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I'VE been lucky enough to meet stars of stage, screen and indeed, some of my biggest sporting heroes. But the one interview which touched me most was with the woman who provides the voice you hear in post office queues. I am talking, of course, about those famous words, 'cashier number five, please'. She was the most wonderful lady, answering all my questions with grace and a good deal of wit. Unlike that monosyllabic fuckstick, Meg Ryan.
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By Karen Fenessey I AM one of these people who genuinely believes that inter-racial marriage is okay. That’s why I was utterly horrified to be brutally ejected from a Jew-Protestant unification ceremony (or ‘wedding’) on the grounds that I was an ‘anti-Semite’. Any one who knows me understands that I have absolutely no problem with the Jews and have stated time and time again that I forgive them for all those bits in the Holy Bible where they killed Jesus.
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GOR' blimey guv'nor and gadzooks! Thrice I had partaken in the devil's dandruff that very morning, and now I was well and truly off me crust, ta very much. The willing young lady of the night what I'd procured the previous evening was still wriggling around on me boat race like an eel on a bleeding frying pan. "I've had enough of this lark - now begone scarlet woman and leave me a couple of Rizla on your way out," I tell her.
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