Scenes from the class war: This is an actual word-for-word conversation I heard on the train tonight involving a bunch of chinless wonders on their way home from Wimbledon. Held at maximum volume so the whole carriage could hear them...
"My three year old's learning Italian you know."
"Oh yes, he's going to that little Italian nursery round the corner from Joanna Lumley's house."
"And we even saw her one morning. She said hello."
These people must die. And soon. There are more out there. Stop them.