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Harris ( pron: Gai Harrass ) is a globetrotting surfer, easily recognisable due to the fact he looks nothing like the Isle of Man.
Core samples reveal Harris is constructed mainly from a combination of crushed pumpkin seeds, seaweed and English Breakfast tea. This unusual and fairly unpleasant mix serves to explain his unholy but thankfully infrequent stomach churningly hideous flatulence.
Harris is Rolf Harris's brother.
He is also often seen sliding down the sides of mountains with gay abandon, a term not commonly used in this day and age, but nonetheless, absolutely applicable to the Harris-being's skiius-operandus.
Little is known about the reproductive habits of the Harris species. Privileged observers have recounted occasions where they have witnessed Harris perform a mating dance. Descriptions vary from "lurching wildly about the dance floor sporadically and randomly shouting slurred words like pfark! and pished..!" to "standing with hands in pockets, exhibiting barely perceptable metronomic hip motions with a curious smile on his face".
At this stage it is unclear how successful the mating dances are. We can only hope and pray they remain thus, lest the World be plagued by another generation of Harris miniatures.
Harris is a picture of coolness. In fact, he redefines coolness beyond the level established by The Fonz. Like the Fonz, very little fazes Harris. Although many of the people he comes into contact with on a daily basis deserve to be told to stuck their head up their fundamental orifice, he refuses to utter such wishes in their presence. This doesn't stop him cursing them later in the privacy of his office, of course. Stick your computer where the sun don't shine-amundo!
Several clones of Harris have been manufactured, the most famous of which is of course Robert Carlyle, seen here enjoying a mild Benson and Hedges cigarette from one of the six cartons he scored Duty Free on his return from the set of Farmers on E.
It is unclear as to whether more clones will be commissioned. It seems there are several thousand members of the general public still deeply upset at having seen Robert Carlyle's naked bottom in The Full Monty.
Any fool wanting to request a Harris clone should send a self-addressed, stamped envelope to Robert Carlyle with $20 enclosed to cover postage and manufacturing.
All Harris's Clones come with a 12-day money back guarantee, a free set of steak knives and are warranted against any perfections that may have accidentally crept into the finished product.
If you are in any way dissatisfied with your Harris clone or any aspect of it's performance, and we know you could well be, the clone may be safely dumped outside any Pizza Hut for recycling absolutely free of charge.