i was thinking of buying myself a mini. | yeah! sure! go ahead! really? cool! | i love those skirts. i thought i’d have to convince him to let me buy a new car. |
says here that michael jackson checked into a hospital yesterday. does it say why? | they’re calling it a "flu-like illness." oh, i see. i don’t suppose this means they’ll be putting his trial on hold? | guess so. say, i’m not feeling so well myself. you’re not getting out of tantric sex night that easily. no, really, i think i’m going to vomit. |
i’ve been wondering.are we australian, or are we american? hmm... | well? sorry, i was thinking about mel gibson. |
why are you so chipper this morning? | admit it. last night, you made sounds you’ve never made before. ha. | that you’ve heard, anyway. |
you know i’ve,.. stopped wearing underwear. | yes, i realised that. | that’s why i’ve started wearing double. |
’twas the nght before christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, | except for the angry wife stalking her husband with a shiny new axe after discovering her moisturiser had been replaced with...something else. | he-e-e-e-re’s johnny! run away! |
ow...honey i’m home! he slurs drunkenly after staggering through the screen door...at 6am no less. sweety, i can explain. i was out drinking with the boys when i met this hot chick and well, one thing led to another and we ended up going at it hammer and tong all night. i’m really sorry. | right...and my uncle noel doesn’t have carnal knowledge of animals. what really happened? ok, ok. i was out drinking with the boys and after we got chucked out at closing time, they thought it would be a good idea to duct tape me to the nearest roundabout....again. | oh tyler, you could have at least put on clean underwear before you left yesterday. *sniff* *sniff* |
i need a better hiding place for my invisibility potion don’t i? maybe. |
what’s that smell? you wanted me to burn you some madonna cds. | the cd writer makes that smell? cd writer? | my madonna cds!!!! whoopsie. silly tyler. |
so, what elephants have the biggest ears? the indian elephant,.. or you? | have you ever seen ’reservoir dogs’ tyler? you’re going to cut my ear off? could be tyler. could be. | imagine an elephant version of reservoir dogs. wow! you’d need, like, a chain saw. yeah, one that could be operated without thumbs. |
handy tip #407 | when using hand tools of any variety (esp. hammers), put said tools down before any attempt at swatting. | uh..tyler, are you ok? |
guess what all the cool kids are drinking these days? i don’t care. jagermeister. that stuff is soo cool, you can’t be cool unless you’re drinking... jagermeister. | with all the advertisments, competitions and pub sluts, it is no wonder that jagermeister is the essence of cool. prithee mr cool, may i assume you have purchased a quantity of this wondrous beverage? i’m drinking it right now, mmmm mmm, yeah baby! | frankly, i fail to see how my vast repository of cool could possibly grow by me drinking the fetid concentrate of warthog diarrhoea. i’m afraid your coolness quotient has dropped below any quatifiable means. |
i thought i asked you to stop using my invisibility potion? it doesn’t grow on trees you know. well ok, it does grow on trees but it’s really hard to find, seeing as you can’t see it, see? | well? | i’m in the other room, moron. |
cool gadgets, fast cars, hot women? james bond really is the complete male fantasy. | of course the best bit is that whenever he has a one night stand someone creeps in, under the cover of darkness and murders the girl before things get awkward. that’s very cynical tyler. | hey! say what you want, i’ve never seen a scene where james bond leans over then whispers in her ear,.. soo, ah,.. this has been great,... um,.. should i call you a cab? |
you’re not psychic, are you? no, i’m not. | good. don’t even think about it. | you said you weren’t psychic! i’m not psychic. you’re just predictable. |
i understand that ’normal’ is a relative term but your family gatherings are just... so... completely... fucked! that’s a fair comment. i must say that when i was a young lad, i would dream that my midget, trapeeze artist, biological parents would whisk me away one day to a life of high flying adventure in the circus. i wish. | your cousin will has changed though. i remembered him as being... hippie scum? i was going to say, a bit alternative but yes, hippie scum would be more accurate. | yeah, his new girlfriend is heavily into anime. my aunt calls it his, "chubby, junkfood eating, robot phase." i always liked her. i guess that explains the hair. oh no, they’re just freaks. |
your stupid dog snatched the meat off the bench today. oh stuart, you rascally canine. | at any rate, we’re having stu for dinner. that’s fine. i quite like stew. | wait,.. what? |
that teacher friend of yours is an absolute riot. wow, can that man tell a joke! there was this one, a right corker.. yes, dylan has managed to be the life of any party for as long as i’ve known him but tyler dear, how many times do we have to go through this? you. can’t. tell. jokes. | nah, this one is sheer brilliance. i can’t go wrong. what’s better than doing the horizontal folk dance with a 16 year old schoolgirl? ...nothing! ha, fantastic. you know it’s funny, because it’s... | the pain! hi, therese? your daughter is in dylan’s class this year right? yeah, about that... |
oh shit! my alarm didn’t go off. oh god, i’m late! sorry. must have bumped it last night. | ahh! you bastard, i had a morning meeting with-- with brad pitt. yes, you told me many, many times last night. |
... so i said, "get off my lawn, you old hag, or i’m calling the cops!" hahahahaha! | you thought that was funny? well, of course. it was a joke...right? | uh. on a completely unrelated note, there was a call from your mother. she needs bail money. i’d kill you now, but she’s going to want that pleasure when she gets out. |
beware the lord of the fluorescent monkey penis! are you drunk???? | i’m having a weekend get together, can i borrow all your buffy and angel dvds? lillee is here, 7lb 2oz. | can you bring a nutcracker? i .will freeze your chickens :-( |
zoe or kaylee? | kaylee or river? | buffy or willow? it’s just not fair! |
i sometimes think back to what the priest said, the day we were married. priest? you mean that guy dressed as elvis? oh he was a priest, i’m just not sure from which church. | at any rate, most of it’s foggy but i remember these words like they were spoken yesterday. "death do us part" | roll on, reaper. amen to that. |
who was your most memorable ex-girlfriend? well,.. there was this italian girl with bad vision and disposable contacts. what was so memorable about her? | she wore glasses all the time. scary, scary girl,.. what about you? there was this one guy who was scottish. | were you with him long? nah, it was just a highland fling. |
we need tivo. why? | it makes suggestions for shows based on what you like. tivo figures out what kind of person you are. we already know what kind of "person" you are. | i was hoping it could tell us what manner of demonspawn you are, o’ watcher of reality shows. one with good taste, o’ watcher of pro wrestling. |
care to explain why the tivo is full of pay-per-view porn set in world war two? i could take a guess... | last week, you recorded saving private ryan. and you recorded showgirls. twice. |
what happened to the tivo, darling? i reset it, and recorded hours and hours of will & grace, and it still suggests home improvement and mechanic shows. so i tossed it. | um, why? i read that tivo can prove you’re gay. | no such luck for you, butch. curse my heterosexuality. indeed. |
you filthy, rag whore, dog fucking slut! eat shit you dirty, ring raiding, nugget punching, mouldy arsed, elephant groping, necrophiliac! | sheep herding, felafel rapist! holy shit! are you as turned on as i am? last one upstairs felches first. | hey no fair! |
so...you wanted to be gay? maybe. | but, you like girls. relative to what? |
american idol. there can be only one. who will it be? | the one with the sharpest sword, perhaps? | charlie’s angels. there can be only three. no, tyler. oh c’mon! they’re gagging for it. |