Go away, or I shall taunt you a second time.
Oh shut up Melford, there’s always next year.
Mrs. Jalin: There’s a man at the door with a moustache.
Mr. Jalin: Tell him I’ve already got one. (Mrs Jalin hits him with a newspaper)
Shut up, you American. You Americans, all you do is talk, and talk, and say “let me tell you something” and “I just wanna say.” Well, you’re dead now, so shut up.
Lively brown furry things with short stumpy legs and great long noses. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, I could tame one of those. They look pretty tame to start with.
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!
He’s an ex-CIA man. He’s not a ballet dancer.
Well, Mrs Scrint, apart from being totally unprincipled left-wing troublemakers, the Syrians are also born skivers, they’re dirty, smelly and untrustworthy, and, of course, they’re friends of the awful gippos
Watch it! There’s still a few crosses left.
Oh, what a giveaway.
Now the object of this expedition is to see if we can find any traces of last year’s expedition.
You’re a looney!
This is Captain MacPherson welcoming you aboard East Scottish Airways. You’ll have had your tea. Our destination is Glasgow. There is no need to panic.
On to our second round, and it’s photo time. We’re going to invite you to look at photographs of Tony Jacklin, Anthony Barber, Edgar Allan Poe, Katy Boyle, Reginald Maudling, and a loony. All you have to do is … Spot the Loony! (cut to a photo of Anthony Barber; the buzzer goes immediately) No … I must ask you please not to ring in until you’ve seen all the photos.
Yes, why don’t you go out and steal something nice like some Venetian silver.
Well, if you’re dropping by again, do pop in. And thanks a lot for the gold and frankincense, err, but don’t worry too much about the myrrh next time. All right?
The Minister For Not Listening To People toured Batley today to investigate allegations of victimization in home-loan improvement grants, made last week by the Shadow Minister For Judging People At First Sight To Be Marginally Worse Than They Actually Are. At the Home Office, the Minister For Inserting Himself In Between Chairs And Walls In Men’s Clubs, was at his desk after a short illness. He spent the morning dealing with the Irish situation and later in the day had long discussions with the Minister For Running Upstairs Two At A Time, flinging the door open and saying ‘Ha, ha! Caught you, Mildred’. In the Commons there was another day of heated debate on the third reading of the Trade Practices Bill. Nix Roland Penrose, the Under-Secretary For Making Deep Growling Noises (GRRR!), launched a bitter personal attack on the ex-Minister For Delving Deep Into A Black Satin Bag And Producing A Robe Of Euthymol Toothpaste. Later in the debate the Junior Minister For Being Frightened By Any Kind Of Farm Machinery, challenged the Under-Secretary of State For Hiding From Terence Rattigan to produce the current year’s trading figures, as supplied by the Department of Stealing Packets of Bandages From The Self-Service Counter At Timothy Whites And Then Selling Them Again At A Considerable Profit.
Yes, my brother was leading that, they were going to build a bridge between the two peaks. *(looks at map with one hand over eye) *My idea, I’m afraid.
We worship you, o Brian, who are Lord over us all. Praise unto you Brian, and to the Lord our Father. Amen.
Numbskulls and boobies from all over the country have been arriving to go through their strange paces before a large paying crowd.