Saturday, November 24, 2007

I never lose things. Bet I'd find those discs

"The notion that a 23-year-old bloke, having whipped up a zip file detailing every child in the nation, puts down his Ginsters scotch egg slice for a moment, calls the courier company, but can't be arsed to fill in the additional labels to send the parcel as registered mail, is as comic as it is tragic. Certainly the jolly Indian lady in my local post office thought so on Wednesday: 'Ha ha ha, dear, yes better post special delivery: else you'll have to send the police looking for it!'" —Janice Turner

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