They hit the pub, and Tracy's demeanour, Reminds you of a loopy hyena, They have sixteen gins and a rum and Ribena And this is before they've sat down.

This is my 85th cup of tea since I left Crewe. My stomach feels like the inside of an infant teacher's handbag.

"That's ridiculous. They've charged us for seven Laughing Cavaliers." "It must be a misprint. I'm sure we only ordered four."

My husband took terrible liberties of an intimate nature. In fact I still can't look at Dream Topping.

She does an act with a python. I don't know what she does with it but it never smiles.

"Who do you worship in your family Anita?" "Well we all really like Celine Dion."

I would class myself as British, and I'm no good at having fun. I get overexcited if there's a pattern on my kitchen roll.

"I want something that'll slim me down, come in handy and get Stan going." "A mini skip?"

"You do wear gloves when you're wrapping meat?" "I did. Woolly ones. I get a lot of colds so I like to have something to wipe my nose on."

By 'eck. I never thought of myself as romantic, Freda, but you've got a cracking bust.

"But you gave me oysters!" "Instant mashed potato and a heck of a lot of nail varnish."

Look at all this moaning over the greenhouse effect. The terrible weather we have in this country, you'd think people would be pleased. I'm buying a barbecue.

I've had my share of gynaecological gyp. I still can't polka without wincing, but we're spunky in Cheadle, we totter on.

"What is the time?" "The time now?" "No, the time Jesus first made a fitted wardrobe."

He was the sort that gets his tongue right in there and has a good root round. I said, what's up, have you dropped something behind my tonsils?

I'm back! New venue. New caravan. New kidney.

Victoria Wood. 19th May 1953 - 20th April 2016.