"Ooh, that's it! Brown ping pong balls. Loads of them! I think I'm on to a winner there."
or click here"Ooooh, I think we've got a wall rumbler, rumbling around between our walls. Why can't they mind their own business? Dirty little wall rumblers."
or click here"You know, I really think you should audition for Britain's Got Talent... at being a cunt. You're a shoo-in for a winner."
or click here__________
Karen's notes: About these wall rumblers - There is some sort of little creature who has made a home underneath our flat (we're on the ground floor), and we sometimes hear it scratching around on the ground beneath our bed. Now, that was happening last night, but it had stopped about 5 minutes before Adam said this. A bit slow on the uptake, my husband.
Irrelevant anecdote: That last one reminds me of the Halloween party we went to last year. The costume competition was titled "Britain's Got Talons". Get it? (and Adam tied for first place with his brilliant Ghostbuster ensemble, constructed from workman's coveralls, a cardboard box, his children's night-light, and parts of our vacuum cleaner.)
Added later: There have been a few requests for a picture of the Halloween costume. I don't think you can tell how utterly brilliant it was from this pic, but here it is: