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Well I suppose they could always sell it to TMR...
WTF
Quote from: Just One More on January 17, 2015, 05:52:29 AM WTF Gives a whole new meaning to junk mail
ED SETS FIRE TO HIMSELF…Tuesday, March 8, 11.45pm – Our houseI have just arrived home. The children are in bed and Carolyne is in the living room. I ask where Ed is and she says he’s working in my office at the bottom of the garden.It is a brick summerhouse with a desk, computers, telephones and swivel chairs.It’s a bitterly cold evening and I go to ask him whether he wants a coffee and to see how he’s doing.As I walk down the garden path, I wave and signal that I’m making a brew but he appears deep in thought.As I come closer, I nod and smile at him but things just don’t seem right. He doesn’t acknowledge me and is slumped in the chair.As I step onto the veranda of the summerhouse I can see through the window that his eyes look terrible, as if I’ve woken him up from a snooze.I make a fuss of him as I open the door. ‘Have I woken you up?’ I joke.He stares at me, my mind is racing; there’s a disgusting acrid smell. ‘What, oh, it’s you,’ he finally says.‘What have you done?’ I shout and, as I look down, I can see what he’s done.For some reason he has moved a convection heater, which stands on two bricks, into the middle of the room. It is melting through the synthetic carpet, releasing toxic chemicals into the room.‘For Christ’s sake, get out!’ I shout, but he’s not listening – he’s lethargic. ‘Get out!’ I shout. ‘You’ll kill yourself.’I kick the convection heater on to its back and reveal a large hole burnt through both the carpet and its underlay.I grab his chair, swing it round and drive it towards the door.As the chair’s feet hit the threshold, the chair stops dead, catapulting Ed on to the veranda. He’s dazed.‘Carolyne, I need your help,’ I shout as I get him a glass of water.She joins me and we sit with Ed in the garden. We wonder whether we should take him to hospital for a check-up.‘I think you’re over-reacting a tad,’ says Ed, by now coming round. ‘Well, I don’t think so,’ I say, like an overprotective parent.‘Well, he’s not even living here… officially, is he?’ adds Carolyne. ‘What would you do if he died?’‘What would you have done with me?’ asks Ed, feigning upset.‘Well “they” wouldn’t have found you here,’ I say, marvelling at the callous (and tongue in cheek!) scenario I’m painting of moving his body.We agree it will probably be safe for him to go to bed without a medical examination. He’s only been here for a few days, but he’s already giving us more grief than our three lively children put together. He can’t open a door and turns himself into a one-man fire hazard the moment he is left alone.Wednesday, March 9Ed joins us all for breakfast – so we haven’t killed him, or should I say he hasn’t poisoned himself!
5 year old billed and maybe sued for not turning up at birthday partyhttp://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cornwall-30876360
Quote from: Steve on January 19, 2015, 02:12:55 PM5 year old billed and maybe sued for not turning up at birthday partyhttp://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cornwall-30876360 If I were his parents I'd pay up then name and shame and see how many accept his next invite . . .
