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ALAN STUBBS - Extracted from Alan's routine

You can't do nothing nowadays without the law breathing down your neck. Take drink driving. Two pints and they say you're over the limit. Two pints? Are they taking the piss? I've been driving tanked up for over 20 years and it's never done me any harm.

In fact, I drive better when I've had a few. It relaxes me.

Let me give you an example. I was out curb crawling the other evening — totally sober, but a bit stressed in case the missus saw me — when this lovely lady of the night, Mindy, stepped out in front of the motor.

Bump! Over she goes.

I jumped out and said "Are you alright, darling!"

"I'm not sure, " she said. "I don't think I can see!"

"Well how many fingers am I holding up?" I said.

"Oh no!," she cries. " I can't feel anything, neither!"

It would never have happened if I was drunk. Because it relaxes me.

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And now they're saying I shouldn't use my mobile phone when I'm driving, neither. How stupid is that? I've got a portable TV in my car! If I can watch Match of the Day when I'm on the motorway I can certainly make a bloody phone call.

I drive better when I'm drunk. I'm even safer when I'm stoned. Now that's an excellent idea. The sooner they legalise cannabis the happier all of us will be. Especially motorists. Put a stop to road rage. Instead of all that shouting and screaming we'd be having a laugh and shagging each other.

What's the worse that can happen? You might drive around at five miles an hour eating a slice of pizza, but you're not going to kill anybody. Even hedgehogs have got time to get out of the way, which makes it kinder to the environment too. Wise up parliament, you're dragging your heals on this one.

It's the same with prostitution. Legalise it! It keeps girls like Mindy off the street and, more importantly, the bonnet of my motor. Everybody's happy.

Accept them Christians, that is. Always complaining about something, that lot. They're ruining my neighbourhood. I can't get into my local porn shop what for their protests. They're so unforgiving, especially them priests!

I was totally pissed the other night with these really bad guts, when I accidentally staggered into a church. In agony, I was. Anyway, I finally made it into the confessional.

After a few minutes the priest says "Can I help you, my son?"

I said "Yeah, have you got any bog paper?"

Miserable old sod called the law.

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So, I'm just getting back into my motor when these two coppers show up. The officer says "Are you planning on driving that car, sir?"

I said. "Well obviously, I'm in no fit state to walk."

So we start having this argument when the policewoman complains that she's getting cold because she's left her warm wooly knickers back at the station. Her colleague, who's got a dog with him, says "Not to worry, this is a sniffer dog. Let him have a whiff between your legs and we'll send him back to the station to get your pants."

Half an hour later the dog shows up with the desk sergeant's nose between his teeth.

Anyway, remember Mindy — the bird I ran over? Well I picked her up and carried into this little Bed & Breakfast she was working out of. I paid her a tenner, got me trousers down, when all of a sudden she has a seizure and passes out. Naturally I'm very upset, so I go downstairs and have a word with her pimp. He tells me not to worry, that he'll call an ambulance. I said "Don't be ridiculous, I can't shag an ambulance."

Feeling a bit desperate by now, I wander into this posh lap dancing club, and at the bar I spot this high-class pro. Beautiful, she was.

"I'll do you a hand job for a £50," she says.

"£50! You're winding me up!" I said.

"Listen, wise guy," she says. "I own this club. It was bought with the money I made from hand jobs. That's how good I am."

Fairs fair, I thought. So I paid her the £50 and sure enough it was the best hand job I ever had. Five minutes later I asked her what else was on offer.

"I'll do you a blow job for £100!" she said.

"£100!" I gasped.

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She smiled sweetly and said; "You see that Rolls Royce out there? That's one of a fleet of cars I bought with money I made from blow jobs. That's how good I am."

So I paid her the money and sure enough it was the best blow job I've ever had.

Five minutes later, still feeling horny, I said "I don't care how much it costs, darling, but I have to have some pussy."

She gives me this funny little look, takes my hand and leads me outside.

"You see that?" she says, pointing to this massive, beautiful five star hotel.

"Bloody hell!" I said. "Is that yours too?"

"It would be," she said "If I had a pussy."

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Now you might find this a little hard to believe, but I'm very much in love at the moment. An Oriental girl. Very exotic.

The thing I'm most excited about is that she's got five clitoris'. Her pants fits like a glove.

She's the only girl I know who has an orgasm every time she sneezes. "You should take something for that." I said. She said "I do, pepper."

We were having sex the other night when she slips this condom over me todger . . only it was inside out and back to front. I didn't know whether I was coming or going.

After we finished I asked her how it was for her. She said fine, she didn't feel a thing.

She's ever so lovely. Very accommodating. We were lying in bed this morning, when she rolls over, and with those beautiful eyes of hers smiles at me and says "Alan, darling, in this bedroom I am yours unconditionally. There is absolutely nothing I will not do for you. Absolutely nothing!"

She's helping me assemble a wardrobe next week.

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Mind you, she's started using the "M" word recently. Marriage. I've been down that road once before. Never again.

If the government won't legalise prostitution they should at least decriminalise marriage. I served ten years just because I was an accessory to a wedding. You know, it's funny, I can remember when I got married, I can remember where, but for the life of me I can't remember why.

My ex-wife was horrible. I asked her on our wedding night if it was love at first sight. She said no, it was love at second sight. The first time she met me she didn't know how much money I had.

Within weeks of getting hitched she'd let herself go. She started wearing these horrible thick tights. When she farted her ankles would swell up.

And she was that useless around the house. If it wasn't for takeaways I'd have starved to death. She was a right slob too——you know dirty——always leaving dishes in the sink, which made it very hard for me to take a piss.

I came home early once and found her stark naked in the kitchen, all out of breath.

I said "What's going on?"

She said "I'm having an asthma attack."

Naturally I was a bit worried. So just as I'm calling the doctor, my little boy bursts in and says he's found his Uncle Doug hiding in the cellar.

Sure enough, there he is stark bloody naked.

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"You bastard," I said. "Here's my wife having an asthma attack and all you can do is play hide-and-seek with the kids!"

Later that night I said to my wife "Are you seeing someone else?"

She said "If I was I wouldn't be seeing you."

I said "How come you never make a noise when you're having an orgasm?"

She said "I do, it's just you're never there."

I knew it was finally over between the two of us when her knees got infected because of doing it doggy style.

I said "Why don't you change the position."

She said she would, but the dog prefered it that way.

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