Alan Partridge's Audiobook Two Zero Two Soundboard Edit

A bad breathed copper shouts in my face and I turn my head away from what I think is the odor of Walker smoky bacon, which I usually quite enjoy.

A bear like homosexual, he was well connected and well to do in a way that puts some people massively on edge.

A beef tomato. By which time the novelty of being able to equate my child's size to the mass of a common fruit or vegetable. It really started to razz me off.

A broad Cheshire cheese smile lights up my face.

A chilling and far from delicious cocktail of neglect solitude.

A Chinese widower who owns a laundry next to Wallace Shoes on exchange St in Norwich.

A close shave with a local lollipop lady tells me I'm wrong.

A couple of coffees and seven hash Browns later, I'm in the toilets.

A cut out of a big letter S on his dartboard.

A deafening roar goes up around the station as people realise I've shelved my retirement plans.

A decade his junior and arranged similar girlfriends for six or seven of us.

A fact that may or may not have been documented and photographed by my assistant.

A few months earlier I'd have returned to a pretty empty nest.

A few practice leaps have banished the nerves that kept me awake for much of the night.

A fortnight later I was in TV centre with my lawyer.

A fun chat with Sue about her life, loves and crime watch career, followed by an open Q&A with myself and no topic will be off limits.

A glass of beer and a piece of toast on Christmas morn.

A God-given duty to help others. It was incumbent upon me, Alan Partridge, to summon up everything I'd learned while bouncing back.

A grubby man has rushed forward and is shoving the castle out of the way.

A journeyman DJ called Dave Clifton outside Oddbins.

A line that even at the time I thought was pretty good for someone who probably didn't get any A levels.

A local man don't recall his name. I think it was either Jim or Tom.

A lot of nonsense is spoken about germs being passed from one to another.

A love letter from one man to his troubled bisexual fuck buddy.

A memo from Gordale convinced me that this was a hugely radical step.

A metallic graphite grey with a black fabric interior.

A name that was such a brazen attempt to appear first in telephone directories, I couldn't help but be impressed.

A new city, a new job, a new desk system, even a new brother-in-law who could speak clearly and wasn't over affectionate. With my kids, I was Cocker hope.

A new show on a new channel and time I felt, to experiment with a new look.

A one stop shop providing everything a business might need.

A passing member of staff have been alerted by its unusually loud Ding.

A Phoenix Stainless Steel 4 burner. It's actually a lovely bit of kit.

A piece of infantile word play that most right minded abusers would dismiss as rubbish.

A pistol must experience the bittersweet bliss of fulfilled destiny at the moment of discharge before quite rightly, being destroyed.

A program which I quite rightly despised.

A protagonist delta, really shoddy hand by hard hearted parents.

A relatively straightforward task that took longer than it should have because my hands were by now very, very sweaty and it was hard to produce a clear print.

A result, I later realized of a clandestine word search puzzle done under my duvet after lights off.

A rich collection of amusing anecdotes about my experiences as a sports reporter.

A Royal Norfolk Fairfa getting ogre of a man.

A sexy trio of models I called Christmas crackers.

A single bead of sweat sprinted down my face, skirting around my temple and pausing at the jaw before throwing itself to its death.

A single bead of sweat trickles down my back like a rescue party sent to fetch help.

A small pink tongue emerges from a man's mouth.

A solemn promise, a vow that had been made to me more than three decades before.

A strip light flickers and buzzes as a rat scuttles across the floor.

A sudden shot of fear ripped through my pre pubic body and now I did do a Trump.

A team meeting was hastily called and we embarked on brainstorming.

A terrifying proposition if you imagine them all running at you across a field or chanting, Ging gang. Gooly again and again and again and again, but slightly louder each time.

A trait I demonstrated when grabbing the first interview with Javelin or Steve Backley after quite a lovely throw at Crystal Palace.

A trait subsequently adopted by US talk shows such as Letterman and Conan O'Brien.

A warmer of heart than their bitter London counterparts, with their negative equity and their stab wounds.

A week before the show, I'd ordered Glenn to get a haircut.

A young boy misunderstands and thinks I've aimed the insult towards his mother.

About their vision for the show and ITV's keen interest.

About to be incapacitated by one of Bernard Matthews henchman.

Academically suicidal, given that mock exams were just weeks away and a personal affront to Mr Bevan.

According to Jim, she used to beat him with a plastic hose pipe.

According to listener figures, it was only the third most popular slot on the station.

Actually had a false leg and was using a hollowed prosthetic limb to hide a specially adapted American bolt action savage 120 rifle.

Actually, I find that it's most pleasurable to give STD's to kids. The younger the better.

Admittedly in a chicken and chips scenario the spoon is less important, but I could sure have done with a knife and fork.

Admittedly, I left the studio a little shaken with a hurt hand, but my spirits were up.

Advertising the fact that they don't proves they're either vain or thick.

Advised new listeners that major laughs were guaranteed.

After a few minutes of being cuddled by great Aunt Susie, we'd managed to reduce my crying down to a manageable SOB.

After a few more glasses of beer, I put on a CD of Christmas songs.

After a stern word from Carol, the intervention continued in earnest and I'm delighted to say it was a success. Tim's barely touched a drop since then, apart from wine.

After all, anyone reading the manuscript would quickly see that snapping up the rights was a total no brainer.

After all, breasts are just sacks of fat at the end of the day.

After all, Caesar didn't rest on his he wore them on his head.

After all, for some time Jimmy Savile lived in a caravan. Absolutely insist it was a lifestyle choice.

After all, get through this and they were staring down the barrel of an investment in the high three figures.

After all, my fallen brothers would soon have an exciting new life as recycled paper.

After another one of Denton's gags had fallen horribly flat.

After several years of lobbying, I've managed to ban children entirely.

After several years, Glenn and I managed to patch up our differences.

After the 15 second blast of intro music, every breath you take, the police with Sting stopped.

After the death of newly installed BBC Commissioner Chris Feather and a mean spirited and unnecessary investigation by the BBC.

Afterwards I went to congratulate Adam Walters, but he was tied up in a meeting, sitting still while the BBC controller of editorial policy, John Wilson, paced and shouted incoherently.

Afterwards, Joe Modesty suggested that this was more to do with their age than his act.

Aided in no small part by the resignation of government Minister Sandra Peakes in our third show.

Aishe began by checking the systems of all three toilets.

Alan asking sports questions equals bloody good sports interview.

Alan describes art a Partridge in a pun tree.

Alan Gordon Partridge was box office.

Alan looks down to see that she's offering him a strange and unusual confectionery.

Alan Partridge had the gumption to look beyond the others of this particular swine and monetize his talent via other channels.

Alan Partridge is not, and never has been, an employee of the BBC.

Alan she seemed to be saying. It's all very well-being knowledged as Mr Sport.

Alan wasn't perfect. There were a couple of minor ****les, which I won't bore you with now.

Alan, he said again. I wasn't sure about the question. Slash, cool thing.

Alan, I love you, she kept shouting. Sonia, not my assistant.

Alan, I suggest you stop hanging around the place.

Alan, sorry, they kept saying, but looking at each other rather than at me.

Alan, they read you, said a voice in my cans.

Alan, you've done your time on hospital radio. It's time to spread your wings.

Album stops his Husky European rap singing slowly fading into the crisp morning air. And then?

All I ask is that they not be used for Halloween. Have a bit of respect.

All in all, Sonia had that indiscriminate, fun loving quality that you often find with people from post Soviet regimes.

All of them laugh and although I only later work out what the joke is.

All the gym work had left me with a body that would not have looked out of place in a magazine for men who liked to look at other men.

All the naysayers who try to downplay the very real horror of chocolate addiction.

Allowing myself to be sprayed in the face and body with a high pressure jet of public appreciation.

Almost as if he knew there were only minutes left on my car park ticket.

Alongside me was glamorous assistant Susie Dent, better known as the resident lexicographer from Countdown.

Also in the pilot episode, he wages a war against the travelling community who almost never have the correct documentation for their vehicles.

Also on the show, how long have you kept a fizzy drink? Fizzy 4?

Also, it's not a sustainable business model, and at least by charging a fee you cut out the true bottom feeders.

Although as a result of 10 hours of unbroken speaking, I'd also lost my voice.

Although blessed with catlike coordination, something made me lose my bearings.

Although he could have eliminated the obvious ambiguity by saying Alan Partridge or Master Partridge.

Although I always think of heaven as a kind of members club for do gooders.

Although I often regale dinner parties blow by blow with the arguments advanced by Capricorn one and JFK.

Although I reserve the right to be deeply suspicious of anyone who is unilaterally kind to me.

Although if pushed, I'd say if the activity remains in a private dwelling or hotel.

Although it was only 9:00 PM, the party had completely wound down.

Although misinterpreted by some of my peers as reluctance to cut the apron strings and live independently.

Although not official partied merchandise, these masks are nevertheless a lot of fun.

Although on occasions I've shared Mike space with a girl whose name I think was Zoe.

Although others routinely mistook me for Aman Holmes.

Although some of it will inevitably have spilled into the nearby Burtons.

Although still hoarse with anger, I must admit I was deeply embarrassed by that.

Although the gay man, Scott McLean, was only 10 at the time and probably unaware of his sexual trajectory.

Although the loss of such a talented bookworm was a major blow.

Ample time for one or more of them to be involved in a serious Rd traffic accident or develop a degenerative brain disease.

An activity that is sexy and hygienic.

An aficionado of US shock jocks and personality, deejays.

An appealing lineup, certainly. And yes, there were a few glitches, but most of them occurred in the final four minutes of the show, so I'm still satisfied that we've produced a piece of high quali...

An idea subsequently stolen wholesale by Jimmy Hill Sunday supplement.

And a blast of the winner takes it all came through the speakers before she could switch it off.

And a bonus thanks to a the webcam and B his striking resemblance to Clyde from every which way but loose.

And a funny sort of way the contents were just as explosive as a powdered acetone peroxide.

And a generous dollop of smash as a buttery finish that sets the plate off beautifully.

And a genuinely impressive two-story McDonald's.

And a man who looks very much like Tony Hayes, but isn't Tony Hayes because Tony Hayes is dead.

And a quiz show for Maltese television that was based on blockbusters.

And a submission of a full portfolio of my work for him to offer me the job.

And air dropped me into Radio North Norfolk.

And all thanks to a detour away from the inevitable jam back at G****s Hill.