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Ooops! Time to change career?
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Give quotes that suggests the person would be better seeking more suitable employment.
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Do you have a lighter hammer?
Actually, I prefer to be called an 'ethnicsmith'.
[Try saying that three times fast, especially if you have false teeth.]
Actually, I wanted to be a tunesmith, but my GCSE's weren't up to scratch.
"Alas! Foiled, my sweet pickanini! It is indeed shoe polish and I am a WHITE Smith."
You know, I still haven't worked out how to shoe pastry...
"I used to be a chef, but I couldn't stand the heat."
Metalwork is overrated, look at my Macramé
My new line of Sodium horseshoes are easier to fashion to shape, but the quenching is a right bugger.
are/is. Whatever.
Hey, get that dirty great horse out of my smithy! And don't come back!
No, no, no -- it's bad luck to put the shoes on that way round.
"Would you like for me to shoe your wife?"
Ah, Sarah-Jessica, if you'd just like to slip off those Manolo Blahniks...
"I had that Princess Anne in the back of the forge, once."

*Whang! Whang! Whang! Squelch* Aaaarrrrgghh!
*Whang! Whang! Whang! Squelch* Aaaarrrrgghh!
How about
Nuclear Physicist
No Nukes!
[Raak] Reminds me of the 'Liberal Call' used in Berke Breathed's Bloom County Babylon. Can't find it online so have to get the book out this evening for a laugh.
What's that clicking sound? It seems to be getting faster...
Don't be silly - nothing can go that fast!
I've brought a magnifying glass. Does that help?
Should it be melting like that?
Christ, I've got a rash all over me! This wall isn't made of lead by any chance, is it? [I Say, Porter] BB's strip was called "Bloom County". That particular collection was called "Babylon". Try looking for "Opus", "Bill the Cat", "Hodgepodge", "Steve Dallas" or just "Bloom County" for other collections. BB doesn't hold with the WWW, so online versions will be hard to find and unsanctioned. As of last Christmas the BC strip was running again as a weekly in some papers. Hope this helps you. I now return you to the game in progress.
Does my bum look big in this? [SM] Thx, I'll get the books out - got all of 'em I think - it's quicker.
When you say "fission products", do you mean "lurid plastic worms, ratchet action reels, fine nylon monofilament" and so forth or do you mean "bury this in a salt mine for a thousand years"? [I Say Porter] <grin>Well I have both a large Opus plushy and a matching-scale Bill non-plushy as well as all the non-omnibus collections. But wait, there's more! I also have a mint copy of the promo single bound into "Billy and the Boingers Bootleg" and a pristine "Bloom Picayune" bound into "Risky Business". Your turn. :oP</grin>
How do we know it will melt down if we take out all the control rods? Shouldn't we try?
[Raak]Your first "blacksmith" has had me laughing since you wrote it. Nicely done, sir.
If you pull out this thing as far as it will go and stand here holding your lunchbox, you can toast your sandwiches and get a nice tan in about two minutes.
What flavour quarks? er... chocolate, strawberry or vanilla. Would you like hundreds and thousands?
Ray D Ation? Nah, I'm not into sixties music.
Whoa, no, man... I mean... that water's really... like... heavy...
Of course, atoms are only a theory. Personally, I believe that nuclear energy is the proof of God's bounty, creating energy out of nothing. That's why atheists should be used as reactor shielding. See how long they stay atheists then, exposed to the merciless fire of God's love!
Isn't Fast Breeder a kind of rabbit?
Strontium 90... West Bromwich Albion nil...
Isotope? Is that like getting drunk on your own?
According to my calculations, I can use the Large Hadron Collider to create a black hole that will instantly grow at the speed of light, devouring the Earth in a fraction of a second! You must fund this groundbreaking research!
If you really want to lose weight, you need to reduce your critical body mass by controlling the dark matter abrorbed through the body's fatty tissue.
IT'S PRONOUNCED NUC-U-LAR, YOU IDIOT!!
I prefer to barbecue over charcoal, but I can never get the bloody stuff to light.
I love a good old 9 to 5 job.
If I bring in leftovers for lunch, can I use your kit to heat 'em up?
President Ahmedinejad said it was OK if I filmed the set-up here. Honest.
I know that under those conditions the accepted practice is to yell "Emergency! Scram the reactor!", but I feel "Alah-u Akbar!" is shorter and more punchy.
Game's slowing down again.
Shepherd
Angels? What are those then? I mean, I'm all for knocking off and going down the pub, but voices in the sky singing about how we're all to go down to this scruffy travellers' inn, sounds like you've had a few already. More likely some local band advertising their gig in the back garden.
(at the interview) My philosophy is that each sheep is an individual, and it is the shepherd's job to support them toward their own self-defined goals.
Wool? No, no. Totally allergic. That's why I have to wear man-made fibres.
Now that's a beautiful sheep. Where are my wellies.
I'm convinced they can fly with enough determination. Of course, the initial results have been a little disappointing. Maybe I need a higher cliff.
No worries sir, my strict training regime will have them ready for the Grand National, no doubt!
No, that's no problem, I'll just let them mix with my pack of wolves.
Now, I have a very good recipe for mint sauce.
I'm sorry, I can't watch the sheep tonight, I'm washing my socks.
Now that I've painted them lots of different colours it will save time not having to dye the wool later.
No worries on the 'falling asleep' front, I can't count.
Lambing season's best. Let a few die, it makes a treat for the dogs.
I'll report you for discriminating against me just because I'm agoraphobic.
Shall I carve?
(traditional yell from car windows at spring time where I come from) MINT SAUCE! REDCURRANT JELLY! GRAAAAVY! GET IN MY BELLY!
Oh, hold on a minute. Sheep are the ones with curly tails, aren't they? Go 'oink'. That's right, isn't it?
So, I make a loud noise and they run towards the guys with the shotguns, right?
How can you expect me to out in this weather? I'll get soaked.
I don't care! Bleat as much as you like! Nobody's going back to the pen until we've mastered this Busby Berkeley routine! OK, from the top, and this time keep in step!!
Shit! The sky's red! Must be a nuclear attack! Duck, everyone!
"WOLF! WOLF! Ha Ha, just kidding."
If I bring my cape, could I be a shepherd spy? No? Oh sorry... I'll get me coat...
I think we need another job.
Stand-up comedian
Spooky. That was the one I was thinking of as well.

"In this my eleventh Budget, my report to the country is of rising employment and rising investment; continuing low inflation, and low interest and mortgage rates . . ."

"What a lovely audience you are but first let us pray to God the All Mighty. Father bless this place and ..."
So, what about cancer? One little cell screws up, and then boom!, they're all at it. I mean, what's with that? It's like you got a bunch of little sheep cells there in your body 'Baaaah, baaaaah, metaaaaastaaaaasize. And have you noticed how funny people behave when they get cancer in their brain...
To understand the next joke, you need to know a few things about cosmology and string theory. In the space of braided triples over the octonions...
"Any jokes, shaggy dog stories and opinions I am about to tell you here this evening that being told by me and are intended for this audience and should not be repeated unless approval has been explicitly stated. Anything I say that may or may not be humourous and comical is intended solely the individuals or entity that make up the audience. If you are not the intended recipient..."
There are many amusing things that happen in my job as a management consultant, and this evening I should like to recount a few, which I am sure you will enjoy.
Good evening and f**k you all, quite frankly, you overprivileged white (well, mostly) middle class hypocritical c**ts.
Islam, eh? I was planning a joke about it, but they told me it would bomb...
Peace, man, peace, I'm da rappin' policeman. I'm tappin' on your window and ello ello ello, innit? I'm drivin' in my car, an' arrestin' you for marijuana. (continues for ten minutes)
Erm...erm... is this thing on?...*thud*...*crackle*...can you all hear me back there?...Hello?..*bzzzzt*....I say *crackle* can you all...can you *crackle* hear me?...*CRACK*...Sorry, not used to these microphones...is that better? can you all hear...I say, can you all hear me back there?...
They say the best comedians are laughing on the outside but crying on the inside. Well, frankly, I couldn't give a shit. In this business, it's all down to the quality of the audiences. So, I hope you lot are the 'laughing on the outside' types, or I'll be sending the boys with the baseball bats into the auditorium.
LAUGH, YOU BASTARDS! THAT WAS A F***ING JOKE!
My name's Mark and I DESPERATELY WANT A SHAG. (pause) I DESPERATELY WANT A SHAG. (pause, clears throat). OK, you're probably not going to like the rest of my routine, then.
Let's talk about rape.
The title of my talk tonight is "The Comic Turn in XIXth-Century German Philosophy: Kant's Critique of Judgement Considered as a Work of Satire".
So, remember when you were young and you used to masturbate to pictures of Giant Haystacks...? We've all done it, haven't we? Haven't we?
RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT ..... [insert the sound of shattered chandeliers crashing to the floor *HERE* amid intermittent gunfire] ....A-TAT-A-TAT... Now if all the ladies present will remove their jewelry and place it along with their other valuables and credit cards onto the table before them and you gents do the same with your wallets. My able assistants will move among you and collect it. Let's have no dead heroes, and I am sure you will all be laughing about this tomorrow.
I say, I say, I say. There was -- no, there were -- an Englishman, a Scotsman, and an Irishman -- no that's wrong, there were an Englishman, a German, and...hold on, let me check my notes...
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...
"Ddyn cerddedig i mewn i dafarn..."
Who is that talking while I'm talking? I can wait all night if necessary; it's your time you're wasting. Very well, since we can't behave like grownups, everybody: fingers on lips, bottoms on the floor.
"why did the chicken cross the road?"
"ghImlu'meH QaQ jaj vaghdich!"
Allahu Akbar!
[CdM] I've got a cancer-centred routine. My dad died of cancer seven years ago, they rang me up from the hospital and said 'Sorry, I'm afraid we've lost your dad'. I said "don't worry, he can't have got far in his condition". Bloody NHS, couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery, but the responses are pre-programmed from a very young age, aren't they, so I went through them: "have you looked properly?", "where did you see him last", "think back to what you were doing when you last had him"... and so on and so forth.
Tony Blair! Gordon Brown? Gordon Bennett! GEORGE DUBYA BUUUUSH!! Eyeraq! Afghanistan! Maggie Thatcher!
Prostitute
Read any good books lately?
How much did your peerage cost?
Thank you for choosing me for your pleasure today. I hope you have a safe journey home, and will consider using me for your pleasure again. As you leave, please pick up a customer satisfaction survey, which you can fill out and return to me via the attached pre-paid envelope.
I'm not touching THAT.
How am I doing?
I'm just going to take a quick photo for my files, whilst you fill out this questionnaire.
Don't mind the guy in the corner - he's from the News of the World and he's doing an investigation.
I've got a special offer on STDs, buy one get one free.
Do you mind if the inspector here sits in and observes? Don't worry, she's here to assess my performance, not yours.
Hello sailor. Fancy a grim time?
They call me Madam Vodafone. I charge by the second.
I'm a bit busy tonight, darling. Do you mind sharing a session with someone else? You get a discount.
No, I've called myself Madam Whiplash ever since I was in a road accident. © Smith & Jones
Fancy a nice cup of tea and a cuddle?
How's my riding? Call 0800 152 6424.
[not sure if that is the same as Kim's earlier post]
...slurp....slurp....CHOMP...............
Hi! I'm Lorena Bobbit.
By the way doll, this is Rollo, he is now going to penalize you for early withdrawal.
"I hate men....PTOOOOOOIIIIIIEEEEEEEE......I cut their balls off.....feeelthy peegs!!!"
Just a word before we start about the theory behind my practice, I use a range of sexual modalities to enable us both to explore and work through the emotional, cultural and genital aspects of your feelings. I want you to know that all of your desires are legitimated in this context and I'm targeting this session towards the objectives that you can see I've written up here on the whiteboard. Do feel free to mention if you'd like us to re-examine those objectives together and perhaps amend them according to your needs as a client and mine as a practitioner. Now, are you happy if we start with the tits?
You pay this much three times a week? Wouldn't it be cheaper to just have your bits chopped off? And think of all the time you'd save!
Pheee-ewwwwwwww ... c'mon over here doll and tell me, does this smell gangrenous ???
Sorry, I dozed off for a second.
By entering these premises you agree that sessions may be recorded for staff training purposes and that data collected may be shared with other businesses.
How much do I owe you?
Open wide...
Just lie back and think of England.
[KNOCK] [KNOCK] Oh blessed heavens, Mr. Jones, I have been searching for you for days. You accidentally left your wallet and credit cards in the motel room, here they are. No thank you, knowing you have them back safely is reward enough.
Crap car, love. Got a big dick have you?
Hello Mr. Floppy!
You can't afford me, duck, now p*ss off.
I always 'ave a garlic sandwich for lunch. Stops me gettin' colds.
Oh whoopee, I just won the lottery.
Announcer for the Speaking Clock
"....TICK.....TOCK....TICK....TOCK....TICK...."
*snore*
AT THE T'IRD STROKE, THE TOIME SPONSORED BY THE ORANGE ORDER WULL BE SUX FIFTEEN PRESOISLY (Apologies for any transcription errors trying to represent that dialect.)
Have you got the time?
Time, grasshopper, is an illusion. Look deeply into yourself and you will find that you will know what it is time for.
It's about 7 or thereabouts, I think. Maybe later.
At the third stroke, it will be time for another drink.
Thank you for calling the philosophical speaking clock. Before we can commit to applying a particular scale and measurement to this thing we call "time", I think it's important that we can be sure we know what is meant by the term. In this phone call, I will marshal evidence from the disciplines of physics, theology and flower arranging to consider a range of interpretations of the concept of time and will problematise both the classical notion of time as a continuous dimension and the more recent idea of time as a quantum phenomenon. As always in these matters, it is well to return to Aristotle, who said...
F***! My watch has stopped!
As wur murm ra chumm spunsurd bur aggariff ull bee ert furfur erruree. BEEP BEEP BEEP
Thank you for calling the fundamentalist speaking clock. At the third stroke it'll be exactly 6004 years, 13 months, 16 days, 5 hours, 4 minutes and 40 seconds since creation.
It's time you got a watch, hur hur.
This is a really stupid job, I mean, you can get wristwatches that automatically synchronise to the Riugby transmitter, and any sensible mobile phone will sync as soon as you turn it on, and you can get the time over the internet, and your cable feed will keep your DVR on time, so what does anyone need to ring me up for? It's like that woman who carried the time from Greenwich to London right up until 1939, when they'd had the telegraph since the nineteenth century. This isn't a proper job, it's a living history exhibit, and at the third stroke it will be time to heave yourself into the 21st century.
"ohhhhh baby, I know how you like it....slowwww and steeeeady...tick tock....tick tock...oh yesssss...that's the rhythm you like.....and I can give it to you darling, 24/7....tick tock....tick tock....i won't let you down doll, 'cause I've got ambidextrous hands....and a one track mind....tick tock....tick tock....slowwww and steeeeady....just the way you like it....ohhhhhhhhhh yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh....who's your daddy now?.....tick tock....tick tock...."

My first is in flannel but not in towel my second's in shovel and also in trowel
my third is in upshot and utter and u-bolt my fourth is in rifle and also in Northolt
my fifth is in twaddle and teaspoon and teddy my sixth is in Helen but never in Reddy
my seventh in iron is first in the line my eighth is in red sky a delightful sign
my ninth is in toothbrush and taxi and tack my tenth is in yo-yo and yam and in yak
just add thirty seconds, by now make it fifty and you've got the time without looking. How nifty!
At the th..th..th..third st..st..st..strohfuckit.
Chill, man, who cares what time it is? Put down the phone, walk barefoot through the grass, turn on, tune in, drop out.
The big hand is pointing somewhere between the twelve and the one, the little hand is pointing somewhere between the three and the six. So it must be twenty past twelve. or so. ish.
At the third stroke it will be three eighty-six and ninety seconds.
At the third stroke, Mr. Bond, the device will detonate. Say your prayers, 007.
:)
Leaving Mr Bond on a cliffhanger, we move on to: Personal Trainers
Got a light?
The best thing for a broken leg is to just keep on running. The more it hurts, the more it's healing.
Look! The sooner you finish the two press-ups, the sooner we can get down to the Sunday Buffet at the Chinese. It's 9.99 for everything you can eat today.
I steal your girlfriend!
Well if you can't be bothered, neither can I.
No, I promise you, it's just a vitamin supplement.
Christ, these things are heavy!
Sex?
It helps if you use the equipment whilst naked. At least, it helps me :op
Fourteen....fifteen....keep going....sixteen...nineteen, sevent - wait - hang on - oh, bugger, we'd better start again - one...two...keep going....three....
My God, you're sweating, how disgusting!
Look into my eyes, you are feeling very sleepy...
Here boy, here boy, Over to the running machine! Come on! That's it. Goooooood boy. Have a chocolate treat. All right, come on, boy, jump up. Gooood. All right, here we go... Walkies!
I used to be a fat bastard like you.
If it's an effort, you're doing it wrong.
Now, sit on the floor cross-legged, lotus posture if you can manage it, close your eyes, and chant along wth me, "Ommmmm.....", and as you feel the vibrations filling you, visualise those muscles getting stronger, "OMMMmmmmmmm.........., imagine running effortlessly, "OMMMMMMmmmmmmm.............."
Sorry, but if you don't go into cardiac arrest, you're just not trying hard enough.
Now remember, these are toning exercises, you don't want to develop horrid nasty muscles.
Hello? - Sorry, can't come next week - done me back in.
Get that arse!
Right, twenty pressups NOW, and if I see that flabby belly touch the floor once, *thwack* it'll be six more of these *thwack*. And remember to say "Thank you, Mistress" after each one or you'll get an hour chained to the treadmill.
Bit of a set-up this one: Anthropomorphic personification
<diplomatic> I can't quite see what's required here.</diplomatic>
[Rosie] I think perhaps Simons' title is too broad. He may be asking for "furry fandom" input, on the other hand he may, for example, mean the tall skeleton with the hooded black robe and the scythe. I think clarification is required before any posts can be made, or we'll all be confused.
Is it the old Goon Show joke?
"Would you like to see my impressions of wax fruit?"
"Can you do a banana?"
Pause... "In the privacy of your own home, you CAN do a banana."
[gil] It's your turn in the barrel.
If any of those ****ing brats are wake up when I go to get the tooth they can ****ing swing for their ****ing pound
[all] Ah, I see what you mean. I did intend to cover all forms of avatar, including the bony chap, but in hindsight that is a bit broad. Carry on with the tooth fairy?

Dear Lucy,
            Your recent payment of one incisor was credited to your account yesterday. Be aware that due to shifts in certain volatile market assets you are currently in a position of significant negative equity vis-a-vis your dental assemblage. I have regretfully decided to foreclose on your remaining debt and would appreciate your payment of the outstanding balance (currently assessed at two canines, a premolar, two molars and a wisdom tooth) by close of business Thursday.

Yours Sincerely,

T. Fairy.
Of course, Gary Larson did it best in The Far Side with his psychotic "Next time I'm bringing the pliers, Billy" letter from the tooth fairy.
Yes little girl, you can have a rummage around in Santa's sack. No, I leave the big one at the North Pole, this one is more, sort of, Santa's pouch.
Dear William,
It has come to my attention that your brother George has never provided me with a tooth in trade. I would muchly like to add one of his pristine enamels to my collection, but based on his unwillingness to cooperate, I beseech you to acquire one for me. I will pay triple the going rate. It would please me to no ends if you would procure for me the complete collection, at which time I may have another little favor to ask.
Yours In Good Faith,

T. Fairy.

p.s. I have hidden a mallet beneath your bed.
Upper right two and four, lower right three and two lower left one. Come on.
A pink podume to anyone who recognises the above quote. It was brought to my mind by the death of Dick Vosburgh last week.
Oh gawd, its nearly dawn and I can't get rid of these nicotine stains!
"Little boy, would you like to come sleepover at my Neverland ranch?"
[bob] Coffee all over the place.
*jangling chord* NOBODY expects Santa Claus! Our two weapons are our sinister laugh *HO HO HO* and our menacing red cloak -- and our minute record of all your sins... Our three weapons...
What about your knobbly sack?
Among our multiple and diverse weapons of terror are these: our sinister laugh *HO HO HO*, our menacing red cloak with the furry bits, our record of your sins, our knobbly sack, and our little elves. Will you confess now, or must we play you -- THE JINGLE BELLS! *evil maniacal laughter*
"IOU 5 cents, please add it to my tab."
"£14.50, Johnny. That'll teach you to sleep with your head under the pillow." © T. Pratchett
[isp] ouch!!! LOL
Time for a change?
Pope
"Mazel tov... oops"
"Can't we get some birds in and have a knees-up?"
"Get that arse!"
"La ilaha illa Allah. Muhammadun rasulullah."
The creation story's not meant to be taken literally...
I am so totally not gonna wear that dumb hat in public!
"Erm... I appear to have a turret in my car, but someone's nicked the machine gun..."
"You know what women are like".
I talk to God...
"Hi! I'm David Icke!"
What do you mean, women aren't allowed to be Pope?
Let's do the Spanish Inquisition sketch!
I was only obeying orders!
"Can I get an audience with Bono?"
Dear God, please make it chocolate pudding for lunch today!
Charity to the poor? But I don't understand this. What's in it for us? We need to be maximising our yield, here, not giving the green stuff away! Who hired this nincompoop?
"I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition"
The Church should institute a vow of poverty for all of its officials and servants.
Time to invade Italy and take back my kingdom. Roll out the tanks, Cardinal General Bellarini!
Of course I support a woman's right to choose! What do you think I am, some kind of fascist?
Ma Dad loved his fitba'. Supported Rangers, aye.
What have the Roman Catholics ever done for us?
We need to reexamine our basic brand proposition, and establish new conversations that let our customers talk directly to us. I've hired Mr. Wormwood here from Screwtape.com to create opportunities to enable new user-centred engagement modes and collectively emergent reevaluation of traditional doctrine. To keep up to date on these exciting developments, subscribe to my blog, and read the new College of Cardinals wiki.

(I am delighted to record that rab's spam-detector turned up its nose at that until I invoked the name of our patron saint.)

Yes, I wear the cilice, but it won't show under my papal robes.
That Dan Brown knows his stuff, eh!
Of course I make the odd mistake - we all do. I'm not infallible, you know.
hare krishna, hare krishna, krishnoops!
Do you mind, that's my copy of Watchtower.
Personally, I think Satan's had a very bad press.
Meine Ehre heißt Treue
The porn film was a very, very long time ago. Can't we forgive and forget?
There's these two nuns in a bath, right....
What's all that smoke?
"So you say your are a Merovingian and you have come to collect what?"
Just between us, can't we stop pretending? I mean, no-one inside the Church actually believes any of this stuff, do they?
That would be an ecumenical matter!
[Phil] Feck! Girls!
We need to make the services more relevant to young people of today. How about this? "Asch nazg durbatuluk! Asch nazg gimbatul! Asch nazg thrakatuluk! Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!" Doesn't that have a ring to it? Much better than all that boring old Latin.
The Vatican's primary purpose is of course sexual. It is a graphic representation of the phallic power of the Catholic Church. [nfras] You forgot Arse!
Jesus f***ing Christ all-f***ing-mighty!
[Phil] :op
"You know me, I'm never right!"
"These condoms don't fit..."
Here's one in poor taste, for a change: Thank heaven for little girls
My secretary's got herself pregnant but fortunately she's going to ged rid of it.
[Rosie] hehehehehehehe
I intend to make the entire Vatican archives public and publish them on the Internet.
"Bad monkey! Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad monkey!"
"Yes, of course I am a woman, what's wrong with that?"
[IS,P!] Thought I'd ignore subtlety for a bit.
"In nomine Patris, et filii et Spiritus Sancti...non verum Deo credo."
I think we should pack in this whole Pope thing and rejoin the Orthodox churches.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
And as the would-be Pope is taken away by the Spanish Inquisition, let's hear a Prime Minister talk himself out of a job.
I'm going to be completely honest with you...
All this power - it's wonderful!
I'm not coming in. I'm having a duvet day.
Hello. Madame Fifi's? Can you please send a couple of your girls over. Yes, the front door will be fine.
(come to think of it, that would have done for the previous subject as well)
You got the substances?
We need to consider the true meaning of democracy and consider whether elections are still fit for purpose in the twenty-first century. I see the role of PM not as being given power by the electorate to rule over them for five years but as about an ongoing process of managing their concerns through truly people-centred consultation processes which will achieve a continuity which I believe people really want instead of chopping and changing with every election. If you ask the man in the street what he wants, he doesn't care about abstract political ideologies, he wants the local council to mend holes in the road and he wants the trains to run on time, and going to the polls every few years just creates needless disruption.
I feel compelled to repeat: "Get that arse!"
"My esteemed members of the cabinet, all matters of state are herewith put on hold until further notice, as I am called elsewhere as a matter of urgency. Beginning tomorrow I will be touring with Gilbert and Sullivan with whom I am to be a pirate in The Pirates of Penzance .... flouting my bright silver buckles and my tight shiny pants. Gentlemen, I want to sing and dance!"
(Phil) I don't think you can have that one because without a shadow of doubt extracurricular shagging is a perk of the job and that of several lesser ones in government.
[Rosie] The context I had in mind was during PM's Questions.
I refer the right honorable gentleman to my butt.
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