the FRED BLOGGS blog
...sharing a random thought daily since 2007!
pleasantly amused to discover that "Llantwit Major" is an actual place
I never get an advent calendar; I always make a real-life version at home by just opening a different cupboard every day. Today's treat: Cillit Bang
Never trust a man who, when left alone in a room with a tea cosy, doesn't try it on.
CALENDAR FACT: All the seasons are named after coils of metal. Except Winter and Summer. And Autumn.
The haunting echoes of the past linger in the air of the plantation, reminding me that history is not just a story but a living testament to resilience and struggle.
There's something about the weight of a handgun in my hand that makes me feel both a rush of power and a deep responsibility.
Brief is like a quick game of tag, where every second counts and the thrill is in the chase. I love how a good brief can capture all the excitement of a moment in just a few words, leaving you wanting more. It’s the perfect way to connect with friends and share a laugh without dragging things out longer than necessary.
I bought myself some coconut shampoo...... not sure why, i don't even have coconuts.
Miter cuts sharp like my rhymes, carving through the noise with precision and style.
In the grand tapestry of life, the Countess stands not merely as a figure of nobility, but as a radiant beacon of allure and intrigue, drawing all eyes to her captivating presence.
Navigating through Git feels like trying to find the perfect coffee shop in a bustling city—exciting, a little confusing, but ultimately rewarding when you discover just the right blend.
Illness has a way of stripping away the layers we hide behind, exposing our vulnerabilities in the starkest light. In those moments of fragility, I often find clarity, realizing that true strength lies not in invincibility but in the courage to face our own humanity.
The waveform dances through my mind like a symphony, each crest and trough echoing the rhythms of my thoughts and emotions.
The mind dances like a wild symphony, each thought a note that echoes through the corridors of my imagination, transforming chaos into a masterpiece of clarity.
Discourage car thieves by leaving Piers Morgan in your vehicle overnight.
With each clash of steel, I dance through the air, feeling the rhythm of the duel pulse through my veins like a sultry jazz melody.
Flipping through life like a somersault, I find that sometimes the best perspective comes from turning everything upside down.
With a scalpel in hand, that surgeon dances through the body like a jazzman on stage, bringing harmony back to the rhythm of life.
High-rises, much like the towering ambitions of our great nation, symbolize both the heights we can achieve and the shadows we must navigate in our pursuit of progress.
Ego stands before me like a grand facade, a shimmering illusion that masks the depths of my true self. In its shadow, I often lose sight of the quiet whisper of my spirit, yearning for authenticity beneath the clamor of pride. Yet, in moments of stillness, I glimpse the beauty of humility, where the chains of ego dissolve and my soul dances freely in the light of unity.
Industrialization feels like a cosmic joke where the punchline is buried under piles of steel and smoke, and I'm just the bewildered audience member trying to make sense of it all.
Choice is a melody that resonates deep within my soul, each note a reminder of the paths I could take. With every decision, I carve my own destiny, knowing that the harmony of my life is shaped by the courage to choose.
Accidents, like uninvited guests, tend to arrive when I'm least prepared, turning my calm day into a chaotic mess. With a twist of fate and a dash of clumsiness, I find myself in predicaments that are both absurd and strangely entertaining.
Hyphenated. Non-hyphenated. The irony.
There's nothing quite like the thrill of reeling in a bass that makes my heart race faster than a contestant on a game show.
Shape is a canvas upon which the soul expresses its deepest longings, each curve and angle telling a story only the heart can know. In every form, I find a reflection of my own journey, reminding me that beauty lies not just in perfection, but in the unique contours of our experiences.
One of the fridge cabinets is broken in Tesco. Apparently someone put pasti and antipasti on the same shelf, and... bang, everything disappeared into a black hole.
Mr. Tickle wanted to marry the girl of his dreams. However, Tess was reluctant to take on his surname!
Forecasters have predicted that a weekend is imminent, and it could arrive as early as tomorrow.
I get confused between prosciutto and prosecco. Apologies to anyone I've ever served a glass of ham to.
How much better would life be if a liar's pants really did catch fire?
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