The Independent Group have been met with a mixture of celebration and contempt: a perfect name for a British theme pub if ever there was one.
My partner has no interest in going to the United States, but I would go tomorrow if you let me. I’m no longer in a position to do solo travelling, but that’s the life I have chosen.
Winged bestiality; aerial barbarism; malign and aloft.
I’d like to sit both ends of this phony Culture War down together for a nice cup of tea and a chat. It would be great.
I only like certain things, and top threes are about as far as I can get on any given topic.
I’ve never taken the view that the world is broken; I’ve never taken the view that society is going down the pan.
An old man stands, pontificating. His thumbs are in his belt loops; his chest is puffed out. He issues pronouncements on all sorts of things, oblivious to the fact that no one is listening.