Yes! Whenever bicycles are broken, or menaced by international Communism, Bicycle Repair Man is ready!
Joke, sir? Guaranteed amusing. As used by the crowned heads of Europe. Has brought tears to the eyes of Royalty. ‘Denmark has never laughed so much’ - ‘The Stage’. Nice little novelty number - ‘a naughty Humphrey’ - breaks the ice at parties. Put it on the table. Press the button. It vomits. Absolutely guaranteed. With refills. ‘Black soap’ - leave it in the bathroom, they wash their hands, real fungus grows on the fingers. Can’t get it off for hours. Guaranteed to break the ice at parties. Frighten the elderly - real snakes. Comedy hernia kit. Plastic flesh wounds - just keep your friends in stitches. Guaranteed to break the ice at parties. Hours of fun with ‘honeymoon delight’ - empty it into their beds - real skunk juice. They won’t forget their wedding night. Sticks to the skin, absolutely waterproof, guaranteed to break the ice at parties. Amuse your friends - CS gas canisters - smells, tastes and acts just like the real thing - can blind, maim or kill. Or for drinks, why not buy a ‘wicked willy’ with a life-size winkle - serves warm beer. Makes real cocktails. Hours of amusement. Or get the new Pooh-Pooh machine. Embarrass your guests - completely authentic sound. Or why not try a new ‘naughty nightie’ - put it on and it melts - just watch their faces. Guaranteed to break the ice at naughty parties. Go on, go on.
You’re a loony.
If you’re going to split hairs, I’m going to piss off.
Course you don’t get bloody wafers with it!
Well it’s thirteen minutes to the hour of nine-nine-nine, here on wonderful Radio One-One-One! So if you’re still lying in your big big bed, now is the time to get up out of it! We’ve got another thirteen hours of tip-top sounds here on Wonderful Radio One! Sorry about that … So unless you have brain cells, or have completed the process of evolution, there’s a wonderful day ahead!
And now for something completely different: a man with a tape recorder up his nose.
That was ‘A Minute Passed’, by John Finlissom. You can hear Episode Nine of ‘A Minute Passed’ tomorrow night at a minute past.
It’s…
A duck!
Just read that one of the prime carriers of ebola is the fruit bat. Scanned further but found no mention of lambs, sloths or breakfast cereals.
Ar. Exactly. Birds is the key to the whole problem. It’s my belief that these sheep are laborin’ under the misapprehension that they’re birds. Observe their behavior. Take for a start the sheeps’ tendency to 'op about the field on their back legs. Now witness their attempts to fly from tree to tree. Notice that they do not so much fly as…plummet. Observe for example that ewe in that oak tree. She is clearly trying to teach her lamb to fly. Talk about the blind leading the blind.
Ah, yeah. I could do that, sir. Yeah. Yeah, I could do that, I suppose. What I was thinking was, I was going to ask him if he could make me a bit lame in one leg during the middle of the week. You know, something beggable, but not leprosy, which is a pain in the arse, to be blunt.
Already Neutron - who, you will remember, is infinitely the most dangerous man in the world, he really is - was gathering allies together.
It was not long before the Army became interested in the military potential of the Killer Joke. Under top security, the joke was hurried to a meeting of Allied Commanders at the Ministry of War. Top brass were impressed. Tests on Salisbury Plain confirmed the joke’s devastating effectiveness at a range of up to fifty yards. All through the winter of '43 we had translators working, in joke-proof conditions, to try and produce a German version of the joke. They worked on one word each for greater safety. One of them saw two words of the joke and spent several weeks in hospital. But apart from that things went pretty quickly, and we soon had the joke by January, in a form which our troops couldn’t understand but which the Germans could.
And so when you get a chance to vote,
Kind-ly vote Con-ser-va-tive.
Well, one day I was sitting at home threatening the kids, and I looked out of the hole in the wall and sees this tank drive up and one of Dinsdale’s boys gets out and he comes up, all nice and friendly like, and says Dinsdale wants to have a talk with me. So he chains me to the back of the tank and takes me for a scrape 'round to Dinsdale’s. And Dinsdale’s there in the conversation pit with Doug and Charles Paisley, the baby crusher, and a couple of film producers and a man they called ‘Kierkegaard’, who just sat there biting the heads off whippets, and Dinsdale said “I hear you’ve been a naughty boy, Clement,” and he splits me nostrils open and saws me leg off and pulls me liver out, and I said ,“My name’s not Clement,” and then he loses his temper and nails my head to the floor.
[Viking]
Anyway.
[/V]
I love this hive, employee-ee,
Bisected accidentally,
One summer afternoon by me,
I love him carnally.
He loves him carnally,
Semi-carnally.
The End
Cyril Connolly?
No, semi-carnally