You don’t fool me, you stupid mynah bird. I’m not deaf yet.
No, no. I want him fighting wabid, wild animals within a week.
I mean you, m’lud, not you, m’lud.
Doug and Dinsdale Piranha were born, on probation, in this house in Kipling Road, Southwick, the eldest sons in a family of sixteen. Their father, Arthur Piranha, a scrap metal dealer and TV quizmaster, was well-known to the police, and a devout Catholic. In January, 1928, he had married Kitty Malone, an up-and-coming East End boxer. Doug was born in February, 1929, and Dinsdale two weeks later, and again, a week after that.
No. 1. The Larch. The… larch.
Camelot!
Nothing more dangerous than a wounded mosquito.
This is Ken Clean-Air Systems, the great white hope of the British boxing world. After three fights - and only two convictions - his manager believes that Ken is now ready to face the giant American, Satellite Five… Every morning, he jogs the forty-seven miles from his two-bedroomed, eight-bathroom, six-up-two-down, three-to-go-house in Reigate, to the Government’s Pesticide Research Centre at Shoreham. Nobody knows why.
And spotteth twice they the camels before the third hour, and so, the Midianites went forth to Ram Gilead in Kadesh Bilgemath, by Shor Ethra Regalion, to the house of Gash-Bil-Bethuel-Bazda, he who brought the butter dish to Balshazar and the tent peg to the house of Rashomon, and there slew they the goats, yea, and placed they the bits in little pots. Here endeth the lesson.
Basically Ken is a very gentle, home-loving person. I remember when one of his stick insects had a knee infection. He stayed up all night rubbing it with germoline and banging its head on the table.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! It’s K-K-K-Ken, c-c-coming to k-k-k-kill me! How you gonna c-c-c-catch me, K-K-K-K-Ken?
[not Python, but close enough]
The great thing about Ken is that he’s almost totally stupid.
This is a frightened city. Over these houses, over these streets, hangs a pall of fear. Fear of a new kind of violence which is terrorizing the city. Yes, gangs of old ladies attacking defenseless, fit young men.
Why on earth didn’t you say WHY you wanted an adjournment?
Oh, he was such a pretty baby, always so kind and gentle. He was really considerate to his mother, and not at all the kind of person you’d expect to pulverize his opponent into a bloody mass of flesh and raw bone, spitting teeth and fragments of gum into a ring which had become one man’s hell and Ken’s glory.
Follow! But! Follow only if ye be men of valor, for the entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel, that no man yet has fought with it and lived! Bones of full fifty men lie strewn about its lair. So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all, with nasty, big, pointy teeth!
This is the recipe for increased productivity to meet the threat of those nasty foreigners when Britain takes her natural place at the head of the British Common Market.
It’s fun to charter an accountant
And sail the wide accountancy,
To find, explore the funds offshore
And skirt the shoals of bankruptcy!
This is La Paz, Bolivia; behind me you can hear the thud of mortars and the high-pitched whine of rockets, as the battle for control of this volatile republic shakes the foundations of this old city. But whatever their political inclinations, these Bolivians are all keen users of storage jars. Here the largest size is used for rice and for mangoes, a big local crop. Unlike most revolutionary South American states, they’ve an intermediary size in between the 2 lb and 5 lb jars. This gives this poor but proud people a useful jar for apricots, plums, and stock cubes. The smallest jar: this little 2oz jar, for sweets, chocolates, and even little shallots. No longer used in the West, it remains here as an unspoken monument to the days when La Paz knew better times. Ronald Rodgers, “Storage Jars,” La Paz.
Don’t call me señor! I’m not a Spanish person. You must call me Mr Biggles, or Group Captain Biggles or Mary Biggles if I’m dressed as my wife, but never señor.