"Oh, you've read about it on the Daily Mail, right? Dear girls, will you ever learn not to believe every single word you read on those shitty tabloids, that's a pile of rubbish!
A bit rubbish, actually. Silly thing had no idea what she was doing. I had to walk her through every step. Where do you think the sketch in MoL came from?
John, how long does it take you to polish your awards every morning?
"Mikey? Oh, don't ask Garry. He wasn't my servant when it happened. Let me think...June 1967, mmm...or was it 1968...no, no, my memory refuses to cooperate with me at this moment.
Mmm, can you...can you bow yourself a little more?..."
John, what are you* doing in this very moment?
* Sory MR Thumbl im no perfect, my englisch very bed, very very bed end iven if i try my best i some time forget words to type. forgive me?
"Less than Mr. Two Sheds, if that's what you mean, moron."
If you are referring to my good friend Arthur (two sheds) Jackson then I wish to register a complaint.
John, what is your complaint about Arthur, and why can't you finish an interview? Must you automatically multiply everything by 4, and why can't you answer more than one question at a time. I could go on.
"To go back a bit: The girl to whom I lost my virginity, whom I shall refer to as "Kiwi", was a girl around my age who had taken a fancy to me. I thought, "Well, I'm 24 years old, I'd better get this over with." So I went to a store to buy her some perfume, thinking that if she smelled really good, I might enjoy it a bit more. So I tried several perfumes on myself, and picked one. But I had to have a New Zealand driving test before our hookup. I went to my test reeking of women's perfume. The driving instructor must have wondered... But later that night, on the second floor of the Station House Hotel in Auckland, Kiwi helped me break my duck."
"At least, that's about the way I usually tell it..."