I'm a postmodern commentator, and so, in a cheeky parallel to James Joyce or James Kelman, I get to places, verbally, that are a little unusual - when I talk about Jocky Wilson and end up sounding like a Jackson Pollock of the commentary box.
He's about as predictable as a Wasp on speed.
The atmosphere is so tense, if Elvis walked in, with a portion of chips... you could hear the vinegar sizzle on them.
I'm the world's worst after-dinner speaker. I need pictures to respond to. I was the voice of the lottery balls once and got the sack.
There hasn't been this much excitement since the Romans fed the Christians to the Lions.
He looks about as happy as a penguin in a microwave.
