In honour of Jim Henson's birthday...the saddest picture in the world: http://t.co/dSbTnD0d

"Would you like a cheese and jam sandwich?" "What? That's DISGUSTING! Are you nuts?" "Then what do you want?" "Brie and cranberry please".

People are angry at the idea of the queen getting a yacht. People, however, are not angry at the concept of "The Queen". People are odd.

Hello. Myself and @belljarred have created a fanciful festive countdown just for you... http://t.co/lzIgzeTp #edmundandangelica

Today's fact: The human tongue is capable of tasting five flavours in total - wrath, socks, 1884, Beethoven and doom.

Mankind once had a ladder to the moon. When it collapsed we divided it amongst nations and turned it into the railroads.

I love autumn. It's not trying to seduce me (summer), it's not trying to challenge me (winter) and it's not yelling "sort it out" (spring).

Twitter, I went to view a room in a house and the landlord gave me THIS. Unbelievable:  http://twitpic.com/bul1e7 

I'm actually weirdly shocked to see that Facebook has a Twitter account. It's like finding a dragon in St George's bathtub, smoking a cigar.

Note to people who point out Twitter spelling errors - sex is also a viable life option and perhaps, on the whole, a more enjoyable pastime.

Whenever I lack motivation, I remind myself that by the age of 25, Steve Jobs had a fleet of starships and had invented the kangaroo.

If Twitter proves one thing, it's this: that the world is populated by hidden geniuses hanging on in quiet desperation.

One day, I'll find that hidden eighth day of the week that Kellogg's Variety Pack so tantalisingly hints at.

A mermaid's diet consists solely of the hearts that people draw on sand. The tide harvests their food for them each evening.

I don't like the word "blogger". It sounds like someone who sucks swamps through a straw.

To my international followers - it's "Guy Fawkes" night in the UK. On this night we burn corpses outside parliament as an offering to Thor.

Some children are rolling a big grey stone down the street. "What's that?" I asked. "It's the moon. It fell down last night" they replied.

My dad is watching Spiderman. My mum is texting friends in the kitchen. I am on Twitter. Somewhere, far away, a little Scrabble fairy dies.

When I die I want a sad walrus to sit on my gravestone for twenty years. Like Greyfriars Bobby. But a sad walrus.

Here's a thought: the life-force is leaking out of your body by the second. So whatever you want to do with your life - get on with it.