Is nowhere sacred for Men anymore?

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Same thing happened to me at a Classical Music festival in Leeds Castle grounds. I am not making this up..She splashed me!!!

Good looking woman, but a lousy shot.
She probably normally charges for that service! :eek:
 
are you saying your half Scottish
How dare you. We Scots don't mind paying. The Indians however....
 
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So, is nowhere sacred for men to escape to anymore - if only for half-an-hour to read the newspaper, and listen to the sports coverage on the radio - and to get your hair cut?

I find the bathroom is the the most sacred place for me.

I can read the paper sat on the throne.

I can soak in the bath whilst listening to the radio.

It's the one place I can escape from the Mrs......heaven.

PS. I'm still working on the hair cut bit.
 
Yep me too...Didnt realise I was going bald until I cut my dreadlocks off and it never grew back..

Been using clippers ever since
 
The local village near where I now live only has a couple of unisex hairdressers .

However , I remember my dad regularly taking me to the traditional barbers when I was a youngster in the early 1960's .

The Short back & sides was the only 'style' they offered . A good slapping of Brylcreem was obligatory , and they were artistes with the traditional open razors which I always watched with awe as they were wielded across other customers' faces but have never to this day experienced myself ( don't know that I would trust ANYONE that much ) .

Fond memories .
 
Hahaha.

It's not intentional... It's in my DNA :doh:

:D
Yes us " darkies" are all the same when money is going the wrong way from ones pocket.
 
I've known some gora that are every bit as good as an aapna at bargaining ;)
 
I never bother with grooming. Its over rated

That's because you favour the 'tramp' look.
 
I've known some gora that are every bit as good as an aapna at bargaining ;)
Do not talk rubbish. We always bargain better. That's why our Mercs are always bigger than goras ones.
 
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We had one pub on the Fish Quay in North Shields that had Bacchus tins screwed to the tables as ashtrays. The barmaid would pick the table up and turn it upside down to empty it
 

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