Hey, hey!
No "screening for loonies" in our time was there, SASless?
You could have housed the Lagos fixed-wing operation in a telephone booth instead of a small block of flats, I bet, if they had rejected everyone who was a half-ball out of level.
Nothing wrong with ME of course: it was all those other guys!
We wouldn't have anything to write about now, in fact...
The other evening I was sat there with nothing to do at dinner but gnaw my way through one of those flat, French-style steaks: no whores, bores or booze so I peeled the labels off a couple of plastic bottles of orange soda and made up a Moebius strip. Then I bet the guys that cutting it in two would produce one strip instead of two. They were so impressed that they told me afterwards, "You have way too much time on your hands."
What did they mean by that, do you suppose?