How shall we fuck off, oh Lord?
He scarpered!
But we haven’t done anything illegal.
Those are the rules, that’s the game, 'til next time, bye bye!
Buy Whizzo Butter and go to, heaven!
Uh, today we ’ave for appetizers — excuse me. Uh, moules marinières, pâté de foie gras, Beluga caviar, eggs Benedictine, tart de poireau — that’s leek tart — frogs’ legs amandine, or oeufs de caille Richard Shepherd — c’est-à-dire, little quails’ eggs on a bed of puréed mushroom; it’s very delicate, very subtle.
Better get me a bucket.
Oh, what sad times are these when passing ruffians can say ‘nee’ at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land, nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable economic stress at this period in history.
And thanks a lot for the gold and frankincense but don’t worry too much about the myrrh next time.
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
galloping through the sward,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
and his horse Concorde.
He steals from the rich, he gives to the poor,
Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore.
In a bunch! In a bunch!
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
riding through the glen,
Dennis Moore, Dennis Moore,
with his band of men.
He steals from the poor, he gives to the rich,
Stupid bitch!
A path! A path!
Isn’t it awfully nice to have a penis?
Isn’t it frightfully good to have a dong?
What’s it like?
Accidents happen, Colonel.
Oh I’m terribly sorry, my suit seems to keep catching fire.
assistant offers to call the fire brigade
Oh no, thank you, I think we’d better let it run it’s course.
Fear No Man!
I’ll make you a MASTER of LLAP-Goch … the Secret Welsh ART of SELF DEFENCE that requires NO INTELLIGENCE, STRENGTH or PHYSICAL courage.
Well let me tell you something my lad! When you’re walking home tonight and some great homicidal maniac comes after YOU with a bunch of loganberries, don’t come cryin’ to me!
[I’m going to transmogrify this thread into a sequitur thread, so there! :p]