Uh-oh, here comes that wacky queen again!
The Peasants will be working over the New Year as they do every bloody new year because no-one gives a a toss about the people who really do the hard work. I mean where else is all the mud going to come from ? It doesn’t grow on trees, you know. Once again the so-called self-elected ruling oppressors have totally overlooked the fact that the work in this realm is done by the masses, with inefficient, out-dated equipment like hands. Of course we had the usual New Year visit from some second rate bonehead from Camelot. This year it was Sir Chris. What a waste of space he was. “Want you all to know that we really appreciate all you’re doing” he says, and hands round some fresh rags. Not a word about constitutional reform.
You git! I soiled my armor I was so scared!
Hello, officer. There seems to have been an accident. Well, several accidents actually.
Dead Indian.
What you do in your own time, Padre, is written on the wall in the vestry.
Get on with it!
Biggles! Fetch…THE CUSHIONS!
No. 1. The Larch. The… Larch.
Mrs Smegma, will you stand up please.
Trading was crisp at the start of the day with some brisk business on the floor. Rubber hardened and string remained confident. Little bits of tin consolidated although biscuits sank after an early gain and stools remained anonymous. Armpits rallied well after a poor start. Nipples rose dramatically during the morning but had declined by mid-afternoon, while teeth clenched and buttocks remained firm.
Every morning at his little three-room semi near Reading, Ken gets up at three o’dock and goes back to bed again because it’s far too early.
And you try and tell the young people of today that … they won’t believe you.
Luxury!
Speaking as a member of the Stock Exchange I would suck their brains out with a straw, sell the widows and orphans and go into South American Zinc.
I’m terribly sorry to interrupt but my tooth’s hurting, just around here.
I am coming too
My name will be Sir Fred
I’ll be your musician
'Cause I’m not yet dead.
:: Zzzzzzzzzzzzip ::
Message for you, sir.
Splunge.
I forget my name for the moment but I am a merchant banker.