To me you are a work of art, and I would give you my heart - that's if I had one.

Denmark is sadly a hellish place if you happen to be a pig, but the brioche and fruits that tower on the table before me have me hastily attaching a feedbag.

Madonna is closer to organised prostitution than anything else.

I was driving my car, I crashed and broke my spine. So yes there are things worse in life than never being someone's sweetie.

I called to wish you an unhappy birthday because you're evil and you lie and if you should die I may feel slightly sad, but I won't cry.

It's so shameful of me: I like you.

Bring me the head of Elton John . . . which is one instance in which meat would not be murder, if it were served on a plate.