Archives for posts with tag: poo stories

A morning out the office putting up signs and pollution monitors.

Second date. Lots of poo stories. Ideal.

Kissing. And being sober enough to remember the kissing.

(Beautiful illustration by Emilie Beckher)

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A day of embroidery and podcasts by the radiator. I’m so proud of the boat logo on dad’s t-shirt. 

Becky’s 30th. Mainly chatting to Robyn about poo stories and her throwing up in her sleeve at a wedding. So funny.

Mum’s videos of the ducks, sliding about all over the ice.

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Poo stories. My friend sharted and then I farted loudly in yoga. Too many laughs.
A coffee and a book. By myself, for myself.
I touched a genuine bar of gold.