Thursday, 21 October 2010


Generated by Charles Gaggage's remarkable difference machine.

For was it not young Robbie Coltraine who said 'to bebopaloobopawapboom, or not to bebopaloobopawapboom. That is the question.'

I went into a Lidl once. Ironically it was quite big.

The Bangles' original version of their global hit 'Walk Like An Egyptian' was the less savoury 'Wank Like An Egyptian'.

People talk about 'the tyranny of the School gates.' Not much of a tyranny, though, is it: compared with, say, Caligula.

A + d + a + (n + n). That about sums me up.

Is there enough moisturiser in this pot to do the whole of my leg? How deep is the lotion? How high is the thigh?

Eating a tiny piece of fish with James Bond! Just brilliant! A quantum of Sole -- ace!

I like to transform birds into ocean-going vessels. I follow the lead of the world bestselling book, *To Keel A Mockingbird.

You have to hand it to J K Rowling: it takes guts to make your terrifying super-villain half-human, half-vole.

Shropshire! Placid, calm, pastoral ... unlike its neighbouring county, where everyone seems so angry: Stropshire.

Terror of the deep! -- Hideous Bloodsucking Marine Bivalves! -- THE CLAM-PIRE!

Did you see that skeleton at the Commonwealth Games? Man, he was performing out of his skin!

The irony was that when the tramp actually got up *onto* the trampolene, the authorities had him removed!

Ding dong dell, pussy's in the well. Who put her in? That bloody Leslie Philips -- I heard him do his catchphrase as he pushed her. The swine.

Quite like the thought of going hang-gliding. Certainly more so than Electricchair-gliding or Firingsquad-gliding.

I've been walking around with my head stuck through a full-sized harp. I heard that the girls are going crazy for a harp dressed man.

My pal, Timothy Thepresent, is simply unique. There really is no Tim like Thepresent.

I've got so many enormous sheets of peanut brittle to eat! I suppose I'd better get cracking.

21st novel of middle-class Scottish family on holiday in Swiss Alps: We Ski Galore.

Mario Vargas Llosa wins 2010 Nobel Prize in literature. He's the world's second most famous Mario, the first if you exclude video games. Has now changed his name by deed poll to Mario Vargas Wwinner.

My bike suspension may need looking at. As I cycled in this morning it was making noises like the between-scenes bass fills in Seinfeld.

Taking photographs of herring in little waistcoats and kilts is laughably easy. It's shooting fish in apparrel.

I've had my main entrance chubb lock moved right to the bottom of the door. I prefer things low key.

Call me pedantic, but I don't see how we can continue to call Sunday Sunday after the Sun has set.

I'm thinking of performing a theatrical monologue about Vegetables at next year's Edinburgh Fringe: the Veg-in-a-monologue. It should be a hit with anybody who has a vegetable. And that's most people.

What ever happened to that Pigbag Papa got? It must be quite old now.

She moves, she moves. She bangs, she bangs. She may have fireworks in her backpack, actually.

Steve 'Jane' Austen: six million dollar manners.

If we're talking about writing, it's: 'show, don't tell.' If it's the proposed Terry Venables striptease, it's: 'Tel, don't show.'

You've seen, at doctors, those wallcharts breaking down the chemical constituents of urine? That's the Peeriodic Table.

This Adie Aitchdee individual seems like bad news for kids. Somebody should lock him up or something.

Do you remember in the 1980s, when the Thin White Duke briefly fronted Bow Wow Wow and they were renamed Bowwowwowie?

Ikea sold me a wardrobe in seven dimensions. You couldn't make it up!

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