Stag So Martin was either completely bladdered.
Mr Gray's partner Lynda Bubb told the first day of the inquest in Wisbech, Cambridgeshire: "The doctor seemed a bit dithery, he was muttering
"When she started muttering
sweet nothings in German, I got out pronto.
After being put on the spot by one TV fan, director general Mr Hall said: "I don't want to sound like a grumpy old man, but I also think muttering
is something we could have a look at.
Viewers of dramas including Birdsong, Parade's End, Silk, Garrow's Law and even Doctor Who have been angered by muttering
THE BBC could look at how to stop actors "muttering
" in its TV dramas, director-general r Tony Hall has said.
WHO is the crazy person who wanders through my local woodland muttering
My marriage, like every marriage, is ultimately an utterly ephemeral thing, a shared idea, a mental and emotional construct that both parties believe in to varying degrees at the same time, or else there you are at the bus stop muttering
about how you used to be married once upon a time.
Daniel Reich's press release notes that the evolution of the vinyl record enabled songs to be played backward for the first time, thus making supposedly hidden "back-masked" subliminal messages possible: John Lennon muttering
"Paul is bloody" (which bolstered a rumor that Paul McCartney had died) and Rob Halford urging "Do it, do it" (which, in a historic court case, was blamed by parents for their sons' suicides).
I dashed away, muttering
about Canada's revenge for acid rain and dismissing Lock's assault as an aberration.
Mr Portillo insisted he was ``not doing the muttering
'' about a possible leadership challenge but added: ``Obviously I was his opponent.
Meanwhile, I found myself muttering
: "It's only $6.97.
Roissy I (the terminal in the shape of a drum with escalators in transparent tubes slashing diagonally across its dreary central space) so lacks any notion of directionality because of its circular plan that disorientated travellers wander round muttering
to themselves in rage and bewilderment.
These days I walk around muttering
a typical New Yorker.
How we forget Biloxi, Mississippi, a decade before, where no witnesses spoke to cameras, how a brown man in army uniform was pulled from the bus by police when he sneered at the custom of the back seat, how the magistrate proclaimed a week in jail and went back to bed with a shot of whiskey, how the brownskinned soldier could not sleep as he listened for the prowling of his jailers, the muttering
and cardplaying of the hangmen they might become.