Joe Ironsides at Niche

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...with the candlestick.

Just finished a game of Blades Cluedo. Whoda thunk it was mild-mannered Glenn wot dunnit?
Aaaaah Glenn Cockerill……… the perfect replacement for either Fleck or Norwood in today’s team (assuming Hecky doesn’t stick him on the bench 😯)
 
People are just getting silly now, so i'm done.
Can we now assume you are no longer a couple or should that be a triple? with the large lady you where food binging with a couple of month ago.
 
Never forget his opening brace down at towd Victoria ground, stoke away first game of season.
We won 3-1
 

All the facts stack up.
I saw Bob Booker in Cooplands on Fitzalan Square. He was raging that Withey had flushed him and Alan Cork out of the network of tunnels they'd built in Eccleshall woods.
He'd launched a surprise attack, while they were napping, flinging home made pyros made of Izal powder and dried badger piss.

All Bob had left was his outfit made of squirrel fur, nice moleskin hat and smart cat leather shoes.
He reckoned the tunnels were full of similar treasures, and feared Withe would sell them all off and just pocket the cash.

knowsnowt post just confirms it all.
 
Saw him doing some bushcraft deep in the woodland.
We chatted over some mead he'd made, and drank from cherry kuksas he'd personally hand whittled.
I got quite tipsy and laughed at his Ray Mears cargo shorts. He carved me up with a very nice Woodlore knife, then stitched me up with a Hawthorn needle and nettle cordage.
We parted on good terms.
Bet yous live next door to Hecky, basing it on he don't seem to be on this planet best part of time, but could put that down to the fact he works in pro football..
As for yourself, still working it out ,but what ever, keep it up, young man we all need relief from life's ...........................life.
I did a bit of bushcraft mi sen in far ago days but don't remember owt like you mention, if memory serves it were more like wrestling, no.......ye......maybe.
PS thanks for the new word, KUKSAS, sounds like summut a Ukranian would call a ruskie.
 
Saw him doing some bushcraft deep in the woodland.
We chatted over some mead he'd made, and drank from cherry kuksas he'd personally hand whittled.
I got quite tipsy and laughed at his Ray Mears cargo shorts. He carved me up with a very nice Woodlore knife, then stitched me up with a Hawthorn needle and nettle cordage.
We parted on good terms.

I once sought the sacred river Alph to walk the caves of ice in order to break my fast on honeydew and drink the milk of paradise. Oh, no, wait - that was Rush.
 
All the facts stack up.
I saw Bob Booker in Cooplands on Fitzalan Square. He was raging that Withey had flushed him and Alan Cork out of the network of tunnels they'd built in Eccleshall woods

Anyone else read it like this when they saw the typo?

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