Wednesday 3 August 2011

Rock Hammer


It has been far too long since my last compilation of tweets.

Not in the sense that people miss them. Far from it. In fact, I think people actively dislike these posts. It's a chore.

But it takes a surprisingly long time to copy and paste these, and leaving it too long means I have a mountain to climb. It's like tunnelling through a prison wall. You want to do it in increments.

If Andy Dufresne had left his tunnelling to the very last day, The Shawshank Redemption would ended on more of a down note. Just him getting frustrated and deciding to make the best of things.

The Shawshank Resignation.

That's what this is.

But it's certainly funnier than prison! So strap yourselves down for a barrage of hilarity in bite-sized chunks. All of these came out of my brain. Except the ones that came out of other organs (like my skin).

That's right - it's another edition of:

Tweets Are Funnier Than Prison

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I think all of my personality problems come from not being retweeted enough as a child.

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What's the best thing to shout when committing a robbery? I think it's "hands up" hands down.

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El Kabong was based on a real-life series of guitar attacks.

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Repurpose your broken computer by using it as a prop in a play about a computer that has been broken (by a fireman, for example).

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If you spin round fast enough, you get the whole Pret A Manger to yourself.

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Top Cat was a real prick.

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Before you get any ideas, you should know my beard is below the age of consent.

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If I'm awake for more than 3 hours in a row, my body rebels. But HR claim there's "nothing they can do" no matter how many photos I send.

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I hate it when you hold a door open for someone and they don't say thank you. Same with a dressing gown.

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I love printing things. It's like giving paper a boring tattoo. (They'll regret it when they're older)

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I love being able to check my bank balance online, because weeping at a cash machine is gauche.

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"Will accidents happen" - careless inheritance lawyer.

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The best Jim Carrey film is Jambalaya Jambalaya. He plays a lawyer who's unable to be a rice dish, because of a wish made by his idiot son.

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I'm not sure about this new fashion for umbrellas. They're EVERYWHERE. Someone should write a song about one.

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Backgammon is a game of strategy and skill. Frontgammon is an appalling euphemism.

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The enemy of my enemy is Lawrie McMenemy.

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"A house divided against itself is like a fat, drunk, paper snake: it cannot stand. You got me?" - Abraham Lincoln's first draft.

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I'm sorry, Miss Braxton. We cannot un-break your heart. Neither are we able to un-toast your toast. It's toast. It's broken. Get used to it.

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A very formal person will refer to their scalp-flakes as 'danieldruff'.

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I used to enjoy playing slide guitar, but eventually got tired of all the children kicking me in the back.

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I hope people who insist on using a typewriter in the 21st century also drink brown water out of a rat carcass. You know: for the romance.

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Do you ever imagine that your web browser's scroll bar is an elevator shaft, and speculate about the occupants of the lift? I know I don't.

[Editor/Paul Note - I wasn't quite sure if this idea was clearly expressed. I meant this:
You see? Anyway, I DON'T do that.]

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If Bill Gates had ANY SENSE, he'd put a tiny John McClane on top of that scroll bar. And a wise-cracking limo driver in the Start menu.

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There aren't enough mixtures in my life as an adult. I suppose because I have fewer coughs, and am rarely in need of bubbles.

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Here's an extract from a screenplay I've been working on: "JACK: No. Not that one. Bottom left. No, LEFT." (It's about Kosovo)

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What's the legal status of an umpteen-year-old? (Asking for a friend)

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Roses are the only chocolates with a creamy garden centre.

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As my Twitter feed gets longer, the scroll bar elevator gets smaller and smaller. Soon the occupants will be crushed to death.

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I just refreshed the page to save the lives of the scroll bar lift occupants. It now has ridiculously high ceilings. I'm a benevolent god.

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Power corrupts. But absolute power over the fictional occupants of an imaginary lift on a computer screen doesn't really.

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Remember when they changed the name of Constantinople Fruits to Istanburst? Took some getting used to.

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If you had the power to go back in time and kill Hitler, which one would you do?

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I find the idea of arranged marriages utterly disgusting. I prefer marriages to be more off-the-cuff. Like Whose Line Is It Anyway.

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MOVIE TRIVIA: Spielberg originally wanted to call his film Jars. Budget constraints (expensive glass) forced him to rewrite it about sharks.

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MOVIE TRIVIA: Orson Welles's famous 'cuckoo clock' speech in The Third Man was entirely invented by Roger Ebert in 1988. It was never filmed

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MOVIE TRIVIA: During the filming of Home Alone, actor Macaulay Culkin was never actually alone. A film crew kept him company at all times.

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From a bat's perspective, cheese on toast is toast on cheese.

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My eyes are watering. I've been staring at my screen for too long. And reminiscing about onions.

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Any friend of a weight-triggered explosive device is a friend of mine.

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I respect anyone who has the guts to break down and absorb nutrients in food.

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Thirteen is the most unlucky number of times to be run over.

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My entire life has been building to this mometn.

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I used to drink ten units per day. Which is why I was thrown out of the army.

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It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong, especially if you're trapped on a falling bear.

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Sitcom Pitch: LUNG AT HEART - A human heart (played by Chris Klein) discovers he's adopted, and must live with his lung-lost twin brother!

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Saturday afternoon slightly spoiled by what sounds like a man mowing an Acropolis outside.

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I always refer to cling film by its unabbreviated name: killing film. Especially pertinent when I use it.

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Sometimes I like to pretend I've gone back in time by looking at a newspaper and doing a double-take.

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"You did WHAT!?!" - an extract from my book about Princess Diana.

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If your horseshoes keep getting stolen, call a blocksmith.

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To work out how many times a tree has been engaged, cut into it and count the rings.

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When in a restaurant, slip the waiter a note that reads: "plates". They'll get the idea. I've never yet eaten ravioli out of a water jug.

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Lazy celebrities give you their autograph. I always ask for a manualgraph.

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It's such a beautiful day out there, I'm going to completely cover myself in a tarpaulin that's slightly more translucent than usual.

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I just made myself laugh at knifepoint.

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In a vacuum, all 'k's are silent.

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If you go back in time and kill your own uncle, there's not really a problem.

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The years haven't been kind to me. 1995 gave me a dead arm, and I think 1980 is laughing at my hat.

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I've got a special laugh for bad puns. It's a bit like "hrrrr". Like I've started the engine of the world's most disappointing car.

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You can hear "hrrr" quite a lot when I'm reading my own tweets sometimes constantly.

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I should be as leep. I should be just like leep. You should be able to look at me, and then look at leep, and not know which is which.

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I just attacked some cabbage and carrot with a knife. It was coleslawter.

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My πjamas aren't very comfortable. Too many decimal places, not enough genital places.

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Another word for 'synonym'?

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I don't think my signature is distinctive enough, so I'm going to start signing things with a caricature of Charles de Gaulle.

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I feel like a filament in the headlights.

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Computer monitors should be round. Like portholes. It would be like watching the most boring ocean in the world (the Atlantic).

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Also, the right mouse button should be at the top of a crow's nest. But not the left. That would be stupid.

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Oh, I get it. Dawson's Creek. Door sons creak. They do, they do. IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.

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Graduating can be dangerous. I got hit in the head by a mortarboard and was diplomatose for six weeks.

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I can mimic the call of any bird that sounds like Sean Connery.

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I'm three times more likely to read a tweet if it begins "Hey, Andy!". I know I'm not Andy. I just like to be kept in the loop.

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One of my moustache hairs is tickling my nose. Or more than one, working in shifts. The joke will be on them when I dip my face in acid.

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This afternoon, I've been stretching so ostentatiously that my colleagues have called for a priest.

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"You've been hesitating so long, you're almost hesitNINEing! LOL!" - my professional chess career never really took off.

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I don't spread butter on bread. I wipe butter off my knife (with bread).

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"If you like a lot of chocolate on your biscuit, join our club!" - The Freemasons decide to simplify entry requirements.

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Georgie Porgie Puddin' and Pie changed his name by deed poll IMMEDIATELY upon turning 18.

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In France, the Bronze medal is known as the Breleven medal.

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You can open a credit card if you slide a door into it.

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You know the tie-a-string-round-loose-tooth-&-tie-the-other-end-to-a-door-&-slam-the-door tooth removal technique? Doesn't work for kidneys.

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I like it when someone asks me to open a jar for them, because I like to emancipate the contents all over the floor.

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You know some people don't properly rotate the photos they post online? Why aren't you trying to kill them?

[Editor/Paul Note - I realise the picture of David Baddiel below is not rotated. But that is for aesthetic reasons.]

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I think this sock might be enchanted. I can't explain why, but it has some kind of aura. A shoe-shaped aura.

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Even Malcolm X wasn't dignified enough to save the name Malcolm.

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I have an intuition for when Andrew Motion or W. H. Auden are being deceptive. It's poetic lie sense.

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I'd like a bowl of delicious orphanidge. Oats, milk and feelings of abandonment. And golden syrup! Yum!

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I can waste an evening better than anyone else! I might hire out my services and waste the evenings of others.

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If I was a horse, I'd need bigger keys.

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I of have been working on this tweet allday.

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Whenever you hear someone say "Let's finish this!", they're either an action hero in a climactic fight, or someone eating a cheesecake.

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There don't seem to be as many orphans now as there were in Victorian times. I suppose orphanism wasn't an evolutionary advantage.

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I didn't intend to join the Dustpan Uprising. I suppose I was just swept up by it.

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"I don't care about looks. I'm only interested in inner beauty." - if you ever need to justify an endoscope purchase.

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I don't fit in any conventional racial categories. I'm a pigment of my own imagination.

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You know, if these lightbulbs were REALLY energy saving, they'd screw themselves in.

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No-one writes the word 'Mister' out in full anymore. Unless they're referring to someone who mists.

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I'm required to have a pistol fight every time I re-enter the country. (I have duel citizenship)

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My stomach just growled so loudly on the way through the office, people think I'm smuggling tigers. I'm not. I'm not.

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There's a 'SECRECY' button on my phone, but no-one will tell me what it's for.

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When I die, I'd like to have a park stench dedicated to me.

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I yawn so much at work people are starting to think my mouth is permanently agape. I'm going to have to make my tongue more attractive.

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Maybe I should have one of those energy drinks. Called something like Shithammer or Freaked Lightning or AAAAARRRRRGHHHH Light.

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I'd trade one siesta for a hundred Spaniards. And I don't even know what that means.

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I remind me of you.

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Do you ever make eye contact with a stranger in the street and think "I hope he doesn't have conjunctivitis"?

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I'm going to walk to the other end of the office for some water, then give everyone a soggy high-five on the way back.

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Banana comedians slip up on a human-skin.

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It's annoying when you think you're going to sneeze, you're all ready for it, and then someone tells you your godmother is in the hospital.

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My favourite Woody Allen movie is probably 'Allen the Lumberjack'. An underrated classic.

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I've got a nervous tick. Silly, really - he has nothing to worry about.

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I bet Eeyore had a great record collection.

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Opinions are like birthmarks: everyone has one in the shape of a schooner.

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I reckon I could perform an emergency tracheotomy because I used to drink Capri-Sun.

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I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse: "REFUSE THIS OFFER".

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You want to make monkey bars out of units of time? Hang on a minute...

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You want to walk through hoof-dissolving acid? Hold your horses...

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You want to finish the London Marathon at EXACTLY the same time as your clone? Don't get ahead of yourself...

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You can be anyone you want to be. Unless you want to be Claire Forlani. Unless you're Claire Forlani.

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Cutlery usage is like infiltrating the Mafia: you start on the outside and work your way in.

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To avoid bad luck, I always take care to have just the right number of magpies in an orgy.

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Pimm's O'Clock is also known as 'The Cunting Hour'.

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Beauty is truth, truth beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Therefore truth is in the eye of the beholder. Conclusion? BUY GOGGLES.

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I like to shoebar and crowhorn mixed metaphors into every tweet.

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A soothsayer once told me: "You will purchase many books". It was a shelf-fulfilling prophecy.

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Margot ate escargot. She hated the taste, but didn't want to be alone with her ridiculous suffix.

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Look, world. I thought we agreed: when it gets dark, it gets colder. YOU'RE NOT HOLDING UP YOUR END OF THE BARGAIN.

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I just winked at myself in the mirror and it reminded me of when my eyeball was in a tiny sandstorm. 2007 was a crazy year.

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People say Grace before meals and also before the surname of someone called Grace.

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The lasterisk will have no footnote.

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An alternative Truman Show where the main character realises their whole life has been a Mock The Week panel game.

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I reckon there are fewer than two thousand people in the whole world wearing frilly collars. (But that's just a ruff estimate)

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Cheerleaders hoard all those letters they keep asking for. I think they're planning to release their own dictionary.

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Can quadrupeds shrug with their legs (or 'hind shoulders')? If so, I think they have a clear biological advantage.

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In the 80s, Bob Dylan made a concept album about Stellan Skarsgård getting pins and needles, but I prefer his early stuff.

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Tap, tap, tap, at the windowpane. My plumber is an idiot.

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I hate it when you dip a biscuit in your tea and when it's finished, there are loads of crumbs at the bottom and you're still alone at Xmas.

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I'm worried that I might be over-using my electric fan. But how else am I supposed to make nitrogen smoothies? MAGIC?!

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"Stop-Stop-Gadget life support system." - Penny pulls the plug. A sad day for novelty law enforcement.

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"You've got to learn to walk before you can run." Tell that to THE NOSE.

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"Starting a tweet with a 'quote' and then contextualising it with a supplementary comment is passé." - a killjoy.

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As a child, my favourite composer-based toy was probably My Little Ennio Morriconey.

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There's nothing more summery than drinking suntan lotion from a hollowed-out Greek.

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I prefer suave orange juice to the stuff with citric shrapnel in it. I want a liquid in the morning, not some pulpy halfway house.

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The pen is writier than the sword.

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I'm not good at meeting new people. You can only make one first impression, and mine's always of a dying Tommy Cooper.

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I don't want them to think I'm a weirdo, so I overthink my every gesture until I've forgotten how my hands normally go.

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There's no way a tambourine in the shape of a crescent moon could have evolved through natural selection. Explain THAT, Darwin!

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I don't know what these bits are at the bottom of my coffee mug, but I think they might have killed the dinosaurs.

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I don't bother trying to maintain my reputation. I let it grow free and wild, like a complimentary fungus.

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Whenever I look at the clock and it's exactly noon, I'm all like: "Huh".

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When's a good time to take the colander off your head? I generally do it before the eulogy. You know: as a sign of respect.

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Look, can we just merge Austria, Switzerland, Australia and Swaziland? I think it would be a lot easier for everyone. Except taxi drivers.

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If I stumble in the street, I stumble on every subsequent step to make it look deliberate. Then jump in front of a train, just to make sure.

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I always wash my feet before making a salad with my feet.

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I've just realised what a 't'-less hat is called! A ha!

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Rolling your sleeves up is a sign that you're ready to get down to work. Unless you're a cufflink model.

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I hate it when people leave things outside closed charity shops. Blue Cross can't do anything with your dead dog, buddy.

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I'm going to release a book of all my tweets about going to the water cooler. This one will be the introduction.

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My bottle was already half-full before I realised I was accidentally using the DAUGHTER cooler. Embarrassing! (But refreshing)

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If you drink a double espresso out of a marker pen lid, I can't begin to tell you what I think of you.

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I bet Led Zeppelin's website has a lot of Pageviews.

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Silence, when cooked properly, is golden.

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There's nothing more off-putting than fake tan. In a casserole.

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In case you missed it earlier, it was half past nine.

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Today is National Irrational Week.

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I'm gonna rock around the clock tonight. I've put down mats.

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