Actress PhotosTop Photos

Hannah Fry Most Liked Photos and Posts

By GethuCinema Admin

Related Posts

Share This Post

Most liked photo of Hannah Fry with over 81.4K likes is the following photo

Most liked Instagram photo of Hannah Fry
We have around 14 most liked photos of Hannah Fry with the thumbnails listed below. Click on any of them to view the full image along with its caption, like count, and a button to download the photo.

Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Hannah Fry Instagram - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Hannah Fry Instagram - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Hannah Fry Instagram - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Hannah Fry Instagram - Back hosting have I got news for you tonight - and I took exactly zero pictures this time. So you’ll have to make do with the actual show itself, tonight 9pm, BBC1. Enjoy! 🌟🌟 Ps I’ve been using one of them lash serums and I’m pleased to say the non stop three months of itchy eyelids has totally paid off. Causing a hurricane in the South Pacific now every time I blink 💅🏻 #hannahfry
Hannah Fry Instagram - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Hannah Fry Instagram - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Hannah Fry Instagram - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 81.4K Likes - This is my wonderful dad - the last of the Frys - who finally left us a few days ago. I don't know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women - an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer's isn't the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn't about losing your keys and thinking you're in your childhood again. It's so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I've ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man's man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn't demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He'd been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer's took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔

81.4K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : This is my wonderful dad – the last of the Frys – who finally left us a few days ago. I don’t know if you can tell from the photos, but my dad was so British. He liked only fools and horses and pebble beaches and food without any flavour, like bread and butter pudding and gammon egg and chips. He spent his childhood hiding from the blitz in a cage under his kitchen table, and from teachers and policemen while playing truant from school. His youth, he spent covered in motorbike grease and oil, spray painting cars against a soundtrack of Pink Floyd. And his adulthood surrounded by women – an entire dynasty of female only descendants. Alzheimer’s isn’t the disease people like to pretend it is. It isn’t about losing your keys and thinking you’re in your childhood again. It’s so, so much crueller and more horrifying than that. But i remember him before, when my dad was smarter than at least half of the professors I’ve ever met, and more capable at building things and fixing things and inventing things than practically anyone. He was a man’s man in the quietest possible way. Not a big drinker or partier, he didn’t demand attention or make himself known. But when he had something to say, it would be razor sharp, insightful, and delivered with devastating precision. My friends called him the conversational samuri. He’d been born in the days when polio routinely robbed young men and women of their prospects. So he left school with no qualifications and ended up trapped in a blue collar job, fitting hydraulic lifts on trucks for decade after decade. Some would say it was a waste of his talent. I would say it was a waste of his joy. He came alive again once he retired. And then we had nearly fifteen years of unrelenting mischief before the Alzheimer’s took hold. Building rockets and forts and fires and dolls houses and rocking horses, watching fast cars and playing pranks and hiding and seeking and laughing and teasing and I loved every single minute of it. Goodbye dad, i had so much fun with you x 💔
Likes : 81435Hannah Fry - 11.8K Likes - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️

11.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Likes : 11824Hannah Fry - 11.8K Likes - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️

11.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Likes : 11824Hannah Fry - 11.8K Likes - One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️

11.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : One bank holiday weekend in numbers 🫱 ✅ 11 courses at the poshest restaurant I’ve ever been to ✅ 2 absolute plonkers dancing to benny hill in my kitchen ✅ 4 fistfuls of gel trying to make my hair go curly (I failed) ✅ 1 beautiful bomber jacket from @sophie_darling_ ✅ And a bum shuffling baby ❤️
Likes : 11824Hannah Fry - 11.6K Likes - Back hosting have I got news for you tonight - and I took exactly zero pictures this time. So you’ll have to make do with the actual show itself, tonight 9pm, BBC1. Enjoy! 🌟🌟 Ps I’ve been using one of them lash serums and I’m pleased to say the non stop three months of itchy eyelids has totally paid off. Causing a hurricane in the South Pacific now every time I blink 💅🏻 #hannahfry

11.6K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : Back hosting have I got news for you tonight – and I took exactly zero pictures this time. So you’ll have to make do with the actual show itself, tonight 9pm, BBC1. Enjoy! 🌟🌟 Ps I’ve been using one of them lash serums and I’m pleased to say the non stop three months of itchy eyelids has totally paid off. Causing a hurricane in the South Pacific now every time I blink 💅🏻 #hannahfry
Likes : 11639Hannah Fry - 7.8K Likes - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.

7.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Likes : 7798Hannah Fry - 7.8K Likes - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.

7.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Likes : 7798Hannah Fry - 7.8K Likes - Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.

7.8K Likes – Hannah Fry Instagram

Caption : Here I am being an ABSOLUTE HUSSY in a photo shoot for a cover piece in the @dailymail that came out yesterday. 🥰💕 Only took a team of four about six hours to achieve. 💅🏻 Might keep the feather cuffs tho. Aren’t they quite the thing. Hair and makeup by the brilliant @desmondino styling and feather boas by the incredibly talented @dinahvantulleken and photos by the fantastic @lezliandrose. Thanks guys, I had such a blast. Secret Genius continues on BBC2 this Thursday at 8pm.
Likes : 7798
Previous article
Arthur Darvill Most Liked Photos and Posts
Next article
Actress Nicole Franzel HD Instagram Photos and Wallpapers July 2024

Categories

Company

Follow on

© Gethu Cinema. All Rights Reserved