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A friend of mine lives right on the other side of Plymouth (in an area that I don't know well), but there is a bus service that takes me virtually to her door. After an evening of drinking and smoking she asked me where I catch the bus to get home.
"Down on the main road."
"Which way? Which side?"
"So you know where the wedding dress shop is. Turn right there and it’s just a little bit further."
"Past the wedding dress shop?"
"Yeah"
"Past the kebab shop?"
"Yeah"
"Past the social club?"
"Yeah it's just along there."
"Past the bus stop?"
"No. What? Wait. You think my set of directions for how to walk to where I'm going to catch the bus involves walking past a bus stop?"
Ten minutes of good natured cackling followed.
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On Sunday I tried to follow a recipe to make a lemon tart. I made an excellent job of the pastry case, but forgot half of the ingredients for the filling (including half a pint of cream). I made what can only be described as a lemon quiche.
Richard "second worst dessert ever" B
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