Man packs baked beans to go on holiday.
Airline loses suitcase with baked beans.
Man cries.
Conclusion.
Make friends then you don’t have to go on holiday alone.
Moral.
Baked beans are for losers.
Modern advertisers are clueless
It’s interesting as I walk through Whitechapel tonight, that I’ve noticed Sadiq Khan, the mayor of London, has managed to remove every single British Union Jack flag from lampposts, but the Palestinian flags are still up. Including this one that has been here around two years.
A Pakistani Imam in Italy preached that Muslims "must fight infidels or suffer catastrophic consequences."
The very next day, PM @GiorgiaMeloni moved to deport him, despite his 30 years in Italy.
Do you support her decisive action?
According to these Climate Change fear mongers many towns will have to flee their homes in the coming years due to flooding.
No this is the real reason why we will have flooding as drains like these are the same all over the country.
We pay extortionate amounts of Council Tax & they can’t even be bothered to clear our drains.
Fatal terror attacks in the UK since 1st January 2000.
Total killed: 109
Killed by Islamist terrorists: 96 (+2 unconfirmed)
Please walk me through how people waving British flags, the “far right”, and “divisiveness” are the issues the government is most worried about.
@GoodwinMJ I'm so glad I don't travel to London any more for work.
Repeatedly asking people to move their bags so I could sit down used to really get to me.
People just think of themselves.
*One month before her 95th birthday, Patricia Routledge wrote something that still gently echoes:*
**“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.”**
My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.
At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.
At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.
At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.
At 80, I took up watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.
**I’m writing this to tell you something simple:**
**Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.**
Let these years ahead be your *treasure years*.
You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.
You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.
*With love and gentleness,*
— Patricia Routledge
Sometimes, East End place names explain themselves. For example, Millwall on the western side of the Isle of Dogs was literally a wall of mills built to drain the marshes by Marsh Wall - and the wall on the opposite, eastern side of the loop was painted black - hence Blackwall…