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stuartlaidler.bsky.social
Holding out hope for a Muppet Movie starring Nicolas Cage.
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I wish a former friend hadn’t blocked me on socials as this describes the sociopathic fucking turd’s mindset to a T.

I have a joke about Thomas Hobbes, but it's nasty, brutish, and short.

Linford Christie once asked me for directions in Jarrow.

Kemi Badenoch has placeholder text energy

I saw a vampire in Amsterdam. True story.

The cats are helping us paint.

Cuddle puddle:

Bumblebee with saddlebags:

I’m trying to go an entire month without using any euphemisms for masturbation. Touch wood.

🤯

Happy Blaydon Races day to fellow Geordies everywhere.

I’m tempted to go to the USA on my holidays so that I can enjoy being in a nation even more determined than the UK to shoot it’s own dick off and then noisily complain about having no dick.

Four tentacle pots still available on my website www.roseschmits.com

We’re all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the gutter.

It would fit the whole “inept galoot” vibe of Trump for whomever he sends to hurl Musk out of a window to spectacularly and cartoonishly fuck it up and tumble publicly to their own death.

Just walked past a cat doing a massive shit in the centre of someone’s lawn, whilst maintaining unbroken eye contact with the increasingly frantic dog barking at the window. Respect.

Everyone stop what you’re doing and go and see The Ballad of Wallis Island. It’s absolutely incredible.

The Polish foreign minister, a writer and journalist who covered the Soviet war in Afghanistan in the 1980s, clearly knows a thing or two about a patiently-timed response.

“…and we’re getting reports that the President has asserted ‘He who smelt it, dealt it.’ More on this as we get it…”

hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha (breath) hahahahahahaha

If Trump dies in the next 3 months then it shows corporate power beats state power in the US. If Musk dies in the next 3 months then it shows the opposite. Personally I’m hopeful that they successfully assassinate each other.

OH MY GOD

I regret to inform you that I am no longer the most handsome man with Parkinson’s disease: www.bbc.co.uk/news/article...

Prelude to a fight.

I’m told that Parkinson’s means that I’ll have to cut blue cheese out of my diet. My brain scan to confirm the diagnosis is in two weeks. Until then, I am absolutely windmilling Cabrales into my face hole.

Shout out to Ash Regan’s PR team, who will be spending most of today figuring out how to spin this so that their client doesn’t look thicker than a Boxing Day turd.

We were never meant to have this much access to the thoughts of absolute bellends.

“it’s quite simple; either you keep tickling *my* tummy, or I unsheath the claws on the paw currently sunk several inches into *your* fat fucking gut. Your move monkey. Your move…”

I feel sorry for Aretha Franklin because she turned down the chance to earn billions from my rewrite of Walk On By. If you fancy something nice to eat. Vegetables, mash, filling of meat. Shepherds Pie…

Will they give me a printout of my brain scan do we think?

I find that some of the symptoms of Parkinson’s include depression, anxiety, and wild mood swings. If it wasn’t for my arm shaking, they’d have no way of differentiating between my symptoms and my normal, background levels of dickishness.

This is the coolest sentence I’ve ever read on an NHS letter. A brain scan in the nuclear medicine department sounds both cool, and like the lead into a 50s B movie.

He’s right; you will have enormous fun listening to it. I mean, maybe not the surprise pun run, but other than that…

Came back on here after a few hours away just to see somebody I like a lot has had to take themselves away from here because of the abuse they’re getting for merely existing. Fix your hearts or die.