Mixed box

As you heard, I have taken the pledge against Doctor Who. If you too wish to join Overanxious Anonymous, please drop a comment! In the meantime, I hand you over to Prof. Lazarus and his dedicated psychiatrist: Shrink: So, Mr. Lazarus, do enjoy your life as a horribly deformed lobster-thing? Lazarus: Frankly, no. People scream, run away and even try to kill me, would you believe it? And there's more... Shrink: No? Lazarus: Oh yes. Despite the fact that I can destroy iron bulkheads and crush coconuts without batting a limb, I'm still ineligible for the Mr. Universe competition! Shrink: So life's not great? Lazarus: You're quick. Say, you look tasty. Slurp, slurp. Shrink: I'll refer you to a plastic surgeon, is that good? Lazarus: Great! He'll do for afters! But don't go yet! There's more! I learned from my sister that there is a poem to do with children leaving assembly. Great! Those with the insanity to read/listen to it are treated to the varied manners in which they leave. For instance, Mrs. Water's class trickled out. Bored yet? Do not fear! For here (to quote an American phrase) is my two cents: Mr. Procrastinator's class left it until tomorrow. Mrs. Indecision's class weren't too sure, or maybe they were... Miss. Atheist's class didn't believe it was time to go yet... ...and Ms. Skeptic's class weren't convinced either. Mr. Communist's class thought they all ought to have left at the same time. Mrs. Pessimist's class didn't see the point. And Miss. Apathetic's class just couldn't be bothered. Some quick news. I'm listening to Classic FM (not the Yugoslavian version that I had previously) and I'm going to see a recording of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue this evening. I need a lie down now!