12 April, 2007

Putain.

"What, an unemployed prostitute?"
"You can't be an unemployed prostitute."
"Of course you can!"
"No, you can't. Prostitute is a job title. If you're a prostitute, you are employed. As a prostitute. You see?"
"Imagine writing that on your tax forms."
"Profession... prostitute. How much did you earn last year?"
"Well I dunno, frankly I was coked off me tits."
"Hahaha."

I love living with people. So much more fun than trying to have retarded conversations with yourself.

"I heard that when you get period pains, it's because like, your womb gets top heavy and kind of goes flop."
"What the fuck?"
"What? Isn't it called a womb? I didn't pay much attention in sex ed."
"Of course it's called a womb! Just the idea of it getting top heavy and going 'flop' was kind of amusing."
"Amusing how?"
"Amusing like 'haha.... that's actually really, really, genuinely gross' kind of amusing."
"Oh."

"Oh god, I just spent twenty pounds on shoes."
"I know. I just made you."
"Why?!"
"So you'd shut the hell up about how cute they are."

"Women. Can't live with 'em..."
"Tough shit, I signed that contract fair and square."
"Eat your chips."

It's nearly 11 o clock. If I were to go to bed right now, I would actually consider this an early night. How sad is that?

Ugh.

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