One wag wrote in the Comments section:
They should give some to the Ibrox club. They’re going through a difficult period.
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908 grams as a proportion is impressive.
Top Tip: If you want to capture a castle, invade through the gift shop. It’s normally staffed by OAP’s who won’t put up a fight.
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Got a new venture that needs some promotion? Perhaps Alpaca hide boots, a new Wankel Rotary based sex toy, or a Schumann wave therapy centre.
These people have the team to get your message across. (Sadly it appears Nathan Barley no longer works there)
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Clowns eh?
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If he wasn’t petrified of clowns before, I bet he fucking well is now 
Dogging clown ? 
Banged worse, and somewhat surprisingly, not been stabbed by anything worse than a hypodermic needle as a result of it…
When a clown says “trust me”, you get the fuck out of there. Not hard really
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As long as they don’t go for the juggler…
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You have never got between Pete and his scran then 
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I’m an idiot, but I’m not fucking suicidal! 
Too fucking long.
You’re missing a treat. Very funny.
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I got 10 paragraphs in and hadn’t laughed.
That’s where it begins…
On way to work, starts kicking in. You know when the roof of your mouth starts politely folding your brain in half, and your chest flutters like a cathedral filled with bees? I was holding it together but knew if I stopped concentrating for one second, I would become time itself.
A much better beginning
“We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.”
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