(non-verbal one-off here)
::Enter secretary with tray with two cups on it. She has a particularly jerky silly walk which means that by the time she reaches the minister there is no coffee left in the cups. The minister has a quick look in the cups, and smiles understandingly, as she exits, still carrying the tray and cups::
I’m not a Roman, Mum - I’m a kike, a yid, a heebie, a hook-nose. I’m kosher, Mum! I’m a Red Sea pedestrian, and proud of it!
I’ve asked along a simply gorgeous little man I picked up outside the Odeon.
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.
Well now, the result of last week’s competition when we asked you to find a derogatory term for the Belgians. Well, the response was enormous and we took quite a long time sorting out the winners. There were some very clever entries. Mrs Hatred of Leicester said ‘let’s not call them anything, let’s just ignore them’. And a Mr St John of Huntingdon said he couldn’t think of anything more derogatory than ‘Belgians’. But in the end we settled on three choices: number three… ‘The Sprouts’, sent in by Mrs Vicious of Hastings… very nice; number two… ‘The Phlegms’, from Mrs Childmolester of Worthing; but the winner was undoubtedly from Mrs No-Supper-For-You from Norwood in Lancashire… ‘Miserable Fat Belgian Bastards’!
You must be out of your tiny mind.
Well, he did say “Jehovah.”
Ooooo, and black as the ace of spades!
Not gill… cup? Not gillcup! You have been found not gillcup of the charges brought against you and may leave this court a free man. Right. My turn…
Doug [Piranha] was born in February 1929 and Dinsdale two weeks later; and again a week after that.
Dear Sir, I wish to complain in the strongest possible terms about the song which had just broadcast about the lumberjack who wears women’s clothes. Many of my best friends are lumberjacks and only a few of them are transvestites. Yours faithfully, Brigadier Sir Charles Arthur Strong (Ms.). P.S. I have never kissed the editor of the Radio Times.
I’m working on a new disease now and hope to make it into a musical.
Well, I’ve been in the city for 30 years and I’ve never once regretted being a nasty, greedy, cold-hearted, avaricious money-grubber… er, Conservative!
No. 1. The Larch. The… Larch.
What Jesus blatantly fails to appreciate is that it’s the meek who are the problem.
Now, the reason we do this, ladies and Bruces, is frankly, over here we find your American beer is a little like making love in a canoe - it’s fucking close to water!
So from now on we’re going to do things my way. For a start, David Hockney is going to design the bombs. And I’ve seen the plans!
Do you think you can recognize a larch from far, far away?
If you wanna get anything done in this country you gotta complain 'till you’re blue in the mouth.
Mrs Ratbag, if you don’t mind me saying so, you are badly in need of an expensive course of psychiatric treatment. Now I’m not going to say a trip to our dairy will cure you, but it will give hundreds of lower-paid workers a good laugh.