's mouth to prevent it being found, and all of the beer, drug paraphernalia and spirits being shoved in the kitchen when we realised the polis were…
Nah mate, Church of Scotland. Less Xenu, more coffee mornings... :)
I don't want to alarm you Mark, but my godmother may possibly be your dad (only with a Scottish accent rather than a Russian one).
Forever Team SRK!