...and now for something completely different.

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Intercourse the penguin!














I'm French, why do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly king.














There is no rule #6.














How can we not say the word if you don't tell us what it is?














Call the next deaf end... ANT!














Sometimes, at the end of a sentence, I come out with the wrong fusebox.














Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!














Of course it's got an hole in it. Wouldn't be an hoop otherwise, would it?














I distinctly heard a Mexican rhythm combo.














I'm off to play the grand piano. Pardon me while I fly my aeroplane.














They stamp them when they're small.














A brontosaurus is thin at one end, much much thicker in the middle, and then thin again at the far end.














I'd like some "chest of drawers" please.














...nipping out to the kitchen, getting crumbs and bits of food out of those round, brown mat things that the teapot goes on.














The palindrome of "Bolton" is "Notlob".














Well, that's just the kind of blinkard, philistine pig-ignorance I've come to expect from you non-creative. You sit there on your loathsome spotty behinds squeezing blackheads. You excrement. You whining hypocritical poadies with you color TV sets and your Tony Jacqueline golf clubs. You wouldn't let me join would you you blackballing bastards. Well I wouldn't become a freemason now if you went down onyour lousy, stinking, purulent knees, and begged me garbage.














If they can't see you, they can't get you.














The tenants are carried along the corridor, on a conveyor, in extreme comfort past murals depicting Mediterranean scenes, towards the rotating knives.














They mean to win Wimbledon.














Actually I'm a gynecologist, but this is my lunch hour.














Ees nothing senior, ees just some literature.














You move at your peril. I'm a very good shot, I practice every day. Well, most days in the week. I expect I must practice, Oh four or five times a week. Or more really, but some weekends, like last weekend, there really wasn't the time so that brings the average down a bit...














What's brown and sound like a bell?

DUNG














11 years, 2 months, 26 days, 9 hours, 3 minutes, and 27.4 seconds. A TIE.














Eight feet of solid Watutsi!














There's nothing more dangerous than a wounded mosquito.














And there was much rejoicing.














Leaping from tree to tree with my best girlie by my side.














Lemon Curry?














The man from the van said that their equipment can pinpoint a purr at 400 yards.














Fire Mrs. Nesbit !














Blimey. I mean, I don't eat squirrels now do I? Well, maybe I do (now and again) but there's no law against that.














Pining for the fjiords?






















I'm more interesting than a wet pussycat














I don't want to go on the cart.














Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just the automatic gainsaying of any statement the other person makes.














Cut down a tree with a herring?














What sad times are these when passing ruffians can say "nit" at will to old ladies.














Mr. Bellpit. Your legs are so swollen.














Armed bands of theatre critics exterminating mutant goats














Death is your gift



What's THAT doing in here?














How do they put budgies down?














Is everybody quite content to join in with my little scheme of marching up and down the square?














The machine that goes "Ping".














The development of the industrial proletariat is conditioned by what other development?














HUGE tracks of land.














"The amazing adventures of captain Gladys Stote Pamphlet and her intrepid spaniel Stig amongst the giant pygmies of Bekels", volume 8.














Apart from the sanitation, medicine, educatn, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, fresh water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?














What's all this then?














Mind you, that is just a pat diagnosis made without first obtaining your full medical history.














I want to hunt piggybanks.














Listen, strange women lyin' about in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government.














I did ask you not to say "mattress".






















Rosalynds father has become ensnared by Mr. Shabby's extraordinary personal magnetism. Bob and Janet have eaten Mr. Farquar's goldfish. While Tim (Bob's brother) has run over the editor of the Mansiette on his way to see Jenny (the free-lance pagoda designer).














It's a fair cop.














What happens after the steel is poured into the ingots?














...the penguin's brain is still smaller.














I want to complain about people who complain about people who write in to complain





























GET ON WITH IT!














You complain, nothing happens, you might as well not bother














And now... The news for wombats














If we took the bones out it wouldn't be crunchy, now would it?














My hovercraft is full of eels





































A whole minute?














I've always enjoyed the outdoor life. Gettin' out there with a gun, slaughtering a few of God's creatures.














I've seen grown men pull their own heads off rather than see Doug.














I can't cook on it unless it's connected up.














A sheep's life consists mostly of standing around for a few months and then being eaten.














That's all for now.

Off you go




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