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Vindaloo curry and dogs


old'un
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LOL brill, 

 

worst night morning i had was after a few beers and after a curry in the Full Moon Normanton rd Derby, starter was mixed Shish kebab topped off with a phall as a main. We was well tough in them days, well we thought we were after a few beers, but oh dear the morning after was BAD.  

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Chshshs.  There was no steam.  The worst two  I've ever had was 1. Coming home from Mauritius.   We landed in Nairobi. After we took off the evening meal was issued I  had a smoked marlin salad and lamb with vegetables.  A couple of hours later my stomache was like I  had a rabbit inside.  There were queues to the toilet and I clenched .  Eventually I gained entry and the world fell out of me.  The stench was appalling. It nearly took the plastic off of the walls. I kept pressing the flush button and eventually the load dissapeared.  If might have set fire to the countryside or ships below.  I felt sorry for the next user but the drinks trolley was semi blocking the door and I  could feel a steady flow of air coming through the door opening.  I felt a lot lot better  but it wasn't the end.  when we were waiting for the cases the stomache turned again.  every cubicle had a queue. I was in a desperate state. The  like at the front of my queue didn't know whether he wanted a shave or a.... I had no option and I hobbled start past into the cubicle.  Again the flush had problems.  My stomache was in a bad way for several weeks.  Number 2 was a collision between a bowl of prawn cocktail and the bedsheets.  We had to shower and all the bedding sheets changed.  I wasn't popular.  Not my fault it was the prawns. Both were worthy of a dodgy kebab etc 

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1 hour ago, Minky said:

Chshshs.  There was no steam.  The worst two  I've ever had was 1. Coming home from Mauritius.   We landed in Nairobi. After we took off the evening meal was issued I  had a smoked marlin salad and lamb with vegetables.  A couple of hours later my stomache was like I  had a rabbit inside.  There were queues to the toilet and I clenched .  Eventually I gained entry and the world fell out of me.  The stench was appalling. It nearly took the plastic off of the walls. I kept pressing the flush button and eventually the load dissapeared.  If might have set fire to the countryside or ships below.  I felt sorry for the next user but the drinks trolley was semi blocking the door and I  could feel a steady flow of air coming through the door opening.  I felt a lot lot better  but it wasn't the end.  when we were waiting for the cases the stomache turned again.  every cubicle had a queue. I was in a desperate state. The  like at the front of my queue didn't know whether he wanted a shave or a.... I had no option and I hobbled start past into the cubicle.  Again the flush had problems.  My stomache was in a bad way for several weeks.  Number 2 was a collision between a bowl of prawn cocktail and the bedsheets.  We had to shower and all the bedding sheets changed.  I wasn't popular.  Not my fault it was the prawns. Both were worthy of a dodgy kebab etc 

😂😂 we flew to Thailand on a Sunday Saturday night I thought it would be a good idea to get in the holiday spirit & went to the pub with my father in law we had around 4 or 5 pints of Guinness in the pub then back to there's to stay over /  a lift to airport in the morning from the mother in law . Took a kebab as a late evening meal  got into the house fire on warming up for a couple night caps managed to get through a bottle of single malt between us got to the airport the next day still absolutely steaming couldn't even look at a pint boarded the plane still half cut a afternoon meal comes around got through that no bother the cabin lights dull so must be getting on then it happens the rumble & then the cold sweats looks over to the toilets short que I tried putting it off noeing I was about to absolutely destroy the bog bubble bubble moan ache pain . I'm off had to wait for three people but managed to hold off. Get inside & on the job its pouring out of me like draining a old rusty raditor I've gone weak I've got the sweats the ****s & the job of trying to mask this stink for the next user/victim . Was on this job for a solid 25 minute with the world falling out of my **** somewhere over Europe. Pulled myself together sent the aftermath to its doom with the flush button washed my hands & wet my face. Opened the door couldn't even make eye contact with the next person waiting went back to my seat still shakey kept my head down the rest of the flight. It should of been a warning tho street food in Thailand curries made with majority coconut milk, larger & the humidity there were days I was scared to leave the room which was only 5 minutes walk to the pool ....never again 

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What follows is a story relayed to me by my brother who swears blind it's the truth, either way I found it funny .

On one of the big sites where my brother was working they had a subby bricky working who insisted on bringing his terrier to work with him in the van and allowing him the free run of the site during the day, the dog was pleasant mannered and friendly to all, well trained and even picked a remote spot away from the main activity to claim as it's toilet. All was well except the little sod was a compulsive food thief, the first few days he went through all the lads bags tearing open anything tasty, this caused a bit of friction. Words where exchanged, promises made but the little guy continued to raid the lads lunches, the subby refused to leave the dog home or keep him in the van only to be let out at break, stronger lunch boxes where purchased, bags where hung from coat pegs but this little guy was persistent. After a particular eventful raid that included the theft and destruction of birthday cake brought in to be shared it was put to the subby that either the dog stayed in the van or he'd end up in the foundations of the next plot. The dog was subsequently put on jankers, and confined to the van. The following morning the subby arrived in a car instead of his van, erupted from the door and charged into the hut, ******* and blinding demanded to know who had "dosed" his dog, the air was blue, the accusations wild, vets bills and valeting charges would be claimed. He was ushered out by the site manager who insisted he'd deal with it. When the SM returned he was in tears, he relayed to room the events of the subbys journey home. 

It transpires that at some point the previous day persons unknown had taken advantage of the air gap left in the subbys window for the dog to slip the little fellow some treats, and those treats I am reliably informed were SPICY CHILLI BILLTONG..... 

Apparently when the subby jumped in to leave that night he had no idea of the hell about to unfold on him, curled up on the passenger seat the little bin rat let go his first parp and with no *** cheeks to clap the noise apparently resembled a swiftly ripping newspaper, the dog was startled the subby stunned, then the smell hit him, it burnt his nose, stung his eyes and when he tried to breath through his mouth he tasted it instead, urging he desperately clawed at the window buttons but the poor dog was already circling on the seat growling at its own butt, parp two made it yelp, back legs were raised as it dragged itself round in small circles on the passenger seat howling, the subby put his foot down, desperate to get home and escape the slowly darkening mustard coloured ring that was forming on the passenger seat with each lap his little precious completed. Attempting to break the land speed record for a transit the subby launched out over Woodford bridge hill (a 1in3 that is a genuine roller coast of a drop) the sudden change in altitude was to much for pup and his chargrilled little ring failed. Already circling the seat at speed the result was akin to removing the lid from **** filled blender, seat, door cards, dash, air vents, subbys lap, everything received an atomised aerosol attack of liquid mustard gas and chunks. With nowhere dry to curl up and shiver his side he sought refuge in the subbys lap, cue the remodelling of the dashboard, footwell and subbys shirt, enraged, repulsed and defiled the subby launched the dog over the bulkhead, with space to run, nothing was safe in the rear. 

The subby claimed his van was virtually written off, his tools unusable and his dog traumatized. 

Moral of the story, don't let your dog nick a builders birthday cake.

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21 minutes ago, oneshot1979 said:

What follows is a story relayed to me by my brother who swears blind it's the truth, either way I found it funny .

On one of the big sites where my brother was working they had a subby bricky working who insisted on bringing his terrier to work with him in the van and allowing him the free run of the site during the day, the dog was pleasant mannered and friendly to all, well trained and even picked a remote spot away from the main activity to claim as it's toilet. All was well except the little sod was a compulsive food thief, the first few days he went through all the lads bags tearing open anything tasty, this caused a bit of friction. Words where exchanged, promises made but the little guy continued to raid the lads lunches, the subby refused to leave the dog home or keep him in the van only to be let out at break, stronger lunch boxes where purchased, bags where hung from coat pegs but this little guy was persistent. After a particular eventful raid that included the theft and destruction of birthday cake brought in to be shared it was put to the subby that either the dog stayed in the van or he'd end up in the foundations of the next plot. The dog was subsequently put on jankers, and confined to the van. The following morning the subby arrived in a car instead of his van, erupted from the door and charged into the hut, ******* and blinding demanded to know who had "dosed" his dog, the air was blue, the accusations wild, vets bills and valeting charges would be claimed. He was ushered out by the site manager who insisted he'd deal with it. When the SM returned he was in tears, he relayed to room the events of the subbys journey home. 

It transpires that at some point the previous day persons unknown had taken advantage of the air gap left in the subbys window for the dog to slip the little fellow some treats, and those treats I am reliably informed were SPICY CHILLI BILLTONG..... 

Apparently when the subby jumped in to leave that night he had no idea of the hell about to unfold on him, curled up on the passenger seat the little bin rat let go his first parp and with no *** cheeks to clap the noise apparently resembled a swiftly ripping newspaper, the dog was startled the subby stunned, then the smell hit him, it burnt his nose, stung his eyes and when he tried to breath through his mouth he tasted it instead, urging he desperately clawed at the window buttons but the poor dog was already circling on the seat growling at its own butt, parp two made it yelp, back legs were raised as it dragged itself round in small circles on the passenger seat howling, the subby put his foot down, desperate to get home and escape the slowly darkening mustard coloured ring that was forming on the passenger seat with each lap his little precious completed. Attempting to break the land speed record for a transit the subby launched out over Woodford bridge hill (a 1in3 that is a genuine roller coast of a drop) the sudden change in altitude was to much for pup and his chargrilled little ring failed. Already circling the seat at speed the result was akin to removing the lid from **** filled blender, seat, door cards, dash, air vents, subbys lap, everything received an atomised aerosol attack of liquid mustard gas and chunks. With nowhere dry to curl up and shiver his side he sought refuge in the subbys lap, cue the remodelling of the dashboard, footwell and subbys shirt, enraged, repulsed and defiled the subby launched the dog over the bulkhead, with space to run, nothing was safe in the rear. 

The subby claimed his van was virtually written off, his tools unusable and his dog traumatized. 

Moral of the story, don't let your dog nick a builders birthday cake.

Absolutely brilliant one shot, very very well written.

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25 minutes ago, oneshot1979 said:

What follows is a story relayed to me by my brother who swears blind it's the truth, either way I found it funny .

On one of the big sites where my brother was working they had a subby bricky working who insisted on bringing his terrier to work with him in the van and allowing him the free run of the site during the day, the dog was pleasant mannered and friendly to all, well trained and even picked a remote spot away from the main activity to claim as it's toilet. All was well except the little sod was a compulsive food thief, the first few days he went through all the lads bags tearing open anything tasty, this caused a bit of friction. Words where exchanged, promises made but the little guy continued to raid the lads lunches, the subby refused to leave the dog home or keep him in the van only to be let out at break, stronger lunch boxes where purchased, bags where hung from coat pegs but this little guy was persistent. After a particular eventful raid that included the theft and destruction of birthday cake brought in to be shared it was put to the subby that either the dog stayed in the van or he'd end up in the foundations of the next plot. The dog was subsequently put on jankers, and confined to the van. The following morning the subby arrived in a car instead of his van, erupted from the door and charged into the hut, ******* and blinding demanded to know who had "dosed" his dog, the air was blue, the accusations wild, vets bills and valeting charges would be claimed. He was ushered out by the site manager who insisted he'd deal with it. When the SM returned he was in tears, he relayed to room the events of the subbys journey home. 

It transpires that at some point the previous day persons unknown had taken advantage of the air gap left in the subbys window for the dog to slip the little fellow some treats, and those treats I am reliably informed were SPICY CHILLI BILLTONG..... 

Apparently when the subby jumped in to leave that night he had no idea of the hell about to unfold on him, curled up on the passenger seat the little bin rat let go his first parp and with no *** cheeks to clap the noise apparently resembled a swiftly ripping newspaper, the dog was startled the subby stunned, then the smell hit him, it burnt his nose, stung his eyes and when he tried to breath through his mouth he tasted it instead, urging he desperately clawed at the window buttons but the poor dog was already circling on the seat growling at its own butt, parp two made it yelp, back legs were raised as it dragged itself round in small circles on the passenger seat howling, the subby put his foot down, desperate to get home and escape the slowly darkening mustard coloured ring that was forming on the passenger seat with each lap his little precious completed. Attempting to break the land speed record for a transit the subby launched out over Woodford bridge hill (a 1in3 that is a genuine roller coast of a drop) the sudden change in altitude was to much for pup and his chargrilled little ring failed. Already circling the seat at speed the result was akin to removing the lid from **** filled blender, seat, door cards, dash, air vents, subbys lap, everything received an atomised aerosol attack of liquid mustard gas and chunks. With nowhere dry to curl up and shiver his side he sought refuge in the subbys lap, cue the remodelling of the dashboard, footwell and subbys shirt, enraged, repulsed and defiled the subby launched the dog over the bulkhead, with space to run, nothing was safe in the rear. 

The subby claimed his van was virtually written off, his tools unusable and his dog traumatized. 

Moral of the story, don't let your dog nick a builders birthday cake.

Brilliant

 

26 minutes ago, oneshot1979 said:

What follows is a story relayed to me by my brother who swears blind it's the truth, either way I found it funny .

On one of the big sites where my brother was working they had a subby bricky working who insisted on bringing his terrier to work with him in the van and allowing him the free run of the site during the day, the dog was pleasant mannered and friendly to all, well trained and even picked a remote spot away from the main activity to claim as it's toilet. All was well except the little sod was a compulsive food thief, the first few days he went through all the lads bags tearing open anything tasty, this caused a bit of friction. Words where exchanged, promises made but the little guy continued to raid the lads lunches, the subby refused to leave the dog home or keep him in the van only to be let out at break, stronger lunch boxes where purchased, bags where hung from coat pegs but this little guy was persistent. After a particular eventful raid that included the theft and destruction of birthday cake brought in to be shared it was put to the subby that either the dog stayed in the van or he'd end up in the foundations of the next plot. The dog was subsequently put on jankers, and confined to the van. The following morning the subby arrived in a car instead of his van, erupted from the door and charged into the hut, ******* and blinding demanded to know who had "dosed" his dog, the air was blue, the accusations wild, vets bills and valeting charges would be claimed. He was ushered out by the site manager who insisted he'd deal with it. When the SM returned he was in tears, he relayed to room the events of the subbys journey home. 

It transpires that at some point the previous day persons unknown had taken advantage of the air gap left in the subbys window for the dog to slip the little fellow some treats, and those treats I am reliably informed were SPICY CHILLI BILLTONG..... 

Apparently when the subby jumped in to leave that night he had no idea of the hell about to unfold on him, curled up on the passenger seat the little bin rat let go his first parp and with no *** cheeks to clap the noise apparently resembled a swiftly ripping newspaper, the dog was startled the subby stunned, then the smell hit him, it burnt his nose, stung his eyes and when he tried to breath through his mouth he tasted it instead, urging he desperately clawed at the window buttons but the poor dog was already circling on the seat growling at its own butt, parp two made it yelp, back legs were raised as it dragged itself round in small circles on the passenger seat howling, the subby put his foot down, desperate to get home and escape the slowly darkening mustard coloured ring that was forming on the passenger seat with each lap his little precious completed. Attempting to break the land speed record for a transit the subby launched out over Woodford bridge hill (a 1in3 that is a genuine roller coast of a drop) the sudden change in altitude was to much for pup and his chargrilled little ring failed. Already circling the seat at speed the result was akin to removing the lid from **** filled blender, seat, door cards, dash, air vents, subbys lap, everything received an atomised aerosol attack of liquid mustard gas and chunks. With nowhere dry to curl up and shiver his side he sought refuge in the subbys lap, cue the remodelling of the dashboard, footwell and subbys shirt, enraged, repulsed and defiled the subby launched the dog over the bulkhead, with space to run, nothing was safe in the rear. 

The subby claimed his van was virtually written off, his tools unusable and his dog traumatized. 

Moral of the story, don't let your dog nick a builders birthday cake.

also

1 hour ago, Stephen-H said:

😂😂 we flew to Thailand on a Sunday Saturday night I thought it would be a good idea to get in the holiday spirit & went to the pub with my father in law we had around 4 or 5 pints of Guinness in the pub then back to there's to stay over /  a lift to airport in the morning from the mother in law . Took a kebab as a late evening meal  got into the house fire on warming up for a couple night caps managed to get through a bottle of single malt between us got to the airport the next day still absolutely steaming couldn't even look at a pint boarded the plane still half cut a afternoon meal comes around got through that no bother the cabin lights dull so must be getting on then it happens the rumble & then the cold sweats looks over to the toilets short que I tried putting it off noeing I was about to absolutely destroy the bog bubble bubble moan ache pain . I'm off had to wait for three people but managed to hold off. Get inside & on the job its pouring out of me like draining a old rusty raditor I've gone weak I've got the sweats the ****s & the job of trying to mask this stink for the next user/victim . Was on this job for a solid 25 minute with the world falling out of my **** somewhere over Europe. Pulled myself together sent the aftermath to its doom with the flush button washed my hands & wet my face. Opened the door couldn't even make eye contact with the next person waiting went back to my seat still shakey kept my head down the rest of the flight. It should of been a warning tho street food in Thailand curries made with majority coconut milk, larger & the humidity there were days I was scared to leave the room which was only 5 minutes walk to the pool ....never again 

also

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On holiday we went on a trip from Bodrum to Rhodes - well - I had a dose of the Turkey Belly and I ended up in a bit of a to-do - and came across a toilet sign and dashed in - only to be treated with the site of one of those middle-eastern toilets - you know the posh holes in the floor with a bit of porcelain around that you needs to have your marksman's badge to hit but I had the forbearance to realise that what was coming needed confining or there would be casualties - namely me, my clothing and my dignity.

Luckily I was young and could clench for England and found a European toilet a few minutes later at a bar and the wife was drunk by the time I was finished

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Stories about people getting the ****s and punishing the porcelain are some of the most funny things I've listened to it's happened to everyone at some point in there lives & everyone has a experience/memory does make for hilarious tales . When I get chance I will write up my father in laws experience of fybogel & delivery of the poo baby it created 😂

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Brother in law & his wife used to take in foriegn students on exchange to help with the mortgage.  They had some lovely kids stay except for one very arrogant German lad.  Every week Allison used to buy Steve a bar of fruit & nut for the weekend treat.  This German lad went in the fridge and ate the whole bar without asking or being offered.  Steve was so hacked about it he decided to buy the lad a bar of chocolate and give it to him as a farewell present.   As they were getting on the coach back to Dover Steve gave the lad the bar of chocolate and wished him goodbye.   The lad was straight into the bar of chocolate and as the coach pulled away it looked like he had eaten nearly all of it. And was ramming the last in his gob!!! .  What the lad failed to know was that Steve had given him a bar of XLAX.,!! 😆😆😱😨.  Now considering there was a coach trip to Dover... a ferry across to Calais. A long train journey back to Germany  The waiting about in between trip sections and the journey to his home,  I  would imagine that the trip would have been a very miserable experience.  The dose is one or two squares not a whole bar.  A mate of mine said that he had,had a problem and ate one square and it was like a hose.  I bet that poor lads ring was incandescent red by the time he got back to Germany and the best bit is he never knew what caused it or where he got it.  Sea link Ferrys and French rail have a lot to answer for.! 😊😊😁😆. Justice.

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My Dad had a mate who worked in the Gulf driving - he needed to go miles from anywhere so pulled up and dropped his one piece overalls (due to heat this was about all that was worn, crouched down and done his business. Then putting his overalls he done that little shrug to get them over his shoulders to be hit on the back of the head by his business.

As I said - miles from anywhere 🤢

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14 hours ago, oneshot1979 said:

What follows is a story relayed to me by my brother who swears blind it's the truth, either way I found it funny .

On one of the big sites where my brother was working they had a subby bricky working who insisted on bringing his terrier to work with him in the van and allowing him the free run of the site during the day, the dog was pleasant mannered and friendly to all, well trained and even picked a remote spot away from the main activity to claim as it's toilet. All was well except the little sod was a compulsive food thief, the first few days he went through all the lads bags tearing open anything tasty, this caused a bit of friction. Words where exchanged, promises made but the little guy continued to raid the lads lunches, the subby refused to leave the dog home or keep him in the van only to be let out at break, stronger lunch boxes where purchased, bags where hung from coat pegs but this little guy was persistent. After a particular eventful raid that included the theft and destruction of birthday cake brought in to be shared it was put to the subby that either the dog stayed in the van or he'd end up in the foundations of the next plot. The dog was subsequently put on jankers, and confined to the van. The following morning the subby arrived in a car instead of his van, erupted from the door and charged into the hut, ******* and blinding demanded to know who had "dosed" his dog, the air was blue, the accusations wild, vets bills and valeting charges would be claimed. He was ushered out by the site manager who insisted he'd deal with it. When the SM returned he was in tears, he relayed to room the events of the subbys journey home. 

It transpires that at some point the previous day persons unknown had taken advantage of the air gap left in the subbys window for the dog to slip the little fellow some treats, and those treats I am reliably informed were SPICY CHILLI BILLTONG..... 

Apparently when the subby jumped in to leave that night he had no idea of the hell about to unfold on him, curled up on the passenger seat the little bin rat let go his first parp and with no *** cheeks to clap the noise apparently resembled a swiftly ripping newspaper, the dog was startled the subby stunned, then the smell hit him, it burnt his nose, stung his eyes and when he tried to breath through his mouth he tasted it instead, urging he desperately clawed at the window buttons but the poor dog was already circling on the seat growling at its own butt, parp two made it yelp, back legs were raised as it dragged itself round in small circles on the passenger seat howling, the subby put his foot down, desperate to get home and escape the slowly darkening mustard coloured ring that was forming on the passenger seat with each lap his little precious completed. Attempting to break the land speed record for a transit the subby launched out over Woodford bridge hill (a 1in3 that is a genuine roller coast of a drop) the sudden change in altitude was to much for pup and his chargrilled little ring failed. Already circling the seat at speed the result was akin to removing the lid from **** filled blender, seat, door cards, dash, air vents, subbys lap, everything received an atomised aerosol attack of liquid mustard gas and chunks. With nowhere dry to curl up and shiver his side he sought refuge in the subbys lap, cue the remodelling of the dashboard, footwell and subbys shirt, enraged, repulsed and defiled the subby launched the dog over the bulkhead, with space to run, nothing was safe in the rear. 

The subby claimed his van was virtually written off, his tools unusable and his dog traumatized. 

Moral of the story, don't let your dog nick a builders birthday cake.

I know that hill 😆

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Apart from having a best mate who is a complete animal, where as on more than one occasion we've had to cancel our pub crawl halfway because of leakage of *** lava after a raging curry, the worst I'd recall is a occasion where we had a pretty good sesh in town before a day out fishing. What followed the session was a nasty hot garlic chilli chicken curry takeaway. To spice it up, we had some Naga sauce at mine, which is the usual kinda ******** I'd get in a present about Christmas time and never use because 1, it's disgusting, 2, it's so hot it melts your eyes just opening the bottle but anyway we decide to step it up a few notches and slaver the curry in it and tuck in.  After much panting/screaming/drooling/milk/anything cold and promises never to do it again, we all hit the sack and look forward to a day out on our boat the next day. 

Next day rolls about, and boat is launched, were about 2 miles offshore and it happens to him. Deli belly,of the worst kind. With no karsie onboard, his only option is to hang his *** over the side and try and get the worst of it overboard. Great plan, poorly executed. What actually happens is, the beer and curry make a brown waterfall, to which he's not that happy about from the sound of him howling and he looses his grip on the side and falls straight backward into the oil slick he's created. Whilst dealing with the shock of cold,  thousands of sandeels are swarming him eating the ****, and he's scrabbling to get onboard while were pushing him off with the gaff untill he's a bit cleaner. I think we made him swim under the boat, might of dragged him by rope a few meters to help and sit in the corner when he did come aboard. 

Just one of those days. True story. 

 

If you want a hilarious story about curry, YouTube 

The Rock FM, the curry story. Well worth a watch 

 

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