text size: -A / +A email: ste@steparry.com Mammals Hello John Hi Pete, I’m just calling about the Champions League ticket allocation. I’d just like to urge all the fans to check their watermarks, cos you’ve got to have a real ticket when you get out there. I don't like any of this touting business. But what I’d like to talk about Pete, is this ticket allocation. Liverpool and AC Milan have been given 17,000 tickets each, but where have all the rest gone? UEFA, the football regulators, have been giving them to credit card companies, fast food restaurants, and I’ve also heard Pete, that they’ve been giving them to mammals Peter, black and white mammals. ... Pandas, sheep .. raccoons, skunks, things like that .. do you know what I mean Pete? Black and white mammals. ... Skunks ... Skunks smell. Slugs. They're not mammals; molluscs. ...Snails. Snails are getting them as well? Snails are getting tickets Pete. I didn’t realise it had gone that low. It has gone that low, so low. Underground Pete. ... Moles ... Badgers Badgers? Yeh badgers, a lot of badgers. So there’ll be very few fans then, just snails, badgers and mammals? MAMMALS. ... Crustaceans. Starfish. Starfish? They wont get tickets will they? Some of them. The big ones will. ... ... ... Pandas. ^ Top TODAYS TOPIC IS: 'DON'T YOU HATE IT WHEN...' James, don't you hate it when... Your finger goes through the toilet paper. Thanks for that James. ^ Top smells like a kebab Hello Mick Alright Pete, how are ya mate? I’m fine Mick Sound. I just wanna talk to ya about anti-social behaviour. Well what it is, I’ve been livin in Huyton for a long time now and the anti-social behaviour round here, it’s just over the top. Last week there were five or six kids hangin around my house, tryin to break into my car. I just think it’s out of order Pete. When we were kids, we used to come home from school, have a game of footy with our mates. We never did nothing like that Pete. And another thing, it must have been about half two in the morning, me seven year old son wakes me up, crying his eyes out, telling me there’s a fire in the hall. So I run down the stairs, and some horrible waste of space has put a firework through my letterbox, and the carpet’s on fire. So my youngest son Wes, he’s only five Pete, he pulls on my leg, and he goes, “Dad, that fire, smells like a kebab.” ... A kebab Pete. ... Pete? It smells like a kebab. … Donner kebab? Donner kebab Pete? ... KEY. BAAAAAB. ^ Top