The neat and tidy temporal ordering is, like the curate's egg, good in parts, but only in some parts. Neither of us vaunts much competence in the egg world, but it must have been rotten, the curate's egg.

Duane bumped his elbow. They were on the Christmas pudding. 'Fucking lovely jubbly this, innit?' Duane said.

Mr. Washington had seen the gentlemen of honour and fashion over their cups, and perhaps thought that all their sayings and doings were not precisely such as would tend to instruct or edify a young man on his entrance into life; but he wisely chose to tell no tales out of school.

Pee-gee-enn. It's an acronym, that's what it is. That's what they call words made up of initials.