I want that man fighting wild dogs by the end of the day!
I want you kids to get a head!
:: canned laughter ::
Blessed are the cheesemakers.
Bruce here teaches classical philosophy, Bruce there teaches Hegelian philosophy, and Bruce here teaches logical positivism, and is also in charge of the sheep dip.
I’m not oppressing you, Stan. You haven’t got a womb! Where’s the fetus gonna gestate? You gonna keep it in a box?
Bloody Romans.
Can we have your liver then?
Ah, hungry!
Hello, good evening and welcome to another edition of Blood, Devastation, Death War and Horror, and later on we’ll be meeting a man who does gardening. But first on the show we’ve got a man who speaks entirely in anagrams.
He ran away!
Good morning, I am a bank robber. Er, please don’t panic, just hand over all your money.
At seven o’clock Ken gets up, he has a quick shower, a rub-down, gets into his track-suit, and goes back to bed again. At 7:50 every morning Ken’s trainer runs the 13,000 miles from his two-room lean-to in Bangkok and gets him up.
This is a lingerie shop.
I will not buy this tobacconist’s, it is scratched.
I’m a lumberjack, and I’m okay.
I used to wake Ken up with a crowbar on the back of the head. But I recently found that this was too far from his brain and I wasn’t getting through to him anymore. So I now wake him up with a steel peg driven into his skull with a mallet.
My brain hurts!
For breakfast every day, Ken places a plate of liver and bacon under his chair, and locks himself in the cupboard.
One on’t cross beams gone owt askew on treddle.
Well, he’s having a lot of mental difficulties with his breakfasts, but this is temporary, caused by a small particle of brain in his skull, and once we’ve removed that he’ll be perfectly all right.