He’s from Barcelona

Readers from any country unlucky enough not to be TV-syndicated 1970s British comedy (no no, really, you’ve missed out…) will most likely not understand this at all. I do apologise.

This morning I glanced at the packet in which Harry’s new bath boats arrived, and spotted a fabulous typo.

This made me extremely nostalgic for a bit of Basil, and I have felt strangely compelled to include gratuitous clips for your viewing pleasure. Bizarrely, I could find no decent short clips of Manuel being walloped. Shame!

Changing the subject, Work have left me a phone message saying that they Would Like To Talk. I expect they would like to know when I’m going back to work. If they have hopes of this, I feel they may be due a dashing.

Why should I let the toad work

Squat on my life?

Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork

And drive the brute off?

Ah, were I courageous enough

To shout Stuff your pension!

Philip Larkin; Toads

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