"Your face!"
"Your mum's face!"
"Converse One Stars?"
"You have a problem with my shoes?"
"They're not Chuck Taylors!"
"Forgive me for being less emo than you."
"Don't even talk to me! You fail! YOU FAIL AT SHOES!"
"What would you do if you were invisible?"
"Girls' locker rooms! Duh."
"Unimaginative, aren't you?"
"Oh, yeah? And what would you do?"
"Go swimming."
"Why?"
"It'd sketch people right out! I'd just float on the top so there'd be a humanoid dent in the water."
"What a waste of a fucking superpower."
"You fail."
"Your mum fails."
"That your mum joke fails!"
"It's 2am, I thought it was pretty good, considering."
"Your mum's pretty good, considering."
"Son, tidy your room."
"Dad, tidy your wife."
"You like poo porn!"
"Your mum is in poo porn!"
"How about a nice game of hide and go FUCK YOURSELF."
"How about shut up."
"How about your mum!"
"Oh, you are gonna be the first up against the wall when the revolution comes!"
"Papa Lazarou has done for people called Dave what Psycho did for showers, and what American Pie did for flautists."
'Your mum' and 'poo porn' type quotes, courtesy of Fisher and Elliott.
I love finding all this old stuff. And a load of stuff I wrote whilst at my last (really, really boring) office job, including this:
If the word 'mediocre' was a sound, it would sound like this office. Lazy fingers on dusty keyboards. Pointless documents spewing out of an ancient printer. Mindless chatter and halfhearted gossip. If it was a smell, it would be print toner and bad coffee and the lingering ghosts of everyone's fag breaks.
And if it was a physical sensation, it would be the dull, stagnant feeling between my ears, which settles in the second the computer kicks into life.
Whoa. I'm like, totally deep, man.
No comments:
Post a Comment