Monty Python non sequitur thread (Part 1)

It’s a man’s life in the British Dental Association.

That’s no ordinary rabbit…That’s a killer rabbit…got teeth like this!

It’s a bazooka!

I don’t much like the tone of your voice.

This year our members have put more things on top of other things than ever before. But, I should warn you, this is no time for complacency. No, there are still many things, and I cannot emphasize this too strongly, not on top of other things. I myself, on my way here this evening, saw a thing that was not on top of another thing in any way.

Kipling Road was a typical sort of East End street, people were in and out of each other’s houses with each other’s property all day. They were a cheery lot.

Now come on, come on, there she is, she’s all ready for it. She’s a real stunner, she’s got great big tits, she’s really well stacked and you’ve got her legs up against the mantelpiece.

Lambert! What is the length of the Comfydown Majorette?

First offense? Yeah, crucifixion.

A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette, but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

‘Black stump Bordeaux’ is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured Burgundy, whilst a good ‘Sydney Syrup’ can rank with any of the world’s best sugary wines.

‘Chateau Bleu’, too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and its lingering afterburn.

‘Old Smokey, 1968’ has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret, whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 ‘Coq du Rod Laver’, which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: 8 bottles of this, and you’re really finished – at the opening of the Sydney Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is ‘Perth Pink’. This is a bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!. This is not a wine for drinking – this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is ‘Melbourne Old-and-Yellow’, which is particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of ‘Chateau Chunder’, which is an Appalachian controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation – a fine wine which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a ‘Hobart Muddy’, and a prize winning ‘Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wogga Wogga’, which has a bouquet like an aborigine’s armpit.

You’re a very silly man, and I’m not going to interview you.

All right, but apart from the sanitation, medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh water system and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?

Whad’ye buy?
It’s a piston engine!
Whad’ye get that for?
It was a bargain!

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.

Well there you can see the scores now. St Stephen in the lead there with his stoning, then comes King Richard the Third at Bosworth Field, a grand death that, then the very lovely Jean d’Arc, then Marat in his bath - best of friends with Charlotte in the showers afterwards - then A. Lincoln of the U.S of A, a grand little chap that, and number six Genghis Khan, and the back marker King Edward the Seventh.

We interrupt this program to annoy you and make things generally irritating.

“A Saturday afternoon in November was approaching the time of twilight, and the vast tract of unenclosed wild known as Egdon Heath embrowned itself moment by moment.” And that after only 7 hours of writing! What a Hardyesque cracker!

No, no! Don’t be silly! How can you find someone “Not Esther Williams”?

Well I don’t want to show my hand too early, but actually here at Slater Nazi we are quite keen to get into orphans, you know, developing market and all that… what sort of sum did you have in mind?

Yeah, but he was very reasonable about it. I mean, one Sunday when my parents were coming 'round for tea, I asked him if he’d mind very much not nailing my head to the floor that week, and he agreed and just screwed my pelvis to a cake stand.