Talking of snobby spastic, I'm going for lunch tomorrow with several friends and

[Burney]

I must try to be strong. I'll never get to retire to my northern mansion if I give the fúcking stuff away.

But imagine how you'll feel? At your wife's lunch, a bottle or so of something to the good, picking over the bill with your glasses perched on the end of your nose like some sort of bean-counting cùnt?

Really? You might as well then drive to Beachy Head and do the decent thing imo.