It was a rainy, hungover Sunday afternoon, and for the sixth time that day, Richard switched on his grot boxes, to check the mix of his latest musical masterpiece, before retiring back to bed for some serious jazz appreciation.

That fucking smooth brain put his shirt on backwards again...

That smooth brain is dumber than a pile of shit.

It was a rainy, hungover Sunday afternoon, and for the sixth time that day, Richard got out of bed, went to his desk, and switched on his grot box for some one-handed viewing material, finally succumbing to the charms of a big-breasted brunette, before retiring back to bed for some more sleep.

It was a rainy, hungover Sunday afternoon, and for the sixth time that day, Richard got out of bed, reached on top of his wardrobe, and rummaged in his grot box for some one-handed reading material, finally settling on a dog-eared copy of Razzle from 1998 and his trusty standby, Naughty Neighbours Vol 12 Issue 3, before retiring back to bed for some serious jazz appreciation.