PUB KITCHEN TABLE SETS : VENETIAN GLASS TABLES.
Pub Kitchen Table Sets
- A group or collection of things that belong together, resemble one another, or are usually found together
- (set) put: put into a certain place or abstract location; "Put your things here"; "Set the tray down"; "Set the dogs on the scent of the missing children"; "Place emphasis on a certain point"
- (set) a group of things of the same kind that belong together and are so used; "a set of books"; "a set of golf clubs"; "a set of teeth"
- A collection of implements, containers, or other objects customarily used together for a specific purpose
- A group of people with common interests or occupations or of similar social status
- (set) fit(p): (usually followed by `to' or `for') on the point of or strongly disposed; "in no fit state to continue"; "fit to drop"; "laughing fit to burst"; "she was fit to scream"; "primed for a fight"; "we are set to go at any time"
- A public house, informally known as a pub and sometimes referred to as the 'local', is an establishment licensed to serve alcoholic drinks for consumption on the premises in countries and regions of British influence. Britannica.com; Subscription Required. Retrieved 03-07-08.
- Microsoft Publisher, formerly Microsoft Office Publisher, is a desktop publishing application from Microsoft. It is an entry-level application, differing from Microsoft Word in that the emphasis is placed on page layout and design rather than text composition and proofing.
- A hotel
- public house: tavern consisting of a building with a bar and public rooms; often provides light meals
- A tavern or bar
pub kitchen table sets - 5pc Counter
5pc Counter Height Dining Table and Stools Pub Set in Black Finish
You will receive a total of 1 counter height dining table and 4 stools.
Table: 36"W x 36"D x 36"H
Stools: 17 1/4"W x 13 1/2"D x 23"H
Material: Wood, Veneer
5pc Counter Height Dining Table and Stools Pub Set in Black Finish
This stylish counter height pub table set will be a welcome addition to your home.
Smooth square table top rests above square tapered legs.
Four matching backless bar stools feature comfortable curved wooden seats, and sleek legs.
Add this dining set to your casual dining and entertainment room for a fun space where friends and family will love to gather.
Also available in dark walnut, oak and black, and white finish.
Simple Assembly required.
the friciton of fiction, chpt. VI
Warning: Mature content VI THE DINGUS “It’s broken.” Or at least it seemed to be, though at the moment, Art was not entirely sure just what “it” was he was looking at, resting idly atop the scared coffee table. How it had become broken in the first place, if in fact it was actually broken at all, was still yet an enigma. It had not escaped the slowly turning cogs of his half awake mind that he was not fully clear on how he‘d come into possession of it to begin with, though there had been some speculation. The fact that “it” must have been terribly valuable had settled into his mind quite early. He’d figured it’s worth must have ranged in the high six or seven zero figure digits, even before Pike had mentioned that he‘d have to cut Art‘s balls off and feed them to him threw a straw, if anything were to happen to it. Whatever the case was, “it” and everything mysterious and unknown revolving around it had been the primary focus of most if not all of Art’s heavier gray matter burning for the better part of the last two and a half hours. He’d awoken in a foggy haze, on a couch unfamiliar to him, in the living room of a strangers home, with no real recollection of where he’d been the night before, or whom he’d spent that time with. It was a fare beat judging by the stink of cigarette smoke on his favorite “Billabong“ shirt, the throbbing headache, and the urge to vomit the moment Pike had offered him a cold breakfast sandwich, that he had more then likely been out bar hopping in more then just a few of the more questionable speak easies around town, assuming he was in fact in a town at all. An answer to that question was still an easy hour off, as he’d had absolutely no interest in attempting to draw back the bed sheet that was hanging over the living room window, until such a time as the sun was no longer hitting it directly. Pike had offered little aid in piecing the puzzle together. No sooner had Art awoken with the stale smell of dry biscuit and cold ham shoved in his face, then he had been riddled with a rudimentary series of questions from the lanky mutt. Questions as to why “it” was still sitting out on the coffee table in plane sight for any jack off passing by to take for his own, or how far exactly he’d had his head up his ass the night before, when he’d brushed off the bitch that had started rubbing his dick. Refusing the stale sandwich with a polite “Fuck off”, Pike had eaten it for himself, saying only “Suit yourself”. Then he’d made a hasty bee line for the front door, mumbling through a mouthful of crusty biscuit about a call from “The Suit“, and a parlay with the other six losers they were going to be getting in to bed with, sometime later on in the after noon. He’d planned the hook up to take place in an old pub on the West side of Olympus Mons, and the Crate Steam mines, as near as Art could figure, which was odd as Pike informed him, it had been he who had laid out the details of the gathering in the first place. None of it was sinking in. Two and half hours later, and Art was still polished off the twelve cups of stout coffee he’d brewed up for himself shortly after Pike had departed. As near as he could figure there really didn’t seem be any rush in the department of getting himself sorted out, regardless of how irritated Pike had seemed by his inability to rise with the day. The fact that it was usually he pressing Pike to rise, had not escaped him, and in a way he’d found it rather pleasing to get under his new companions skin in such a fashion. While the mound of pornographic paraphernalia stacked clumsily atop the recliner adjacent to the couch had not at the time drawn his interest, nor the living room window for that matter, clarity had in a fashion returned to him in the form of hunger, and the desire to feed. After pounding three aspirin, dry, he’d flexuously made his way into the kitchen. A quick search, and he’d located a box of packaged oatmeal at the back of a baron cupboard, along with a small stack of discarded coffee filters, and a small can of freeze dried gut rot. The refrigerator had yielded a half gallon of expired milk, and little else. While expired according to the label, as near as Art could figure the milk still seemed to smell alright, and with that he‘d had a good chug, before poring a portion into the package of oatmeal. With the soggy, cold, milk soaked oatmeal in one hand, he then pored out the last of the coffee into a dirty cup, and returned to the living room. Sinking back onto the couch, Art slurped down the watery oatmeal substance with four healthy gulps, before tossing the empty package aside. He wasn’t sure who’s home it was he was occupying, but considering the state of the place, he figure one more discarded oatmeal package would make little difference. Then their was a deep sigh from Art, before a sip of very black coffee, by way of a dirty cup, that had more then likely been used to catch a money shot. It was time to get down to business, and
New York, New York
Times Square, NY, 2006. I was in a musical which did a tour round schools in Boston, & then we spent a few days in NY. My family were on the trip too, so one night they came & picked me & my friend, Lauren, up from the hostel we were staying in and took us out for the evening. We went to an Irish pub & walked about & went to the cinema to see Ice Age 2. We thought it was really weird that the audience clapped at the funny parts. I was taking photos as we walked about, so some of them are quite zoomed & blurry. Oh & then this hopeless guy was trying to fix my computer a few months later & he wiped all of the photos from this trip. The only reason I still have any of them is because I'd uploaded some low resolution versions onto a website. Sunday: I luckily set 2 alarms today, as I completely ignored the 10pm alarm & switched it right off. My phone got me up at 10.30pm & I took about 30 more mins just waking up. The house was so quiet when I emerged, & my throat was still aching from last night. There was no cereal anywhere in the house, & if I eat bread early in the morning it can make me feel sick. If I wake up in the afternoon & have it then there's no problem, it's just if I wake up early. Also, I can't eat original Haribo because they make me sick too. I learnt that the hard way. Anyway, there were bread rolls left over from the party on Friday, so I had 4 of them & figured that'd keep me going til 6pm. By the time I was dressed & ready to go out my family were just getting up. Everyone acted like nothing had happened. Then Coppinger text me to say he'd overslept & would be 30mins late. Boffey then text because she didn't know what time we'd agreed for rehearsals. So I told them both not to worry & that we'd just meet a bit later. I sat at home & read a book my Dad had recommended to me ("A Month in the Country") & then headed over at 12.30pm to unlock everything & set up the room. Boffey arrived at 12.45pm with Lizzie, who'd driven her over, & they both helped move the tables. I chatted to Boffey for a while, & she said that even though she hadn't been expecting to go to Hull she was really enjoying it there, & she'd also seen Nicci looking round at Christmas. & then we just talked about lots of random things until Lizzie took off, & then I ran lines with Boffey. Coppinger said he'd be there by 12.30pm, but had then sent a text saying he his brother had to come to school with him too so he'd have to wait for him too. By 1.15pm he still hadn't arrived & wasn't answering his phone. He arrived at 1.30pm, apologising for his brother making him even later & his battery dying. I told them to go to lunch but Boffey wouldn't, so in the end I said I'd give them money for the venders if they wanted something later. We were starting to rehearse when my Dad arrived, & he really helped to improve some of the parts with Boffey seducing Coppinger. He watched all of Boffey & Dom's scenes & suggested improvements, & then said he'd give me a lift to town after rehearsals so I could get some credit for my phone. After he left we went over lines again, but the whole thing was lacking energy. Boffey seemed to be just as annoyed with Vicky as I was, & we were all lacking energy. It was just a tedious day. I let them go 2 hours early as without Vicky we were down about half of the scenes that we could rehearse. It was raining & I hadn't brought a hoodie with me this morning, so I called my Dad to pick me up & take me into town. My Mom answered & said my Dad was in the garden, & when I asked to speak to him she asked why. I thought this was rather rude. If she calls home to speak to someone I don't demand to know why. I couldn't tell her it was no reason, so I resigned myself to telling her the actual reason, at which point she said she'd do it. Surely she knew I wanted time away from her right now? & that having to spend time with her in a confined space would be of no help? But it's not like I could say that to her, so I waited for her to pick me up & wished I'd just walked home & got soaked & asked my Dad for a ride face to face. In town we went to Spar & I got ?10 credit & cereal - ?2.85 for a small box. Ridiculous. Then my Mom threw some of her own shopping in. I was already vaguely annoyed that I was having to buy my own cereal - doesn't that fall into family expenses? My Mom agreed to reimburse me for everything but the cereal & the credit. I don't mind paying for my credit, but it's always nice when my Dad buys it for me. Sometimes I manage to get my Mom to buy it at the same time as something else. In the car I was starving but my Mom said we were having Sunday dinner later on. I have no idea why I admitted this (I think had just turned my filters off) & I told her about the fact that I don't really like Sunday dinne