I have some extremely distressing news.
I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything. My God, it's a nightmare out there I tell you, a nightmare.
We've just run out of wine. What are we going to do about it?
I don't know, I don't know. I don't feel good.
Look! My thumbs have gone weird. I'm in the middle of a fucking overdose. My heart's beating like a fucked clock. I feel dreadful, I feel fucking dreadful.
So do I. So does everyone. Look at my tongue. It's wearing a yellow sock. Sit down for Christ's sake, what's the matter with you? Eat some sugar.
Listen to this. "Curse of the Supermen: I took drugs to win medal says top athlete Jeff Wode."
Where's the coffee?
"In a world exclusive interview, thirty three year old shot putter Jeff Wode, who weighs three hundred and seventeen pounds, admitted taking massive doses of anabolic steroids, drugs banned in sport. 'He used to get in bad tempers and act daft' said his wife. 'He used to pick on me. But now he's stopped, he's much better in our sex life and in our general life'."
Jesus Christ, this huge, thatched head with its earlobes and cannonball is now considered sane. Jeff Wode is feeling better and is now prepared to step back into society and start tossing his orb about. Look at him. Look at Jeff Wode. His head must weigh fifty pounds on its own.
Imagine the size of his balls. Imagine getting into a fight with the fucker!
Please, I don't feel good.
That's what you'd say, but that wouldn't wash with Jeff. No, he'd like a bit of pleading. Add spice to it. In fact, he'd probably tell you what he was going to do before he did it. "I'm going to pull your head off". "Oh no, please, don't pull my head off". "I'm going to pull your head off because I don't like your head."
Have you got soup? Why didn't I get any soup?
Coffee.
Why don't you use a cup like any other human being?
Why don't you wash up occasionally like any other human being?
How dare you? How dare you! How dare you call me inhumane?
I didn't call you inhumane. You merely imagined it. Calm down.
Right you fucker. I'm going to do the washing up!
I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything. My God, it's a nightmare out there I tell you, a nightmare.
We've just run out of wine. What are we going to do about it?
I don't know, I don't know. I don't feel good.
Look! My thumbs have gone weird. I'm in the middle of a fucking overdose. My heart's beating like a fucked clock. I feel dreadful, I feel fucking dreadful.
So do I. So does everyone. Look at my tongue. It's wearing a yellow sock. Sit down for Christ's sake, what's the matter with you? Eat some sugar.
Listen to this. "Curse of the Supermen: I took drugs to win medal says top athlete Jeff Wode."
Where's the coffee?
"In a world exclusive interview, thirty three year old shot putter Jeff Wode, who weighs three hundred and seventeen pounds, admitted taking massive doses of anabolic steroids, drugs banned in sport. 'He used to get in bad tempers and act daft' said his wife. 'He used to pick on me. But now he's stopped, he's much better in our sex life and in our general life'."
Jesus Christ, this huge, thatched head with its earlobes and cannonball is now considered sane. Jeff Wode is feeling better and is now prepared to step back into society and start tossing his orb about. Look at him. Look at Jeff Wode. His head must weigh fifty pounds on its own.
Imagine the size of his balls. Imagine getting into a fight with the fucker!
Please, I don't feel good.
That's what you'd say, but that wouldn't wash with Jeff. No, he'd like a bit of pleading. Add spice to it. In fact, he'd probably tell you what he was going to do before he did it. "I'm going to pull your head off". "Oh no, please, don't pull my head off". "I'm going to pull your head off because I don't like your head."
Have you got soup? Why didn't I get any soup?
Coffee.
Why don't you use a cup like any other human being?
Why don't you wash up occasionally like any other human being?
How dare you? How dare you! How dare you call me inhumane?
I didn't call you inhumane. You merely imagined it. Calm down.
Right you fucker. I'm going to do the washing up!
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
i'll hold you to that cake offer.....it might be needed.
i thought last week was bad.......ticking bomb!!
[Edited on Feb 10, 2004 4:45AM]