Kamikaze please.
You’re fooling yourself. We’re living in a dictatorship!
Oh well we sometimes feel we’re to blame in some way for what our gran’s become. I mean she used to be happy here until she, she started on the crochet. Yeah. Now she can’t do without it. Twenty balls of wool a day, sometimes. If she can’t get the wool she gets violent. What can we do about it?
It’s not pining, it’s passed on. This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be. It’s expired and gone to meet its maker.This is a late parrot. It’s a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn’t nailed it to the perch it would be pushing up the daisies. It’s rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot.
'Ere, he says he’s not dead.
Comrades. Bolsheviks. Friends of the Revolution. I have returned. The bloodstained shadow of Stalinist repression is past. I bring you new light of Permanent Revolution. Comrades, I may once have been ousted from power, I may have been expelled from the party in 1927, I may have been deported in 1929 but I’m just an old-fashioned girl, with an old-fashioned mind. Comrades, I don’t want to destroy in order to build, I don’t want a state founded on hate and division I want an old-fashioned house with an old-fashioned fence, and an old-fashioned millionaire.
No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!
If there’s any more stock film of women applauding, I shall clear the court!
Hallo. Uh, can we have your liver?
Shut up! Shut up, you American. You always talk, you Americans. You talk and you talk and say “Let me tell you something” and “I just wanna say this.” Well, you’re dead now, so shut up!
What? I don’t know tha-
Aiyeeeah!
Our destination is Glasgow. There is no need to panic.
It hasn’t got any bloody flavor. It’s a bloody seabird, innit? ALBATROSS!
God exists, by three falls, to one submission.
Regards,
Shodan
You’re in great peril!
You’ll never get away with this, you porn merchant. Blimey!
The EXPURGATED version of Olsen’s Standard Book of British Birds?!?!?!?!?
Keith, you claim you can send bricks to sleep.
Now, my good wife. Whilst I rest, read to me a while from Shakespeare’s Gay Boys in Bondage.
Oh you’re no fun anymore!