Severin

Sounds like a top notch innuendo.

“I heard, in his alone time, grows radishes on his window ledge”

Up there with “Doing the fourth monkey”.

So you’re saying people would not learn from the mistakes of others?
You could be right, there seems to be lots of people not learning from what happened around the first half of the 1940’s.

People say sketch comedy is dead because newer audiences don’t find it entertaining.
The real reason is because John Finnemore has written all the best sketches already and anyone else would just be plagiarising.

Okay Boomer.

Trump thinks he’s clever.
His kids all endeavour,
They all have bravado,
And live in Mar-a-Lago,
One day things will change,
And not feel so strange,
Let’s bury him under his ballroom.

It’s all on video.

Not everything should take after you.

Really?
I’d regret drinking 3 Bud Lites almost immediately.

You type surprisingly well whilst wearing driving gloves.

There are two types of people.
Those who heard Dry The Rain by The Beta Band before High Fidelity and those who, erm, didn’t.

In England we call it “WTF happened to October?”

Why stop there, add a C, and maybe an L. You could even mix them all up, but that would be a colossal mistake.

Helen?

Do you feel the same about people who don’t like football?

I’d have thought him voting Reform would have been the final straw.

My niece just thought The Pixies sounded cute.

I can only imagine the replies over on “Twitter”.

Willy Banjo.
Jordan and Ashley’s uncle.

Surprisingly, very good.

We had a dog with no nose.

I’d rather have mice in my garden than foxes.

“I’d like to report a hazard phone.”

George Orwell omitted this very sentence from a novel because he thought it was too obvious.

Because, it’s better than being wrong.
Same people who tried to teach us starting a sentence with subordinating conjunction is wrong.

Let’s hope the kid is green.

Open a Bed and Breakfast.

Some people were fat.
Some people were bastards.
Some people are both.
Some people didn’t love you to begin with.

Revolting! Cocks?

Ironically, Ian Watkins last words.