Same here, but, thankfully, not every time; I get it, occasionally, on another site, too.

56.33ft; 2, 6 & 8 – 55.2ft; T.3 60.0ft; 9 – 56.75ft. All according to Warpaint no.17.

Understood. Thanks!
But it is Euro-diotic.

If they made it simple, they wouldn’t have so much to do to “earn” (hah!) their expenses, and would have time for unimportant things like goal-line technology.

If teams amass the same points, the result, when they played each other, decides the superior team; if their game was drawn, the team having the better goal difference takes precedence.
Of course, if their song is better than your song, and they have more friends in Europe, they will win.

Getting my first bike, a Raleigh Lenton Sports, with the money from working the Christmas post, while still in the Sixth Form at school; had to be at the local Post Office at 4 a.m., Christmas morning, in driving snow, to get a lift to the central sorting office 8 miles away. Still remember an old lady, as I handed over her post, saying, “I can’t give you any money, but would you like an apple?” She never knew what that meant to a cold 16-year-old.
Edgar

I’ve never used The Snowboard Asylum, sorry.

Camm did draw up plans for a Griffon-powered Hurricane, but, presumably due to weight/CofG considerations, it would have meant raking the wing spars forward; he was told, by the Air Minstry to forget it, and concentrate on the Tornado. The drawings could be somewhere, but I’ve never seen them.

Biscuits being displayed in large tins, and the shopkeeper putting the required amount in a paper bag, for us to take home; no fighting your way through three layers of cellophane to get at them.
Buying, from the local grocer, fresh fruit and vegetables, which were already ripe, with none of this “ripen at home” baloney, with which housewives are being conned now.
Having no fridge until I was about 20, and buying foam-rubber covers, which were soaked with water, with which to cover milk bottles, in the (often forlorn) hope that the evaporating water would stop the milk turning sour.
Walking about 50 yards, in all weathers, to use the outside bucket-type toilet, and, when big enough, being given the job of emptying it into the cesspit. Finally, at the age of 25, moving into a house with a flushing toilet.
Buying fireworks, quite openly, at dozens of shops, and having fun with them, without suffering any injury, or causing any damage or disruption to other (adult) lives.
Promising my mother to be home by 8 p.m., then “forgetting,” while I sat in a friend’s house, watching “War in the Air,” on his (black & white) TV.