Oh, me bum!
…bloody daffodils.
You know, there are many people in the country today who, through no fault of their own, are sane. Some of them were born sane. Some of them became sane later in their lives. It is up to people like you and me who are out of our tiny little minds to try and help these people overcome their sanity.
Every morning, he jogs the forty-seven miles from his two-bedroomed, eight-bathroom, six-up-two-down, three-to-go-house in Reigate, to the Government’s Pesticide Research Centre at Shoreham. Nobody knows why.
No, the stuff I liked was that stuff they gave us before the war, what was it - Wilkinson’s Number 8 Laxative Cereal. Phew. That one went through you like a bloody Ferrari…
'Sorry mum.
The wound! The wound!
Can I just say that I’ll never appear on television again?
Have you heard the one about the three nuns in the nudist colony?
Yes, but it’s nothing to do with archaeology.
Actually, I’m a gynecologist, but this is my lunch hour.
In the debate a spokesman accused the Government of being silly and doing not at all good things.
This is your captain speaking… do not rush for the lifeboats … women, children, Red Indians, spacemen, and a sort of idealized version of complete Renaissance Men first!
Even better. Great. Have a drink. Lose the penguin. Stand by to shoot.
But soon the killer sheep began to infect other animals with its startling intelligence. Pussy cats began to arrange mortgages, cocker spaniels began to design supermarkets…
I’m going to lay down some sheep poison.
About one… call it none.
… 'nd of announcement.
Still, never mind - could be worse. How’s the nude lady?
Is she a goer, eh?