Can't stop: I'm just popping outside to wash my face in the morning dew, then I'll be donning my hankies and bells and heading off to the local maypole to hit like-minded, fat, bearded blokes with a pig's bladder to the tune of Black Jack David, followed by an all-out assault on the local hostelry, where I shall use phrases such as finest ale and buxom wench, and try to get said buxom wench to serve me said finest ale in my cunningly oversized personal pewter tankard, with a hey-nonny-no!
All right, perhaps not.
Don't knock it. At least it detracts from the partly political mud slinging. And what's that Lib Dem 'wolf' thing all about! Charles Kennedy....a mouse in sheep's clothing.