"What's that noise in there? Are you having a load of massive shits? I can hear a load of splashing"
"What, erm no, no, some fucking ghosts are throwing rocks at me"
"What?"
"Yeah I know, sounds weird doesn't it? Tell you what, these ghosts STINK too"
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nipping at your toes. Your fiancee's body rotting in the gara.. hang on a minute.
That was your 'best ever'? What was the worst? Oh yeah, you've seen that god awful BBC advert haven't you? Fair enough then.
Exclusive (for now)
Alongside this Fosters are be running another Twitter comp from 2pm Thursday until midnight Sunday. This week you can win a signed Jazz Club sign. The winner will be announced on the Monday morning. They’ll tweet a question from @fostersfunny about the Jazz Club episode and ask for people to tweet them their response using #JazzClub. So you could win!!! Nice, etc.
Walking round like "The Lactator*" whenever you go near your dolls? You know you should probably get rid of the dolls, and perhaps spend more time with real people, yes? If I got a painful, spitting erection every time I walked past a mannequin in my house I'd consider getting out a little more, perhaps meeting some real people, that sort of thing.
Of course that doesn't happen to me. My mannequin and I have long moved to a different kind of relationship; she barely speaks to me any more, and I've a feeling she's seeing someone else. Pretty sure my Henry Hoover has started winking at me though, so…
*Female milk-firing Terminator. I dunno, I was tired when I wrote this.
