Years ago I used to tell folk that Brian Cant was the third richest man in Britain. After their "wow, really's" they would then come up with the justificatians for it.
The internet has spoilt this kind of fun.

My mother has arrived. We picked her up from Kings Cross in the car which we parked outside Central Station (the pub not the thing where the trains stop). On the way back to the car she tripped and fell. I was walking in front of her so carried on walking and muttering to her, oblivious to the fact that she was sprawled on the dusty pavement nursing a cut hand. Doctor Darren was behind my mum so used his big arms to hoist her up and get her moving again. She now has an elastoplast on her hand. Clumsy cow.
Gotta entertain her today but not got a clue what to do. Bluewater? V&A art deco exhibition? Lunch in the country? Ask her to catalogue our VHS porno collection? (work safe)