We've had no customer orders for ages at my calendar printing business.
Our days are numbered.
I have the world's most boring job: emptying out the dregs of pop cans and crushing them ready for recycling.
It's soda pressing.
All my friends have deserted me because of my weird hobby of fondling all the pasta in Tesco.
Right now, I'm feeling canneloni.
I'm starting my own zoo, but I've very little money to buy animals, so I can only afford to start with the bare minimum.
One bear.
What's brown, stinky and under the piano stool?
Beethoven's last movement.
My grandma spends hours each day arranging her vast collection of herbs and spices into alphabetical order.
I really don't know how she finds the thyme.
I tried to multi-task by eating my pork roll whilst tuning in my new radio.
It sounds OK, but there's still a trace of crackling.
My uncle spends his spare time hanging around the foyers of public toilets, shouting at people and ordering them to flush properly.
He's a gobby hobby lobby jobbie bobby.