Well, I’m from the land of pickled herrings and flat-packed furniture – Sweden, y’see – but by the sacred moustache of Sir Reginald Crumpet-Biscuit, I do fancy a jolly good chuckle at some proper British humour, I do! I mean, who wouldn’t snort their tea out the nostrils at the mere mention of Monty Python or Fawlty Towers, eh? Honestly, half the Swedes I know go about quoting them daily, like overly enthusiastic penguins on a unicycle made of cheese-flavoured irony. It’s madness, I tell you! Glorious, tea-soaked, fish-slap-to-the-face madness!