I Quite Fancy The 1940s. I Like

Now I'm Not An Expert At Mathematics, But I Calculated It Would Take At Least Three Of Me To Take On One Third Of One Of Them, Even If They Were Attacking Me With Just Their Arse.

I Don't Mind Most Religious People, I Talk To Them. I Listen To Them, You Know, Banging On. "i Prayed Very Hard And Then The Fairy Came." "did He? Good. Have A Biscuit." I Only Get Annoyed When They Try And Make Me See The Fairy. "you Have To Let The Fairy Into Your Heart." Look, I Wouldn't Let Him Into My Garden, Okay? I'd Shoot Him On Sight, If He Existed, Which He Doesn't. Now Have Another Biccie And Be Quiet, Will You Please?

I'm Not Drunk Onstage, Although I've Done That A Couple Of Times When I Was Younger. It's Partly Just The Way I Talk - I Talk Like Somebody In A Rocking Chair. I'm Your 150-year-old Grandmother.

America Is This Incredible Mosaic Of Immigrants, So People Really Want To Be Anchored In Some Kind Of Culture As Well As The One They Are Living In.

So Here Are Some Foolproof Recipes For Those Of You Who Understand The True Function Of Food. Bean Treat: Gingerly Pour Four Fluid Oz Of Beans Or Something Into A Jug. Cry. Eat The Beans From The Jug And Pour The Rest From The Can Down Your Throat. N.b. These Taste Better If They Belong To Somebody Else In Your House. Pain Au Dunk: Fists Of Bread, Rent From The Loaf And Dunked Into Anything Runnier Than Bread. Should Eat At Least Six Of These Because…you Should. Don’t Toast The Bread. Toast Is Cookery.