@Wendoverman said: @Tom and considering my weight, age and lifestyle, you may be overestimating how long I will be able to get to AP and fit through the turnstiles as well.
I'm sure they will let you in the disabled entrance should you be unable to kick your hedonic hyperphagia!
@Onlooker said:
Comment above from @Wendoverman prompted a flash back. Was the turnstile to enter the terrace installed upside down? It used to feel very 'unnatural' passing through. As if there wasn't quite enough room.
I have always put down my increasing difficulty in passing through the turnstiles on my rare visits to AP as being due to them being left exposed to the elements and having shrunk as a result. can't think of any other credible explanation.
@Wendoverman said: @Tom and considering my weight, age and lifestyle, you may be overestimating how long I will be able to get to AP and fit through the turnstiles as well.
I'm sure they will let you in the disabled entrance should you be unable to kick your hedonic hyperphagia!
I look forward to the day a bariatric ambulance will deliver me to the specially widened entrance through which I drive my electric fatty wagon (lap piled high with crisps and fizzy drinks) scattering tutting walking fans whilst glaring at them with my piggy eyes as i trundle to to a plum elevated porkies parking section in the Beechdean to watch us take on Barcelona. As will be my human right!
Turnstiles aren't always the easiest to get through as a skinny bastad, so I'm always curious how some of our more generously enamoured friends get on.
Comments
I'm sure they will let you in the disabled entrance should you be unable to kick your hedonic hyperphagia!
I have always put down my increasing difficulty in passing through the turnstiles on my rare visits to AP as being due to them being left exposed to the elements and having shrunk as a result. can't think of any other credible explanation.
I look forward to the day a bariatric ambulance will deliver me to the specially widened entrance through which I drive my electric fatty wagon (lap piled high with crisps and fizzy drinks) scattering tutting walking fans whilst glaring at them with my piggy eyes as i trundle to to a plum elevated porkies parking section in the Beechdean to watch us take on Barcelona. As will be my human right!
Turnstiles aren't always the easiest to get through as a skinny bastad, so I'm always curious how some of our more generously enamoured friends get on.