I blame the wossnames, parents. New money, you know. Wine business. Spoil him rotten, let him play with his wossname’s old stuff, ‘Oh, he’s such an intelligent lad, nose always in a book,’” the parrot mimicked. “They never give him any of the things a sensitive growing wossnames really needs, if you was to ask me.” “What, you mean love and guidance?” said Rincewind. “I was thinking of a bloody good wossname, thrashing,” said the parrot.
