A post shorter than the Italian national anthem, I promise

Welcome back to Crumpets Today, the quintessentially British babble fest guaranteed to annoy our North American readership. With me today I have professor Blurgle-Spitt of Madeupsville University, who will continue his thesis on falling off a cliff from where he left off last week.

Blurgle-Spitt: I shall begin by reading a short excerpt from my paper. Ahem. "I put it to you, sir, that your face looks like a baboon's arse."

Oh really, Mr Blurgle-Spitt, you German nancy boy? Well I put it to you that your underpants smell like a particularly stinky part of a recently discarded bag of chips.

Blurgle-Spitt: See that 'Roberto' fellow? That's you that is. That's you after a visit to the barber's. The best barber in London's West End, the one Hugh Grant goes to in between extended evening sessions. And not just the three hour ones, we're talking about nine looooong hours and a whole £256.75 worth of 'room service'.

Illogicopedian: Screw this, get to the 'your mum' jokes already!

...And now you know why I never go on IRC. With apologies to Newman and Baddiel.

;)