You Were Born With Your Legs Apart.

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."

Cleanse My Heart... Give Me The Ability To Rage Correctly

Reading Isn't An Occupation We Encourage Among Police Officers. We Try To Keep The Paperwork Down To A Minimum.

You Were Born With Your Legs Apart. They'll Send You To The Grave In A Y-shaped Coffin.

The Oscar Wilde Of Welfare State Gentility.