Yeah gonna do the release so can actually go out with the little 'un on āAdventuresā He is now 7 and told Mum - I want to take Grandad on an Adventure to London when he comes, Iām perfectly capable of looking after him even though he is old and I know my way around all the best places now.
I was thinking more along the lines ofā¦does he really want to be stuck with you for 10 days lol
he already has a shopping list 
You asked your Dad to order you a Long Time?
Was that online or?
Asking for a friend
This is something you really donāt want to order on The Waterside, believe meā¦
I am with you there @Cobham-Saint.
Just the ride back in a taxi and the females walking the streets was nearly enough to turn my stomach.
Just doing the day jobā¦
Welcome to lockdown bods multiplied with summer clothing multiplied with a general lack of self awareness
Speak for yourself 
That is one sight Iām not looking forward to on my return!
And not being non-woke, a size 24 ++ may well feel good wearing a large belt & size 12 vest but I do prefer not to frequent locations where that happens whenever possible.
I can see how horrid it looks in the bathroom mirror each morning when I get out the shower without being reminded when Iām out & about!
Ffs
The test and trace team contacted me this morning
What a bunch of cunts.
an obnoxious woman who does not know the rules telling me I am not allowed to go for a swab test and have to have it done at home she actually hung up on me.
cunt
Had to call 119 and I am allowed to get my test done outside. she (the cunt) could not have understood. No shit Sherlock.
Welcome home. 
Well they aināt gonna find me.
My mobile doesnāt have roaming
Neither did mine it was a landline I was called on
Meanwhile.
Down on the farm.
Iāve turned all those karaoke nights & song writing moments to good use.
I told the tale of the app and the bank and and.
Today has been
got to go to a cash holding branch and order via App. Where on App? Gets employee 2ā¦ gets employee 3ā¦
they moved
To be continued
The Bank hasnt updated my details. Cant use the App
The Secret Diary of Paul Taylor, aged 46 and 1/4.
It has been an eventful few weeks in the new Chez Pap. Yes, weāve moved, and I personally bear the scars of doing so. The cat escaped over the wall morning two, I try to follow with only slippers on, fall off a 7ft wall and fuck my foot up. Still not expecting to walk without pain for a bit.
To literally add insult to injury, one of my colleagues phones up and calls me āOfficer Dibbleā, because Iāve been bested by my āTop Catā. Bastard!
The cat nonchalantly wandered back into the house two days later, Iām still injured as fuck and while the accusations coming from Ginge and Lastborn about me being the Mossley Hill Cat Strangler subside, they still give me jip for the next week or so because I was injured and couldnāt lift shit.
The day they hoisted my two fat tellies over was probably the angriest Gingora got. She couldnāt moan at me for being injured without looking like a cunt so instead I was given a Nuremburg level grilling over all the coffee stains Iād left in the kitchen.
I did briefly consider saying āthose werenāt coffee stains, love. I took a shit on your kitchen topsā but this fabrication would not have been welcomed. She was already at Alan-Brazil-on-twelve-pints levels of redness and I did not think my contribution would bring harmony.
Papās cat:
Pap:
The Secret Diary of Paul Taylor, aged 46 and seventy one 250ths
Something of a milestone today. I went out and walked about in a TESCO. Every step hurt a bit, but far less than the excruciating and tear-inducing malarkey of the first couple of days. We went to the Park Road branch, which is in quite a dodgy area of Liverpool. Rather cleverly, TESCO have put all of the shop on the first floor, meaning shoplifters have to get down a ramp or a flight of stairs to rob anything.
The new area is very weird. I still donāt know it very well yet (I havenāt been out properly) but I am already a member of the local Facebook group. Itās odd - the houses down here are much smaller than those in North Liverpool - we live in a terrace - but the concerns seem a lot more middle class and dare I say it, wanky.
Weāre talking lost cats, recommendations for reflexologists, complaints about inconsiderate parking.
Our last house was next to a pub. A murder in said pub, ten years before we moved in, sparked a gangland war which led to the tragic crossfire death of a 12 year old nipper. When we lived there, the house two doors down had its windows put out by a fucking shot gun (no one killed this time). My old house is on Ross Kemp on Gangs.
The pub also had a free function room, which is the last thing you want any pub near your house having. Funerals were the absolute worst. A group of people, often separated by decades and/or fucking hate each other, with the one person that kept them in line in the ground that day. Saw something akin to a football riot break out once.
On balance, I think Iāll take the lost cats and impromptu calls for foot fiddlers, especially if it means thereās less chance of that Ross Kemp cunt turning up here.
āRoss Kemp finds lost catsā doesnāt sound hard enough for him.