Pots & plax.

29/04/2026

09/03/2026

25/12/2025

MERRY CHRISTMAS
EVERYONE X

11/04/2025

10 YEARS MARRIED TODAY AND I STILL LOVE AND ADORE MY WIFE ,LOVER, BEST FRIEND AND SUPPORT .
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MY LOVE XX

29/01/2025

┏┳┓🍀🌿🍀🌲🌺🐆
┊┃hanks to you 🍁🍂
┊┻

29/01/2025

The snake bit the hen, and with the poison burning in her body, she sought refuge in her henhouse.

But the other hens preferred to expel her so that the poison would not spread.

The hen limped away, crying in pain. Not because of the bite, but because of the abandonment and contempt of her own family at the time when she needed them most.

So she left... burning with fever, dragging one of her legs, vulnerable to the cold nights.

With each step, a tear fell.

The hens in the henhouse watched her go away, watching her disappear on the horizon. Some said to each other:

— Let her go... She will die far from us.

And when the hen finally vanished into the immensity of the horizon, they were all sure that she had died.

Some even looked at the sky, hoping to see vultures flying.
Time passed.

Much later, a hummingbird came to the henhouse and announced:

— Your sister is alive! She lives in a cave far away from here.

She recovered, but lost a leg from the snake bite.
She has trouble finding food and needs your help.

There was silence. Then the excuses began:

— I can't go, I'm laying eggs...

— I can't go, I'm looking for corn...

— I can't go, I have to take care of my chicks...

So, one by one, they all refused the request. The hummingbird returned to the cave without help.

Time passed again.

Much later, the hummingbird returned, but this time with painful news:

— Your sister has passed away... She died alone in the cave... There is no one to bury her or mourn her.

At that moment, a weight fell on everyone. A deep lament filled the henhouse.

Those who were laying eggs stopped.

Those who were looking for corn left the seeds.

Those who were caring for the chicks forgot about them for a moment.

Regret hurt more than any poison. Why didn't we go before?, they asked themselves.

And without measuring the distance or the effort, they all set off for the cave, crying and lamenting. Now they had a reason to see her, but it was too late.

When they got to the cave, they didn't find the hen... They only found a letter that said:

"In life, many times people don't cross the street to help you when you're alive, but they cross the world to bury you when you die.

And most of the tears at funerals are not from pain, but from remorse and regret."
Thats why im not having a funeral. No service no flowers, why would i want people who i never met saying things about me.
And those who turned their backbon me saying how muchvthey cared, tell me with words not flowers.

27/01/2025

Can we still call ourselves Londoners if we no longer live there. I, for one, always reply when asked where I am from; London. I never say where I have lived since. This is because we are shaped, influenced, socialised, educated and moulded by places, experiences, family and the cultural norms that are practiced where we are raised and I believe that if you grew up in London pre 1980, you would have experienced the last of what we know as the London working class. In fact, the three classes were very defined by where they lived, what they did for a living and what school they went to. These classes are no longer so clearly separated and I think that lessens the sense of belonging in any community. We was poor, everyone around us was poor. We had hand me down clothes, holidays were days trips to the seaside, Dad worked, mum kept the house and children clean and tidy, we didn’t own cars, but used the Routemasters and the tube. We knew where we stood because the boundaries were enforced by discipline, no naughty step, but a clip round the ear or a stern Gertcha, and so were never confused as to who was in charge and what was expected of us. That is true of the working classes across the country, but being from London was something special and I believe it sets us apart in more ways than just the way we speak.

01/01/2025

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE XX

06/12/2024

Do you remember snogging under the mistletoe in the pub with someone you've only just met and anyone else that was willing, three parts cut, singing along to Slade with not a care in the world. Oh the days of old, when men drank bitter, ladies had a cinzano and lemonade and all was right with the world if you had a couple of bob in yer pocket. Next day, an 'air of the dog and a few embarrassed glances at the recipients of yer festive passion, but no harm done, just a bit of fun. Today, we live in a sanitised world with a chastity belt of restrictions. Passion, fun, laughter, has all been taken from us. So I say, give that man/woman a snog, give it large, say hell to fear and have yourself a very Merry Christmas.