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We take miracles for granted on a daily basis.
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Until this week the one thing I knew about the Twilight saga was that it had vampires in it, which was enough to put me off. I didn't realise it was a romantic fantasy aimed at teenage girls. Turns out it's possible to be put off something twice before you've actually seen it.
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Newspapers chiefly exist to spooned the opinions of their readers back to them, much like an arse to mouth hosepipe.
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Nothing happens in cricket, ever. Even the highlights resemble a freeze frame.
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I can't imagine voluntarily standing beside an F1 track in the rain, watching motorised wedges plastered in corporate decals zooming past at 500mph.
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Balls to aspiration, it's a tosser's mirage.
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Getting a moral lecture from the fashion industry is like Jeffrey Dahmer criticising your diet.
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The entire economy relies on the suspension of disbelief. So does a fairy story or an animated cartoon. This means that no matter how soberly the financial experts dress, no matter how dry their language, the economy they worship can only ever be as plausible as an episode of 'SpongeBob SquarePants.'
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It's hard to think of a single human function that technology hasn't somehow altered, apart perhaps from burping. That's pretty much all we have left.
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New Year's resolutions work like this: you think of something you enjoy doing and then resolve to stop doing it.
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I'm scared about everything. I'm an anxious worrier. I worry about the downside of everything.
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I remember I was changing to one phone from another and going through my old contact details, and so I was having to delete duplicate numbers to make room, and up came the name of someone who died, and... it felt hard to delete the name.
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My career path is like crazy paving - it goes all over the place.
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I'm quite techy and gadgety.
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President Barack Obama. President Barack Obama. Nope, still can't get used to it. It's literally too good to be true. I must've died in my sleep and am now having an insane fantasy pumped into my head by the Matrix. Any minute now Salma Hayek is going to float through the door with a tray of biscuits and I'll know the game's up.
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Each episode follows an unbelievably spoiled rich and tiny sod as they prepare to throw a despicably opulent coming of age party for themselves and their squealing shitcake friends.
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...I haven't seen so many dirty snouts, and slimy arseholes crammed into such a small space since I last looked inside a sausage.
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We don't sit down and look at the news pages and think, 'How could we do an episode about that?'
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I'm looking forward to the 'Twilight Zone' from Jordan Peele... if anyone's gonna reboot the 'Twilight Zone,' then there's the man to do it.
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I've got a phobia about throwing up.
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Our metropolises are blighted by two problems: a lack of public transport and a lack of public loos.
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I usually quite like women, but this advert makes me want to kill about 900 of them with my bare hands. It ends with the tiresome ladettes marching down a high street triumphantly singing the Here Come the Girls song out loud, like an invading squadron tormenting the natives with its war cry. Next year they'll probably be armed. Fear this.
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Banking, as far as I can tell, seems to be almost as precise a science as using a slot machine. You either blindly hope for the best, delude yourself into thinking you've worked out a system, or open it up when no one's looking and rig the settings so it'll pay out illegally.
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I wanna do some more goofy comedy stuff; I really enjoyed doing 'A Touch of Cloth.'