It's All Any Reasonable Child Can Expect

On Our Way Home We Were Waiting For The Bus When A Very Fat, Pompous-looking Woman Reeled Out Of A Pub Shouting, "melancholia? Ad Nauseam."

With Madness, As With Vomit, It's The Passerby Who Receives The Inconvenience.

God Is A Gentleman. He Prefers Blondes

I'm Too Amused By The Way People Carry On To Give In To Despair.

Policemen, Like Red Squirrels, Must Be Protected.