This reminds me of the episode in Asterix the Gaul where they send a legionary halfway round the world to look for out-of season strawberries for the Magic Potion.

Happy Birthday!

(Equally mysteriously, why didn't they put it on for your 27th?)

If I were a dog, I'd be nervous at the thought of a feline police despatcher.

Take their names and report them to Lord Set.

I thought all tax lawyers overwintered in the Caymans or BVI?

Some crossover with the Kinktober discussion I saw on here earlier?

We avoid calling it anything it all and on the train to London you close your eyes and don't open them until you reach Rochester (not that that's much to look at now).

Where I live we'd call that "Gillingham"

I never said there wouldn't be cats...