It looks like the kind of thing my daughter would bring back from school art lessons.

You can't have been here long, you haven't got a pot belly.

We go into the red next year... I shall have to give up polo.

You could do with losing a little bit of weight.

In the end we must, I think, somehow conclude that they have as much right to this planet as we have.

I don't care what kind it is, just get me a beer.

Were you here in the bad old days? ... That's why you can't read and write then!