I come in peace...Take me to your lizard.

Reality is hopelessly inaccurate.

Ha, but my life is a box of wormgears.

It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression, 'As pretty as an airport.

I can see we're in for a fabulous evening's apocalypse.

Pardon me for breathing, which I never do any way so I don’t know why I bother to say it, oh God, I’m so depressed.

Mr L Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words he was a carbon-based life form descended from an ape. More specifically he was forty, fat and shabby and worked for the local council. Curiously enough, though he didn't know it, he was also a direct male-line descendant of Genghis Khan, though intervening generations and racial mixing had so juggled his genes that he had no discernible Mongoloid characteristics, and the only vestiges left in Mr L Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little fur hats.