A man dropped his programme in the Albert Hall urinal before tonight’s Prom. Just about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.
Woman sitting next to me at last night’s Prom: ‘Richard doesn’t think Barry’s good enough. But that’s Richard – a total sleazebag … I’m dreading Sunday’s party. I’m just an unsociable old bitch. I hate making small talk with people I’ll never see again or want to.’
When a news story about the death of a soldier ends with ‘Next of kin have been informed’, it is to set the minds of other families at rest. I always find that a rather sobering thought.
Me: Is that the steak and mushroom pie?
Cafeteria lady: No, just normal pie, love. Steak and mushroom.
Shop assistant, gesturing towards baby: Someone’s very quiet.
Mother: Yes, he’s quite … high.
Suave thing to say to a bastard at a cocktail party: ‘Punch? I think you deserve one.’
Dream that I was writing in a communal birthday card for someone from school and I did a lot of patterns and shading with various ballpoint pens and was so energetic that the pens caught fire and the card was spoiled.
Mother: Mark Watson was talking about his novel on the radio.
Me: The one about incest?
Mother: I thought it sounded your kind of thing.
Me: Well, I’ve often wondered about it.