tyler, was that your volvo making those horrendous noises.
it occasionally makes some dodgy sounds but i just turn the radio up, that seems to fix the problem.
i take it you’ve never heard the populist theory about the necessity vehicles have for a regular service.
service, shmervice. my car is a breatharian.
i wish you were a breatharian.
hey, err, is there a reason that you have a lock on your bedroom door?
yes. i don’t want you going through my panty drawer again. also, i really don’t like you. anyway, why do you ask?
i was trying to get some...umm...dvds...yeah, i was looking for dvds.
but i don’t have any porn...in there.
that’s not the point. i want to know where the key is.
it’s in a place where i know you would never look.
in a dictionary?
no, that’s where i keep the porn.
is she still out there?
yeah, i think she thinks we can’t see her hiding... in the zen garden... in clear daylight.
and she’s off again. ah, you only used one peg to hang out your underdurps and your shirts were hung right way up. bad tyler.
seriously, how many times have you told your mother to leave us alone? her falsies are still embedded in the windowsill upstairs from previous reconnaissance.
you could always talk to her yourself.
are you kidding?! she’s scary. remember our wedding night? she popped out of the shower cubicle in the hotel room to show me the proper procedure to put on a condom! *shudder*
please, you didn’t have to grow up with her.
only 18 sleeps until "harry potter and the half blood-prince" is released. joy!
you’re just jealous that i garner more pleasure from a book than i do from you.
hardly, i’d rather you didn’t garner pleasure from anything.
you know, the most peculiar thing happened to me today.
i was walking along the footpath, and i heard a lot of yelping. when i turned around, there was a wild pack of dogs chasing after me.
i don’t suppose you could offer any insight as to why that was?
well, it may be because i soaked your pants in beef last night... or perhaps the dogs just preferred something hairy, smelly and infested with fleas.
it has to stop, and it has to stop now.
i don’t know what you’re talking about.
that system that pipes ’scary clown music’ into the bathroom whenever someone is in there.
there’s nothing scary about clown music.
i haven’t been able to,.. go,.. for a week now.
clown’s are funny!
huff. huff. huff. huff-a huff-a huff-a huff-a, woooooooo!
what are you watching in there?
ok, everybody out!
some old gang bang movie i’d forgotten i’d had. wow, they don’t make porn stars like they used to. i didn’t think she’d be able to walk away from that train crash.
i was quite disappointed to find that the face on mars turned out to be simple tricks of the light.
yeah, kind of like how you actually have a face but a trick of the light turns it into a crater pocked, canal fed wasteland.
if you thought mars was the god of war,....
i’m already running!
i got some cool noise-cancelling headphone buds.
wasting your money on stupid gimmicks just to listen to music. that’s so lame.
oh, very funny! you know,.. you can be a complete ba,....
have you been sending me blackmail again?
what makes you ask such a preposterous thing?
i received some extremely bizarre pictures of black men having sex...again.
oh, that. no, it’s just your early birthday present.
*whisper* *whisper* *whisper*
tyler...are you praying?? you do know that god doesn’t exist, right?
you know, this is all your fault monique.
yowser to the red monkey paste!
do i want to know?
chilli chocolate frogs and shots of jack daniels. i can see through time.
at least until next wednesday.
and now a cartoon involving a polar bear in a snow storm.
what the fuck was that?
*sniff**sniff* that air freshener must finally be working. i can barely smell you.
nah, i just found a cork with a good enough seal.
you put a cork...? oh tyler, that’s just... why?
well, you know that joke rodney rude does? "jeeze mate, that would have lifted a lighter man clear off his seat!"
i thought i’d test the theory out, mythbusters style. oh-oh...here we go.
impressively aerobatic, if a little wiffy.
i’ve been reading the novel ’1984’. it’s so cool. a dangerously beaurocratic future.
war is peace.
ignorance is strength.
a sick and tired marriage is romance?
i think that the tv show ’big brother’ could gain some inspiration from that book.
imagine that there was no eviction. just one day your roommate was ’vanished’, and never refered to again.
’this is big brother. there never was a sixth roommate. any memory you have of one must be false’
mmm..this licorice is really chewy.
but hard and crunchy on the inside.
why isn’t my computer working? hey! who took my extension cord?!
oh god. at least this time it wasn’t plugged in.
the most rockenest, hippest and coolest band the world is ever likely to see! plus we have the highest content of donkey sauce ever to come out of brisvegas! wanna be my groupie?
as tempting as that offer is, i do have a prior commitment to chew out my own eyeballs.
tyler, you don’t have to actually be a rockstar in order to feel like one.
you just have to be putting it away with an underage model and snort an obscene amout of cocaine.
although, that’s just for you’re average joe. you however, are going to have to be able to eat lead and shit gold.
your friend you got my new hard drive from, he’s a bit of a comedian is he?
wes? he has his moments i suppose. why do you ask?
oh, i don’t know, perhaps it’s got something to do with the 40gb of hard core bestiality he pre-loaded onto the hard drive?!
girl on horse, girl on dog, dog on horse, ferrets in cows, man on postbox... it is all disgusting and i am not amused!
technically, i don’t think that last one counts. if you’d like, i could take it back and get you another, stain free, hard drive.
sicko. you’d sprain both your wrists before you got through that lot.
it’s an art form my dear. you just have to pace yourself.
screw you very much for that mental image. i’m off to snort some napisan.
frighteningly loud farty sound!
ahhh, better out than in.
for you maybe. damn woman!
sweet, sweet relief.
i think you killed the neighbour’s kid.
serves him right for being locked in our basement.
you know, everyone remembers that van gogh cut off his own ear, but it’s not like that was a big thing?
well, he was a painter. if he wanted to make a big impact he could have gouged out one of his eyes. wouldn’t that have been a romantic gesture?
i always thought that it was romantic when you sent me an ear in the post.
that is, until i realised it wasn’t yours.
...yeah, good one mate. listen, i’ve got to go. there’s a shapely young thing waiting for me in the sack, if you know what i mean, heh heh.
that’s right! she’s even got her name tattooed on her side, totally wild man. monique? nah, absolutely clueless. i’ll talk to you later, i’ve got to relieve someone of their ability to walk. oh, yeah!
oh, hey monique. no, you’ve got it all wrong. c’mon, put the bat down. look, it’s just...
dear lord noooo!
you killed my beer!
deftly, he sidesteps the poorly worded and yea, mispelt slur against his prowess in the boudoir.
zing! tyler masterfully ripostes with his rapier like wit. the ice maiden grovels before him in obeisance.
did you say something dear?
phew! i’ve finally managed to net off the paw-paw trees in the back yard. no more bat problems.
tyler? have you seen my fish-nets?
whoa! that was quick.
ok, we’ll try it again. what do you get if you multiply six by nine?
that’s just dumb.
it’s my cousin’s birthday next week but she’s got the "travel bug" and i don’t know where she’ll be to send her a present.
send it by owl.
i noticed you didn’t eat the lovely mushrooms i cooked into the dinner last night.
you know i don’t like them. eating mushrooms is like eating something that’s dead.
ah hermione, you sexy little know-it-all. if only you were real...
hey tyler, are you up to the bit where hermione dies yet?
nooo!! my life, it flashes before my eyes!
mmmm, reading each new ’harry potter’ book is like putting on a favoured old coat or perhaps a brand new pair of woollen socks. they feel so warm and snuggly, very easy to slip into.
although, the same could be said of a two dollar whore.
but we won’t.
what are you watching?
’monk,’ yet another dopey american detective show.
does he spell his name with a silent ’e’ and ’y’?
ooo, ooo, ooo!
ok, i’ll bite. what’s got you so steamed?
the patent office rejected another of my applications! it was the best one yet!
how could they reject a "vaginal sneakoscope"?!