I mean a lot of others say they unclog you, but I never had a single bowel movement with the ‘Recto-Puffs’.
Mr. Pither: You are Rear Admiral Sir Dudley Compton?
Chinaman: No. He die. He have heart attack and fell out of window onto exploding bomb, and was killed in shooting accident.
If it lays an egg, it will fall down the back of the telly-vision set.
Listen Buster! In Reykyavik it is dark for eight months of the year, and it’s cold enough to freeze your wrists off and there’s only golly fish to eat. Administrative errors are bound to occur in enormous quantities. Look at this - it’s all a mistake. It’s a real pain in the sphincter!
That could cause confusion. Mind if we call you “Bruce”?
Padre: I’m a goner, major. Leave me, I’m … I’m not a complete man anymore.
Major: You’ve lost both your arms as well.
When Martin Luther nailed his protest up to the church door in 1517, he may not have realised the full significance of what he was doing, but four hundred years later, thanks to him, my dear, I can wear whatever I want on my John Thomas. And Protestantism doesn’t stop at the simple condom. Oh, no! I can wear French Ticklers if I want.
There. Flopsy’s dead, and never called me Mother.
Mr. Bounder, this gentleman is interested in the “India Overland” — and nothing else!
‘Fractured tibia, sergeant’? ‘Fractured tibia, sergeant’? Ooh. Proper little mummy’s boy, aren’t we? Well, I’ll tell you something, my fine friend, if you fracture a tibia here you keep quiet about it! Look at him! (looks more closely) He’s broken both his arms and he don’t go shouting about it, do he? No! 'Cos he’s a man - he’s a woman, you see, so don’t come that broken tibia talk with me. Get on at the double. One, two, three, pick that crutch up, pick that crutch right up.
What I was thinking was, I was gonna ask him if he’d make me a bit lame in one leg during the middle of the week. You know, something beggable, but not leprosy, which was a pain in me ass to be blunt.
Pining for the fjords?!?
Interviewer: Yes, well, ha, ha, just a moment. Perhaps you would all like to say good evening together.
Mr Sm: G…
Scot: . … oo…
Mr Ith: … d
Mr Sm: Eve…
Scot: … ni…
Mr Ith: … ing
It’s hot enough to boil a monkey’s bum in here, your Majesty.
Well, Mr Cotton, you have what we in the medical profession call a naughty complaint. My advice to you is to put this paper bag over your head - it has little holes there for your eyes, you see - and to ring this bell, and to take this card along to your hospital.
I don’t like being called “Eddie-baby.”
Look. I tell you what. Those who want to, can eat Johnson. And you, sir, can have my leg. And we make some stock from the Captain, and then we’ll have Johnson cold for supper.
I’ve just had another baby.
I’m turning you all out! I’m not having my house filled with filthy perverts.
Lemming, Lemming
Lemming of the BDA
Lemming, Lemming
Lemming of the BD…
Lemming of the BD…
BD-BD-Aaaaaaa!
It’s a man’s life in the British Dental Association.