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Who said romance was dead?

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I had a date night with the Bman on Monday on our trip to the cinema to watch ‘Prometheus’.

These are all genuine photos taken on my phone on our romantic walk home from the Cineworld in Bradford.

Sadly I hadn’t thought to begin documenting my salubrious surroundings until I had already passed through the subway bearing the enticing marker pen legend “Nice Brown Cock – 07430 662589”  *

*I made up the number here as I forgot to make a note of it as I was too busy holding my nose inside my jacket to disguise the pungent smell of stale manpiss.

These are blurry as I was jogging slightly because Bman made me hurry-up as he feared the crackheads within may  have been disturbed by the flash.

I expected Eminem to appear at any time singing the theme to ‘8 Mile’.



Wonder where I could get a new mattress? 

Oh fab, here’s one!






All the while we discussed the burning questions that ‘Prometheus’ had presented to us:-  Who engineered the Engineers?  Why did that red haired chick suddenly become French when she hadn’t been as a child?  Why did that AI dude spike that fit dude with that black stuff?  etc etc.

I also tried in vain for the umpteenth time (it is a word, check the dictionary)  to explain to Bman why it’s different for a girl/woman to walk home alone down seedy snickets and dodgy alleys.  No amount of mischief could occur to an unchaperoned female in such a place (as many can testify!)

 I can report that I made it home unmolested. So what with that, and the gargantuan fart that he did when there was only 6 people in the cinema resulting in a somewhat resounding echo; I’m not sure that he would have got a second date!

Derelict places and not even so much as a tit feel or a snog!  I wish I’d written down that number from the subway now, maybe I’d have had more joy! :-p





About TheDHW

Not loathed by totally everyone so that's good right?

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