Dear boys, don't let Billy near the goldfish bowl.

(Read in the accent of a Russian emigrant to Britain)

I wasn't always mad, you know. Actually I was driven mad by the indifference of architects and council planners. You see, I live in a tower block and the terrible thing about those is there's absolutely no noise insulation at all, you know, and eight floors below you there's always some bastard who's got a yamaha home organ. You're just about to go to bed when you hear this "Doop doop chick chick doop doop chick chick... Bow, bow... da badabow!"

And like, the people who live upstairs from me, right, I can't understand what they're doing, you know - I'll listen, and all I can hear is this weird noise that goes "Voom Voom, Fwep, Fwep, Voom Voom, Fwep, Fwep". It sounds, right, it sounds, like two elephants riding on a motorbike while a seal bangs his flipper on the table! I went upstairs to complain, and the door was answered by an elephant in a crash helmet! Standing behind him is this seal going "What is it now, Ralph?"

And I don't know, after that I started getting very depressed, and I started to think I was a piece of sponge, you know?