My solar plexus stops working when the sun goes in.

All cows are called Colin.

This is how "Colindale" got its name.

All pigs are called Birmingham.

. . . except me.

All chickens have one purple feather just under their left wingpit

I used to own a walking stick which was fluent in fourteen languages. Unfortunately, none of them was English, so I encouraged it to follow an academic career at Leeds University, where it is now a staff professor.

groan.
The equator is far from being an imaginary line -- it is, in fact, the seam where the top half of the Earth unscrews. The interior is used to store fudge.

There is no such thing as pie.

Chain-link fences are woven by large mechanical spiders..

I store a large jug of platypus milk in my hat, just in case of emergencies.

Dunx] My walking stick was crap - it limped.

I suffer from an acute phobia of spignurtles, although fortunately these are not due to be invented until the year 2178.

I am not an American.

I worked at the white House in the 90's. I have the distinction of being the only woman there that Bill Clinton did not hit on. I have to have therapy, as a result.

[Tina]Yes, I remember you from your antics in the ante-room.

Thyme heals all wounds.

Tina] What an amazing coincidence! I also worked at the White House in the 90's. Sadly I had to leave office in January 2001 – after having hit on every woman in my employment except one.

Many people have scoffed at Secretary-of-State and former general Colin Powell for pronouncing his forename with the long 'o' sound, but it is actually a homage to the fact that he has discovered he is descended from one of Louis Pasteur's original specimens of E-Coli. George W. Bush's great-great-great grandfather was actually a sneeze from George Washington's horse.

There is no such thing as America

Chalk is actually fossilized snow.

Riff - you have a poor sense of humour. I am not glad you are posting here.

I'm glad Bob hasn't posted anything about a small mammalian superhero lately.

[Bob] Your words offend me greatly; I rue the day I came here.

Atop the Rotunda, overlooking the dilapidated and crumbling 1960s concrete Bull Ring arcade, evil Birmingham city centre development engineers plot a complete redevelopment of the entire West Midlands into the worlds biggest handbag-shaped shopping experience. Could this be another job for "Planning objection Gerbil"?