Ask Fergus Williams

Then again, I guess we got the plague back, so why not.

You fool, there is no free hug, there are only sneak attacks.

You evidently never had to talk with her. I’m pretty sure I could find somebody with bigger tits who knows when to shut up.

The answer is no, no I’m not. When she was PM she wanted to cut DoSAC and, in general, hated our office with a passion, referring to it as a waste of time, money and energy. I’m pretty sure that having the two ministers for DoSAC standing next to her tomb would be seen as insensitive, though deliciously ironic, so we have been asked to abstain from taking part in the funeral.

I don’t remember any mac, only a confusing mix of tastes as I tried to pass out in a comfortable position. As for why I’m what I am, the answer might be ‘because that’s what I am’. What kind of question is ‘why are you like that’? Stephen Sondheim kidnapped me when I was four and I managed to escape only thanks to my heartwrenching rendition of Pirate Jenny. There. Also, ‘obsessed’ is kind of a strong word, considering I did not build my life and career around musicals but merely happen to have the DVD of my favourite musicals.

If my relatives liked whoever I like they wouldn't bitterly mock every single LibDem politician that appears on telly. And don't you worry, as the italian exchange student used to say "it's not really 4am pasta if the sauce can't power a car for thirty miles".

Cheese it’s good if it isn’t submerged in oil, as it is right now in whatever I’m trying to cook. If everything goes well, though, the tomatoes and apples will save it somehow. And why the hell would I ever introduce my family to Adam? Apart from the fact that they’d hate him so much it’d be amazing, of course.

Is this whole thing going to require we talk and stuff? Because yesterday my relatives had a celebratory barbeque that went on from noon to ten in the evening and that revolved mostly around haggis and whisky, then I went back to London and noticed that Adam's flat was closer to the station than my flat and decided to crash there only he was going out in that moment and I decided to follow him and there was alcohol and then we got in his flat but there was still alcohol and stuff and alcohol and now I'm home trying to find a way to cleanse myself from all that alcohol that doesn't involve throwing up. And that way is 2am pasta with whatever's in my fridge and pantry in this moment. And there seems to be spicy sauce and apples and tomatoes and cheese. And chocolate. And potatoes. And vegetables!

And that, in a nutshell, is why I’m saving up for a vasectomy.

Sorry, give me a second to get over the fact that I’m feeling ridiculously overjoyed for still getting a popular reference.

Not for long, I’ve heard Peter and his Tory friends discuss about taxing forms of affections. Significant stares will soon enough count as owning a second house.

I cannot fully describe the amount of scorn in my father’s eyes as he stared at her, but the dismissive way he told her “will you be quiet” as he went back to read his newspaper will always get a little smile out of me.

The legal age is sixteen. Get your facts straight. Also, eeew, the thought is making me sick. Christ, imagine the endless pillow talk...

Until she finds the haunted mirror Jeremy Kyle uses to come into our dimension every morning, at least.

Yes, you go tell that to my family...

It was either this or the Mrs Thatcher song. This one wins because my family and I sing it every Christmas.

Anyway- yes. Why?