Well, I once knew a sculptor who made faces and bust.

And also a hairdresser who curled up and died.

The chap wishing to join the army stepped off on the wrong foot when he went to the navy recruiting office, and shouldn't have been surprised that they waved him good-bye.

When someone suggested that I write a book, I was lost for words!

But the success story was the man, made redundant from a high-powered job, who went on foot all round the town, finally getting a job as a postman. He reckoned it was better than walking the streets.