Hang In There

Right. Let's do this. It's go time. In fact, it's way past go time. It's almost quarter to stop.

I was going to watch the football and write this later, but it's making me feel ill.

The Liverpool fans are booing Patrice Evra for reporting racist abuse. That's disgusting.

It has made me, for the first time in my life, want Manchester United to win a football match. That's equally disgusting.

So I need to cleanse my palate. And what better way to do that than with a delicious sorbet of my recent tweets? There is no better way.

Let's take a look back through the past ten days of bad puns, irritating whimsy and jokes that don't quite work. It will be like leafing through a photo album, except that all of the photos are out of focus, and riddled with red-eye. Even the ones that aren't of eyes.

That's right - it's another edition of my popular regular feature:

The Tweet Locker (like "meat locker")

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I'd like to be swept into power, but only if they did it with a real pretty broom.

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The monocle is an emblem of the upper class. What is it about asymmetrical blindness that's so sophisticated?

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I find human interaction difficult because I hate cynicism and also anyone who has ever enjoyed anything.

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If I had three wishes, I'd firstly get Mick McCarthy to play Ted Danson's character in Bored to Death. Then world peace. Then wish 1 again.

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"Twelve" is a really weird word. There should be some kind of inquest.

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I'm worried one of my hairs is going bald.

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PayPal is LapYap backwards. I don't know what benefits this knowledge will reap.

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Everyone on Twitter should try to post one piece of bad advice each day.

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Remember when we all thought Skunk Anansie were called 'Skunk & Nancy'? The 90s was an amazing time to be alive.

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When I worked at the crash mat factory, I don't think we got the most out of our trust exercises.

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Watching Morse once, I came up with a song which goes: "Lewis, Lewis, I think we have to do this. What's the heartiest foodstuff? Stew is."

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The Lewis song has been stuck in my head for some time. It's surprisingly sombre in tone.

[Paul/Editor's Note: Luckily, with the power of blog, I've been able to record this fantastic "song". It's designed to be played on the guitar with one hand, so you can concentrate on giving Morse the thumbs up.

I should probably close these 'note brackets' now.]

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I shouldn't have put my phone on silent. I just checked it and saw I'd had three mist calls. MIST CAN'T EVEN TALK.

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I'm going to start dabbing my brow with handkerchief. It will make people think I've got a handkerchief.

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I'm going to turn all my tweets into webcomics. I just need to replace all of the adjectives with drawings.

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"This is just like 'Who shot J.R.', isn't it?!" - Me, whenever I hear about a shooting.

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I can't tell you the problems I had with the punctuation in that last tweet.

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I've stopped washing behind my best friend's back.

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Sing this tweet.

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Mutter this tweet under your breath.

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Stop reading this tweet before you get to the final noun.

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Regret reading this tweet immediately.

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All triplets have an innate sense of whether or not the other two are married.

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I wish I could smell my own hair.

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When I answer the phone, and someone says "Is that Mr Fung?", I shout "I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE SURE OF ANYTHING IN MY LIFE", then hang up.

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Kate Bosworth is so anonymous as an actor that I was going to tweet a joke about her anonymity, CERTAIN that she was called 'Kate Boswell'.

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The best thing about having a Kate Bosworth poster on your wall is you can see right through to the brickwork.

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I didn't want to offend Kate, so checked if she was on Twitter. I searched for 'Kate Boswell'. I think this says more about my own problems.

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Nothing raises my spirits more than seeing someone brazenly eating a massive sandwich. I'm surrounded by mirrors.

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Irony is this century's Spanish influenza.

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How long can you spend in the bath before you're out of contention for "Fastest Land Mammal"? I don't want to rule myself out at this stage.

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I'm erecting a plaque dedicated to my heroic procrastination this afternoon. But first, I need to learn how to smelt.

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It's always fun to look and see which search terms have led people to my blog. Here are the stats for this week:

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Whenever I walk through a rough area, I wear my "NEVER BEEN MUGGED" T-shirt. Criminals can't read anything written in sequins.

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I despise the establishment, so I just cut the nose off some brie and mailed it to Brian Sewell.

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The thorn messiah was crucified wearing a crown of little Jesuses.

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You should never put a cat in the microwave or vice versa.

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Coroners are allowed to keep one part of each body they examine. Most of them go for a buttock and use it for painting.

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Farmers never get up early. They just keep that lie circulating because, seriously, who's gonna check?

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Instead of a capital V, you can just type two opposite slashes: \/. So if your V key breaks, it won't be a problem! SEND ME MONEY NOW.

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I don't know why anyone would want a drum kit when they have perfectly good thighs.

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Three first names of Premier League managers are also crimes: Arsene (setting fires), Harry (harrassment), Roberto (stealing from Erto).

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Everyone is posting photos of their babies on Facebook today. They all look identical. I think it's all just one baby, working in shifts.

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I lead an interesting life down an alley and watch it get bludgeoned and robbed.

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When your kids learn to talk, it's amazing for two reasons: 1) They can finally express themselves and 2) You can interrupt them constantly.

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I just accidentally grated the wrong knuckle. What am I going to do with all this index zest?

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I finished a long book today, then went and perused some of the early chapters again to remind me of when I was young.

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I like that instant, Polaroid nostalgia. "Ah, remember before all this photo shaking? My wrist was much less tired then."

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Slug to fellow slug, upon seeing a snail: "Do you think he knows how ridiculous he looks?"

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One of the most obvious indicators that someone is lying is if they nervously finger their "NEVER TRUST ME" badge.

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If you can suck your Victoria sponge through a drinking straw, I recommend asking an expert to look at your oven.

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I've been rubbing this so-called "magic lamb" for hours, and it's only granted one of my wishes (friction-seared mutton).

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I'd never enlist in the army because I'm terrified of medals.

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There are some things you just can't teach if you ever want to see your daughter again.

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The Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles were known as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in the US because heroism is illegal over there.

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Shunning the obvious is in itself obvious. I like to embrace the obvious. It's the last thing anyone would expect.

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If Parma ham has taught us anything, it's that you can glamorise any cured meat by putting a place name in front of it. And the times tables

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In Northampton today, a woodwork teacher was sectioned under the Mental Health Act because he claimed he could hear vices.

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I'm going to write a song about my pillow tonight. (That will also the first line of the song)

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I just googled "The Full English Patient", expecting to find a Ralph Fiennes made of sausage, beans and egg, with a bacon Binoche. NOTHING.

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There's a plastic bag being blown around outside, and now all I can think about is Thora Birch's tits.

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I feel like I'm wasting a lot of storage space by not carrying anything on top of my feet. I could strap two blocks of butter onto them.

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I just cut off all my belt loops and joined them together to make a belt. Then I cut up my trousers to make new belt loops. Problem solved.

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I've got that "parsnip" song in my head.

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"Arsenic" doesn't rhyme with "parsnip". Good try though.

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Tony the Tiger didn't use to roll his 'r's. It was that year at the Sorbonne.

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I woke up on the wrong side of the wok this morning.

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It's difficult to compliment a mirror without people thinking you're arrogant.

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I've started to question my commitment to this twe

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That was a flurry of activity. Now comes the full-on blizzard of inertia.

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It's so cold in our office that David Attenborough just muttered "Fuck THIS", and shuffled off to get a hot chocolate.

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If you want a wooden replica tie (for a Pinocchio costume or something), use the hinged stand from the back of a picture frame.

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The jobs section of the Thames Valley Police website is called "Coppertunities". #untruths

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Mummy, invisible man, burns victim. Probably won't take off as a variant of 'rock-paper-scissors', but I need to get rid of these bandages.

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"Oh God. I'm starting to act like my father." - Jeff Bridges.

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We've just had to ask for a new coat rack. That's four this week. To be honest, I really don't know if we need this many dreamcatchers.

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There's a small area of your back that's impossible to scratch during a shipwreck.

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I'd rather have a scorpion for a face than a scorpion's face for a face.

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A dreaded rainy day, so I meet you at the sedentary gates. Chip and Dale are on your side, while Garfield is on mine.

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The national symbol of Portugal is a massive superfluous 'h'.

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I just had a breakfast of nose on toast. It doesn't taste as good as it smells.

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They were playing "Man in the Mirror" in the coffee shop. I'm going to have myself in my head all day.

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I have very stringent standards for my tweets. I spent some time drafting a "Fearniture Cotton" joke that didn't pass muster.

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I'd rather have sleep than the identity of my father's killer.

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I've been subtly hinting that I'd like a box of warm straw. Perhaps telepathy is TOO subtle.

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Here's a fun game for the next time you're on public transport: nudge the person next to you as many times as you've got skin cells.

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I'm a heptakleptomaniac. I can't resist the urge to steal seven things.

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"No Gloria Paynor, no Gloria Gaynor!" This disco workout video is confusing.

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Apparently, it's impossible to cut a cake in half with a spoon. I'm going to test this hypothesis as soon as my spoon is out of the oven.

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I'm on first name terms with F. Murray Abraham.

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Let's get right down to business! What's that? There's no direct route to business? There's a three hour layover in "Procrastination Gulch"?

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I'd like to draw your attention to justify the expense of my art classes.

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If my children ever ask me what life was like in the 90s, I'll force-feed them No Doubt albums until they stop asking questions.

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It's funny that they were called No Doubt, when they seem to have inspired such ambivalence.

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I find it easier to cope in a cape, to hope in a heap, and to mope in a Costa Coffee.

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I'm looking forward to Easter. Mainly because I need some bunny-neck-circumference-length bits of ribbon for my collection.

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I bet the knuckle really envies those parts of the finger with no obligations.

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I've been terrified of dangling from things ever since I was mugged on a trapeze. That's why I could never hang myself.

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I hate people who speak loudly in restaurants, or into restaurants at distance through a tube.I hate people who speak loudly in restaurants, or into restaurants at distance through a tube.

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Imagine if we all swapped fruit bowls!

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I hope you've enjoyed reading this tweet as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

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I've just set myself a place at the IRRI TABLE. Pass the fucking salt.

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MY FAVOURITE KIDS' BOOK IS JITTERY MYSTERIES BY CAFFEINID BLYTON (I've had some coffee)

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I need to get my hair cut. It's currently so thick I need to part it with a machine gun.

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Reality Show Pitch: NECKS TO NOTHING - Three tall young women, tired of hitting their heads on light fittings, have their necks amputated.

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Film Pitch: MY FRIEND GAVIN- Moving drama about a boy coming to terms with the burden of having a friend called Gavin. Set during Watergate.

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Sitcom Pitch: CLASSIFY THIS! - Hijinks and romance set in the offices of the BBFC. One prude, one liberal, one sadomasochist. Eight laughs!

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I wish columnists would stop talking about "The Rise of [BLANK]". Nothing rises. You're just sinking.

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I aspire to be 20% more nasal by this time next year.

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I'm going to buy an anger sandwich (or "angwich") on the way home. Inside? The children of those who have wronged me. And rocket.

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I just robbed a hosiery shop, with my head covered in bank notes to hide my identity.

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The song 'Old MacDonald Had a Farm' is sung in the past tense, because he was convicted of manslaughter and hanged himself in prison.

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Stick nine plectrums to an piece of A4 white card and pretend it's a giant 9 of Spades! (If you have more or less than nine, it's pointless)

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I keep having recurring dreams where I'm experiencing déjà vu. Then again, it might have just been one dream...

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They should make more savoury shampoos. Some ideas: L'Oreal Vindaloo, Chicken & Mushroom 2 in 1, Head & Shoulders: Egg & Soldiers.

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That last tweet was the first stand-up joke I ever wrote. You can see how I've developed since then. Backwards.

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Russian Roulette Drinking Game: whenever someone takes a shot, take a shot.

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Exquisite or exquisn'tite?

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My phone is running out of battery. I want to call Al Gore to ask his advice, but I don't know if I'll have enough juice to get through.

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Andie MacDowell's Moving Castle

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If you want to make an omelette, you've got to exorcise the ghost that lives on your hob.

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I know that last tweet wasn't great, but E4 have just commissioned a series based on it.

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I know that last tweet was weak cultural "satire", but Radio 4 have just commissioned a series based on it.

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I know this repetition device is a bit annoying, but I'm currently in talks with Christopher Nolan.

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You should dramatically sweep everything off your desk if you're overcome by rage or lust or if the desk is on fire.

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Don't worry. That's not a spider on your forehead.

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Putting subliminal commands in your tweets is totally self-indulgent and maSTABaTORY.

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That was another one of those tweets that I dreamt. When I woke up, I discovered that my genius was foiled by the concept of "spelling".

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The drainpipe across the road is staring at me. And now it's starting to cry. I'm going to move to a different part of the room.

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I might have some Kellogg's Crunchy Nut, but am slightly concerned about their new ad campaign: "Do YOU have a severe mental illness?".

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In researching that last tweet (as I always do), I discovered that the cereal no longer has "Corn Flakes" as part of its name. #interesting

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Also, it's now "Coco Pops" rather than "Coco Choco Puffy Sweet Milk-Colouring Monkey Rice Pops". Scandalous. It's Opal Fruits all over again.

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It's stop time.