I am a longtime comedy fan and frustrated comedy writer (although I haven't really tried too hard so frustrated if probably a bit strong).
From a post in the Make An Unfounded Claim About The Poster Above You:
Quote: Will Cam @ 20th April 2015, 10:40 PM BST
HGT strode deliberately across the meadow. Reaching the brook he removed first his shoes, then his socks. Mother had warned him of the dangers but he was 5 now and the babbling water spoke to him in lapping tones that reminded him of Grandpa Tig. Happy days spent by the old bridge playing with the wood spittles while the old man told tall tales, all the time a twinkle in his eye. The murderer who chopped his own finger off to catch the titan trout, the ghost of the river bailiff who could be heard crying between the long groans of the weathered planks when walked... and the White Lady who only appeared on the third Sunday of each month. Always finishing with a "Don't tell your mother or they'll take me back to Harwick House."
HGT dipped his toe, then paused. Looking ahead to the opposite bank he suddenly thought....... By f**k that twat was full of shit.