Statements of Positivity

I like Zionists because, in all my time among the tetrapods, cuttlefish and gnus, I have never met snappier dressers.

You have a striking mien when regarding that sousaphone – one suggestive of orchards, poems in the sunshine, fuzzbox guitar à la Slowdive, lemons, and Lillian Gish.

Last week I brought my doctor grapes. He told me he didn’t like grapes, but he would perform that hysterectomy anyway, gratis. I said thank you and flashed a bit of leg (I know what he likes).

I don’t understand the purpose of poetry but I do like poets. They are cute little urchins who realise what they are doing isn’t art, but a sort of charming word puppetry. Aww, they are so cute!

I will never be beautiful like Richard Bacon, but I can steal his face and walk around in the guise of a BBC Radio 5 host, making observant remarks about current affairs that die in the moment.

They still make Lilt. This is a fizzy beverage forgotten in the passing of time, but it is still as delicious, despite the clock’s wrath.

People who use the words “hitherto” or “ipso facto” in conversation will die sooner than us, so all is well.

Online booksellers selling ex-library stock “like new” will meet their sticky ends when I ram that fireball nether-wards.

Donna McPhail. I remember you. I thought you were the funniest one on The Sunday Show.

Cuddlecore maestros Cub thought they might make a few bucks from their song “Everyday With Chico” when the reality TV star was at his peak. Alas, he faded from our hearts and the moment passed. Ah well.

Pea and salad and lettuce make us healthy. Small balding men who stand in shops listening to football instead of loving their customers do not, and will die when The Reckoning is upon us.

B.S. Johnson was once among us.

Custard is not an apt substitute for cardboard. Try boxing up a broken window with Ambrosia. See?

Money is the root of all evil, but evil roots cost money to repair. That dentist won’t be paid in proverbs, no siree.

Love yourself. You are better than the others.