There is far too little twaddle available to the drinking classes. To remedy this sad situation I advocate mass rallies, facebook campaigns and the boycotting of common sense for an undisclosed period of time (or until everyone lightens up).

The human condition is permanently risible, so there is very little to be gained by treating life’s daily irritations as if they amounted to a hill of beans.

As Humphrey Bogart said in the Big Sleep – would somebody turn that light out? I’m trying to get some shut eye and that neon sign is beginning to annoy me. Three shots later and he was in the land of nod. Bourbon can do that to you.

Lauren Bacall fell instantly in bed with him and the rest is kisstory. Her performance in the African Queen was directly attributable to their on/off screen romance. As Spencer Tracy remarked at the time get me another one of those, I’m still smiling. Laughter in the movies is short lived and instantly forgettable, unlike the song that Cleo Laine made famous…oh what was it called?

In literature, twaddle is plentiful but of varied quality. Certain standards should apply, otherwise where would we be? A world full of indifferent twaddle doesn’t bear drinking about. Twaddlers must be passionate, vibrant, superfluous characters that know the difference between a leg break and a broken leg, can spot a twitcher from ten paces behind their net curtains and are well versed in the work of Beachcomer, Saki and Myles na Gopaleen.


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