Back in the day, I was writing a magazine article at my desk in London SW3. For three days I endured the sound of a jackhammer just outside my window. As far as I could tell it was a completely pointless exercise; the hole created by this ear-splitting, teeth chattering din didn’t seem to get any larger or, for that matter, serve any particular purpose. I lost it. I ran out and yelled at the sole workman to shut off his bleeping hammer. “What are you drilling?” I demanded. “The road,” he replied. And that’s how I survived 18 years in The Land of Hope and Glory. And here’s some of the funniest English accented material I’ve heard since John Cleese’s heyday.