Agree. You’d cringe more than laugh watching it. The American office was better. Extras was good but the office really was awful. You can imagine losers like @Bandage[/USER] and @[USER=1537]Horsebox identifying with it and going “oh my god that’s just like where I work, lol!”
Only when I am in the shower
Some things just go straight over your head, don’t they pal?
That’s the clamping to end all clampings.
Put another way, while I see the “humour” in it, it never makes me laugh and I don’t really enjoy it. Maybe you need to be in a job like you and see yourself as the guy licking stamps in the corner or whatever to enjoy it.
People don’t get their post unless somebody puts stamps on the envelopes-you’d do well to remember that.
There’s some great lines in “The Thick Of It”, which I’ve been getting into lately.
Malcolm Tucker could probably carry a thread of his own.
Given your talent for window-licking in school it was a natural career progression for you.
[QUOTE=“Sidney, post: 910247, member: 183”]There’s some great lines in “The Thick Of It”, which I’ve been getting into lately.
Malcolm Tucker could probably carry a thread of his own.[/QUOTE]
He’s a brilliant character.
“He’s about as much use as a marzipan dildo.”
“You’re so back-bench, you’ve actually fucking fallen off. You’re out by the fucking bins where I put you.”
In the Loop has some crackers too.
Y’know, I’ve come across a lot of psychos, but none as fucking boring as you. You are a real boring fuck. Sorry, sorry, I know you disapprove of swearing so I’ll sort that out. You are a boring F, star, star, CUNT!
You say nothing, okay? You stay detached. Otherwise that’s what I’ll do to your retinas.
This effort from[SIZE=4] Il Bomber Destro[/SIZE] on the retiring GAA stars thread.
‘‘Some reports going round that Michael Meehan has quit the Galway panel due to injuries.
Funny that arguably the two best full forwards to burst on the scene around the early 2000’s have had their careers ruined by injuries, the other being *Ronan Clarke.’’
*
Alan Partridge: You farmers, you don’t like outsiders, do you? You like to stick to your own.
Peter Baxendale Thomas: What do you mean by that?
Alan Partridge: I’ve seen the big-eared boys on farms.
Peter Baxendale Thomas: Oh, for goodness’ sake.
Alan Partridge: If you see a lovely field with a family having a picnic, and there’s a nice pond in it, you fill in the pond with concrete, you plough the family into the field, you blow up the tree, and use the leaves to make a dress for your wife who’s also your brother.
[QUOTE=“Il Bomber Destro, post: 967356, member: 2533”]Alan Partridge: You farmers, you don’t like outsiders, do you? You like to stick to your own.
Peter Baxendale Thomas: What do you mean by that?
Alan Partridge: I’ve seen the big-eared boys on farms.
Peter Baxendale Thomas: Oh, for goodness’ sake.
Alan Partridge: If you see a lovely field with a family having a picnic, and there’s a nice pond in it, you fill in the pond with concrete, you plough the family into the field, you blow up the tree, and use the leaves to make a dress for your wife who’s also your brother.[/QUOTE]
Alan Partridge! 
Ahaaa!
“Big Yellow Taxi there by Joni Mitchell, a song in which she complains that they ‘paved paradise to put up a parking lot’ - a measure which actually would have alleviated traffic congestion on the outskirts of paradise. Something which Joni singularly fails to point out, perhaps because it doesn’t quite fit in with her blinkered view of the world.”
Medical tests indicate that Del and Rodney have different blood groups. Del is confused as to whether this means that they are not actually brothers and is quite agitated, wondering whether to tell Rodney. Grandad, all of a sudden, brings up Maisie Turner.
Del: Maisie Turner! Who the hell’s Maisie Turner?
Grandad: She married Bernie. Remember Bernie? Used to pull the stall out down the market.
Del: Yes yes! What about 'em?
Grandad: Well she had two sons. One by Bernie, the second by some bloke she met on a charabanc trip to the lights! Bernie found out and divorced her.
Del: How’d he find out? Blood tests?
Grandad: No, the youngest boy was half-caste!
We can’t bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell 'em stories that don’t go anywhere - like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Give me five bees for a quarter,you’d say.
Now where were we? Oh yeah: the important thing was I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn’t have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones…
Rowley Birkin QC
What a creation by Paul Whitehouse. Really captures those old, highly educated, once big shots men who now do nothing but drink brandy in their drawing room, talking gibberish.
This is a typical entry
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkuBvL0rCSA
And this is so sad