6 thoughts on “Shit bother shit”

  1. It was hilarious up here. I kept contriving excuses to nip out of studio, and nobody else in the company gave a monkey’s. ‘150 for 5!’ I’d lament, and they’d all stare blankly. ‘370 for 7!’ I’d exult, and… nothing. Finally I bellowed a cheer, and finally people took notice. ‘Who’s playing?’ they asked. ‘We’ve won the Ashes!’ I shouted. ‘Umm… what?’ came their rejoinder.
    Best exchange of the day, upon hearing a newscaster or somesuch comment ‘Possibly the biggest day in English sport since 1966’:
    Jacqui: ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! When are they going to bloody shut up about 1966?’
    Me: ‘Umm… possibly from today, actually.’

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