You Know You’ve Watched Too Much Python When…

You have your own ‘silly walk’ perfected.

The phrase ‘I fart in your general direction, your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elder-berries’ has passed your lips.

You know precisely how to conjugate the Latin phrase, ‘Romans Go Home!’

The word ‘spam’ in itself is funny.

You know exactly how many times per second a swallow beats its wings.

There are days when you wish a singing Eric Idle was hiding in your fridge too.

You repeatedly badger your local council to introduce regional championships for the Upper Class Twit Of The Year awards.

Larches are easy to identify.

You think ‘ER’ and ‘Casualty’ would have a far better success rate for patients if they only had more machines that just went ‘Ping!’

Australians who are genuinely called Bruce make you laugh.

You know witches are somehow equal to ducks.

Sometimes when you see a really big Zulu you half expect Terry Gilliam to unzip himself from inside the body. (Only sometimes mind.)

You call knights ‘kuh-nig-uts’.

Any mention of a vaguely unhappy childhood brings forth a reminiscence about paper bags, septic tanks, or your dad killin’ yer every day if you were lucky.

You’ve been fired from your job as aisle-side ice-cream vendor (in either a theatre or cinema) for wrongly proclaiming that, along with your Cornettos, you have an (albatross-flavoured) albatross and some bags of otters-noses for sale.

Sometimes you think about giving it all up to be a lumberjack.

You make a conscious effort not to say ‘NI!’ to old ladies.

It’s hard to look at John Cleese without visualising him as Little Red Riding Hood.

Last revised: 06/12/01