Congratulations, both of you. Well, er, what are your names? Arthur Wilson? Right well look, I’ll call *you *Arthur Wilson One, and *you *Arthur Wilson Two, just to avoid confusion. Yes, we are leading this expedition to Africa.
“Yes, yes! One final question Karl and the beautiful lounge suite will be yours… Are you going to have a go? You’re a brave man. Karl Marx, your final question, who won the Cup Final in 1949?”
“The workers’ control of the means of production? The struggle of the urban proletariat?”
“No. It was in fact, Wolverhampton Wanderers who beat Leicester 3-1.”
(Just one person speaking, even if it’s several sentences, in each post, please, Knorf).
Nigel is third in this fine and most exciting Upperclass Twit of the Year Show I’ve ever seen. Nigel’s clubbed himself into fourth place. And so the final result:
The Upperclass Twit of the Year - Gervaise Brook-Hampster.
Runner up - Vivian Smith-Smythe-Smith
Third - Nigel Incubator-Jones
Well, there’ll certainly be some car door slamming in the streets of Kensington tonight!
Well, we’ll be leaving on January 22nd and taking the following routes – the A23s through Purleys down on the main roads near Purbrights avoiding Leatherheads and then taking the A231s entering Rottingdeans from the North. From Rottingdeans we go through Africa to Nairobis. We take the South road out of Nairobis for about twelve miles, and then ask.
I think all right thinking people in this country are sick and tired of being told that ordinary, decent people are fed up in this country with being sick and tired. I’m certainly not! And I’m sick and tired of being told that I am.
Dawn Pailthorpe, the lady show-jumper, had a clam called Stafford, after the late Chancellor; Allan Bullock has two pikes, both called Chris; and Marcel Proust had an haddock! So, if you’re calling the author of A la recherche du temps perdu a looney, I shall have to ask you to step outside!
Kilimanjaro is a pretty tricky climb, you know – most of it’s up, until you reach the very very top, and then it tends to slope away rather sharply. But Jimmy’s put his heads together and worked out a way up. Jimmy? I don’t believe you’ve met. Jimmy Blenkinsop - Arthur Wilson, Arthur Wilson - Jimmy Blenkinsop… Arthur Wilson two - James Blenkinsop one, James Blenkinsop one - Arthur Wilson two. Carry on, Jimmies.
Seriously? :rolleyes:
[Back on topic]
Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me puke, you vacuous, coffee-nosed, maloderous pervert!
(Mea culpa. I certainly try to post only one person’s dialogue).
So, Mrs. Teal…if you send us £15 by return post, please, and your husband Trevor, and your lovely children, Diane, Janice and Juliet need never know the name of your lover in Bolton.
Well, I’m afraid I shan’t be coming on your expedition sir, as I’ve absolutely no confidence in anyone involved in it!
Come the year 1991, given the present rate of increase in the world’s population, the Chinese will be three deep.
Snap snap, grin grin, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?
Anybody else feel like a little… giggle… when I mention my fwiend… Biggus… Dickus?
We’ll have none of your imperialist tidbits.
No no, I mean, because we are members of the Protestant Reformed Church which successfully challenged the autocratic power of the Papacy in the mid-sixteenth century, we can wear little rubber devices to prevent issue.
And finally, monsieur, a wafer-thin mint.
Well, that’s about it for tonight ladies and gentlemen, but remember if you’ve enjoyed watching the show just half as much as we’ve enjoyed doing it, then we’ve enjoyed it twice as much as you. Ha, ha, ha.
But our sales would plummet!
Oh it’s written in the Village rolls
that if one plough team wants an oxen
and that oxen is lent
Then the villeins and the ploughman
have got to have the lord’s consent
Then the villeins and the ploughman
have got to have the lord’s consentNahnah Naah NaahThen the villeins and the ploughman
have got to have the lord’s consentNahnah Naah NaahThen the villeins and the ploughmanNahnah Naah Naahhave got to have the lord’s consentNahnah Naah NaahThen the villeins and the ploughmanNahnah Naah Naahhave got to have the lord’s consentNahnah Naah NaahThen the villeins and the ploughman
Nahnah Naah Naahhave got to have the lord’s consentNahnah Naah Naah
“It’s hotter than a monkey’s bum in here, Your Majesty,” he said, and the Queen smiled quietly to herself.