He is wearing a brown leather blouson. Along the top, in strange yellow font, it says Top Gear.
I don’t profess to understand this mug. It holds the perfect amount of vodka, however, thereby obviating the need for frequent refills.
Janey was planning a short engagement, she’d simpered, and so, of course, the inevitable collection for the wedding present would soon follow.
Of all the compulsory financial contributions, that is the one that irks me most.
Two people wander around John Lewis picking out lovely items for themselves, and then they make other people pay for them.
It’s bare-faced effrontery. They choose things like plates, bowls and cutlery—
I mean, what are they doing at the moment: shoveling food from packets into their mouths with their bare hands?
I simply fail to see how the act of legally formalizing a human relationship necessitates friends,
family and coworkers upgrading the contents of their kitchen for them.
I’ve never actually been to a wedding ceremony.
I was invited to Loretta’s evening reception a couple of years ago, along with everyone else from the office.
It was in a horrible hotel near the airport, and we organized a minibus to get there;
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