Yes. Yes, when we live our life like 1950s detective films. I often go to my fridge, "Hullo, we're out of milk. I say mother, where's the milk?"
"God save our gracious Queen": Why would we invoke a non-specific deity to bail out these unelected spongers?
I got ham but I'm not a Hamster
American rock has a sort of self-pitying whine to it.
Do not crush the flowers of wisdom with the hobnail boots of cynicism.
The scotch egg is such a Scottish food. It's as though a great Scottish chef said: I need a tasty snack. Let's take an egg... and wrap it in meat!! Makes it a bit harder.