Hell is

Hell is a seaside town with incontinent seagulls

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Hell is a seaside town with inconsiderate people who feed the gulls

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Hell isā€¦.

ā€¦ā€¦going into a restaurant where some of your favourite tracks from your formative years are massacred by some pianist as background Muzak

ā€¦ā€¦having someone do an AV demo banging on about sound quality when there clearly isnā€™t any

ā€¦ā€¦buying new kit only to find you donā€™t have all the connectors, and itā€™s Sunday so nothingā€™s open

ā€¦ā€¦dealing with an automotive main dealer who has no clue how to fix your car.

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Funnily enough I saw a couple pouring bags of bread or something onto the pavement to feed dozens of not hundreds of seagulls as I drove home the other night, as I passed they took flight and how none of the birds hit my car I have no idea.

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For all we know hell might be ā€¦ living the life of a starving gull :wink:

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Or the life of an incontinent seagull

Friendly neighbourhood wood pigeon:

Such is the reward for parking beneath the ā€˜tree of doomā€™. Trouble is there are now several of them!

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Hell is not having a clue what heaven really is and vice versa

Intolerant peopleā€¦ I really canā€™t stand them!

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I am much the same Mike, regarding this. I find I am more understanding, with a higher level of empathy at 67, and have been for quite a few years now. And Iā€™m quite adept at tuning out disturbances.

Iā€™ve always avoided judging others, thatā€™s an easy one, and after all these years, Iā€™ve experienced great highs and great lows, so I can usually imagine what others are dealing with in their situations.

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I canā€™t be bothered by other peopleā€™s kids anymore. I was in a flight sometime ago and there was a couple with a young crying kid for more or less the entire flight. The couple tried too hard to get the kid silent therefor the kid stressed out even more. It made me smile.

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Iā€™m not sure about hell, but on the theme of dogs and inconsiderate owners, I hate (not a word I use lightly) having to scrape and rinse dog poo out of the treads of running shoes having stepped in the stuff.

Iā€™m not too keen on bags of poo left by the edge of the lane or flung in the hedgerow either.

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Not really Hell,
But 1 more month of work before i take early retirement,
I really cant wait :clock1::clock2::clock3::clock4::clock5::clock6::clock7::clock8::clock9::clock10::clock11::clock12:

:partying_face:

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I took early retirement 8 years ago, and Mrs. G. has recently taken early retirement (NHS doctor and nurse), and itā€™s sheer hell I tell you.

Crawling out of bed whenever we feel like it, enjoying ourselves in foreign countries, learning new skills and generally not having to worry about anything or anyone else for the first time since we were both kids. Also having money and all the time in the world is very special.

Pure hell, and we love it.

I wish you well in your upcoming retirement!

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Hell isā€¦

Listening to some uber audiophile droning on about speakers and exotic wood and industrial diamonds and grounding and all sorts of unbelievably boring stuff in the most unbelievably boring monotone voice.

I mean, listen to this guy. (Well, both of them really, but particularly the interviewee.)

Andā€¦ andā€¦ just wait til you see the spacial sextet. Itā€™s right here:

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The loathsome mess left on the pavements by the disgusting people who smoke cigarettes .

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I have to pick up my neighbourā€™s fags that have blown to the end of my drive after she has dropped them on the ground outside her house.
:angry:

Moving house.

Never gets any easier.

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My father in law used to smoke cigarettes even though he had been told urgently to stop for health reasons. So we knew to go and clear up the cigarette ends under the toilet window after they had been staying with us overnight. And at his funeral, his erstwhile boss told me that he used to smoke in the office (people did in those days), but only if no-one was there to tell him off. If someone came in then he used to put the lighted cigarette in his desk drawer and forget about it. As soon as he left the office to go home, whoever was about would check that drawer. And twice they found gently smouldering papers.

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Piles of stinking litter on my cycling routes, courtesy of thoughtless and selfish drivers. Lucky enough to have endless available miles away from the main thoroughfares, but every so often have to suffer the above. Anyway, just knowing itā€™s there is enough.

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