Pointing at the front page article on Richard Hammond, she said, ‘It’s amazing, not a single broken bone in his body, just a black eye.’ Obviously, she was only referring to visible injuries as the poor guy has significant brain damage.
‘Well, he’s only five two, you know,’ said her colleague as if that explained it. He looked a couple of inches shorter than six foot.
Another woman, herself probably about five two, motioned at herself and piped up, ‘And your point is?’
He smiled at her, looking slightly sheepish, ‘Um, yes, I see what you mean.’
The Sun reader, also smiling, said, "When I had my accident and I was giving the policeman my details for the report, I told him I was five, three and a half but I saw him write five foot three. I said, ‘Excuse me, but that should be five three AND a half!’ ‘Oh, SORRY,’ he said and changed it for me."
‘I thought it was only us men who worried about halves,’ said her friend.
‘Oh no,‘ she said, ‘that half inch is VERY important. So you mean to say you’re five and a half?’
‘Fuck you,‘ he said as everyone laughed.
He did walk into that one, didn’t he?