Yorick, you poor bastard. We were mates, Horatio: he was a piss funny bloke; cracked me up, no end.
He gave me piggy backs, well, to say a thousand times would be pissing up a rope, but near enough.
I'm off with the pixies, now; arse over tit, & I may chunder at the thought of it. (Some blokes reckon I kissed him, but that's bullshit. I did give the bloke a hug once, but I'm not a shirt lifter.)
Anyway...who's laughing now, Yorick?
Where's the smart arse comments, and the piss taking now? Your jingles, that smile on yr dial, which had us all cacking our dacks?
Where is every bastard now, to laugh at you?
Come a gutser, didn't you?
Anyway...wait 'til the missus gets a load of this; she'll piss herself too.
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