Earlier today I emptied my ashtray into the kitchen bin, but it slipped and fell into the bin

So went to get it out and it has disappeared

Literally disappeared

It's not in the bin, behind the bin around the bin or broken in pieces?

3 others have checked to and it's simply not there?

Vanished

where the jeff has it gone?

you bin drinkin

timeline shift dawny


www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread543749/pg1

Same place as your lighter. Jhado nicked it.

I bet it is Jhado

Let me get this straight...not only is your bedroom haunted, but your bin is now an inter-dimensional portal?

Girl, you need to MOVE.

sunday?......one of those "thou shalt not on the Sabbath"?
In the meantime...use a saucer!

give up smoking

scaltura wrote:
good pun

honestly though it's just vanished ? and a random ball has turned up that I haven't seen for about 7 years and thought we had lost the last time we moved?

My kitchen is haunted....

just noticed


your cat has returned the ball and fuked off oot the back to smoke yer douts

dawnbreak wrote:

wants to i've been a naughty boy


outcome

I'll be putting you on the naughty step

Thought this was going to be another Gareth Icke video, but instead of straws, ashtrays

It fell inside that box dawn

Have you still got that haunted coat too, Dawn? Check if it's in one of the pockets.

Was your ashtray shiny? Perhaps a magpie took it? I must confess, i've scrounged round many a ashtray when desperate.. But it wasn't me this time, honest.

I found my good lighter this week, that's been missing for abut 4 months, in my husband's sock drawer.

Yet it's me who puts the clean socks in there, and I never saw it there before. He says it's nowt to do with him - it's effeminate anyway, so he wouldn't use it.

This kind of thing is quite commonplace around our house.

You'll find it in the washing machine when you least expect to, I shouldn't wonder.

Get on the e-cigs no ashtray, no lighters, no smell, no mess, no little holes in clothes where you've dropped a bit of burning ash.

Gilly wrote:
Every time you write something like this, I picture you and Mr Gilly like this:



...except Mr Gilly wouldn't be drying. Obviously, lest he be seen as effeminate.