The cat sat on the mat. And now the Battle of Trafalgar… Tonight we examine popular views of this great battle. Was the Battle of Trafalgar fought in the Atlantic off southern Spain? Or was it fought on dry land near Cudworth in Yorkshire? Here is one man who thinks it was…
‘To whoever finds this note:
I have been imprisoned by my father, who wishes me to marry against my will. Please, please, please come and rescue me. I am in the Tall Tower of Swamp Castle.’
No. 1. The Larch.
No, no, sir, it’s alright, we don’t morally censor, we just want the money.
Kiss me, Hardy!
Well, we’ll be continuing with ‘Monty Python’s Flying Circus’ in just a moment (consults his watch) fr…o…m nnnnnnnnnnnn…now.
All our patients here are suffering from severe over-acting.
Oh, you never know till you try. Look at Mrs Brando’s son next door. He was mending the fridge when they came and asked him to be the Wild One.
A horse, a horse, a kingdom for a horse.
You’ve got two empty halves of coconut and your bangin’ 'em together
We found them.
I waggled me wig!
Mr. E.V. Lambert of Homeleigh, The Burrows, Oswestly, has presented us with a poser. We do not know which bush he is behind, but we can soon find out.
Yes, it was the middle one.
Oh yes, well, I mean, there were some people who said my film 2001: A Space Odyssey, was similar to Stanley Kubrick’s. I mean, that’s the sort of petty critical niggling that’s dogged my career. It makes me sick. I mean, as soon as I’d made ‘Midnight Cowboy’ with the vicar as Ratso Rizzo, John Schlesinger rushes out his version, and gets it premiered while mine’s still at the chemist’s.
Let’s have a bit of wit, then, man.
Well, for a start, at the office where I work I can be sitting at my desk all day and the others totally ignore me. At home, even though we are in the same room, my wife does not speak to me for hours, people pass me by in the street without a glance in my direction, and I can walk into a room without…
Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of Caerphilly, if you please!
Oh, I thought you were complaining about the music!
On second thought, let’s not go there. It is a silly place.
The mosquito’s a clever little bastard. You can track him for days and days until you really get to know him like a friend. He knows you’re there, and you know he’s there. It’s a game of wits. You hate him, then you respect him, then you kill him.