But if you've been dying to hear my voice, perhaps this'll help you imagine it: Anne tells me that Ford does a wicked impression of me.
He speaks a word. Waits a few minutes. Speaks a second word. Waits a few minutes. Speaks a third word. Says 'erm' a few times. Waits a few minutes. Speaks another word. Pauses. Squeals 'ooh, cookies!' He runs off.
If this post appears more than once, I apologise. Blogger was being [ahem] difficult. I have tried to delete the one remaining extra post, but am told it does not exist in spite of the fact that is plainly (you know) existent.