Friday, September 29, 2006


WALTER EGO JNR: The best of luck!

BIRD: What now?!

WALTER EGO JNR: The best of luck!

BIRD: The best of luck with what?

WALTER EGO JNR: Bags everywhere. In the trees, in the bins, in the driveways and by-ways.

BIRD: Wot the fook are you on about, Walt?

WALTER EGO JNR: The best of luck!

BIRD: Jeez. Wot do ya do when yer Walter Ego goes AWOL? Answers on a postcard, pliz.

BUFFALO: Hill Air Rious, Birdy. Soiling meself here.

WALTER EGO SNR: Is there anything you DON'T find funny?

BUFFALO: Glass and sandpaper sandwiches on granary with mayo?

WALTER EGO JNR: The best of luck!

WALTER EGO SNR: Oi! Fook orf! There's only room for one Walter Ego this side of the Pissing Pond.

WALTER EGO JNR: The best of luck!

Is the Bore Fest
Fore the Best?
Only time and money will tell.

BUFFALO: Oh, Fifi, dear, if only you could rid us of the dreaded Walter Egos!

FIFI: No can do. Got my own Walter Ego to deal with. Try grabbin' 'em by the bollax and counting to hundred. Should keep 'em quiet for a while.

BIRD: It's agony, Buff. Agony.

BUFFALO: Film noir at eleven.

WALTER EGO SNR: Film noir at eleven.

BUFFALO: OK, dude. You've had your chance. Take THAT!

WALTER EGO SNR: Arghhhhhhh!

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Thursday, September 28, 2006


WALTER EGO JNR: You're wasting your time.

BIRD: Put a sock in it, will ya? I do what I like when I like and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

WALTER EGO JNR: Nobody'll remember you when you're gone.

BIRD: Seize the day, dude. That's what I'm doing. History can take care of itself.

WALTER EGO JNR: You'll get killed in a stoopid accident, I know you will.

BIRD: Well, as long as it's not on the toilet with my trowzers down, I couldn't give a flying Monty.

WALTER EGO JNR: Your mug'll be all over the papers and on the TV as the most ridiculous death ever. People in their millions will piss themselves laffing at you.

BIRD: Great. That's what I've been trying to achieve in life. If I can do it in death, that's the next best thing.

WALTER EGO JNR: You poor deluded fooker. You're a speck of dust, that's all. LESS than a speck of dust. That will disappear without trace.

BIRD: Listen, nutjob-jerkoff, I'm in a good mood today and NOTHING, I repeat NOTHING is going to change that, so go pick on someone your own size.

WALTER EGO JNR: That dream you had last night, the one about all the water and the headless corpse in the bin bag floating down the Thames... it means something, dude.

BIRD: Yeah, it means you've been fooking with my sub-conscious again. How can I believe a word you say when you come up with all this Freudian bullshit at night just to get my attention? It's sad.

WALTER EGO JNR: Dude, you've got issues. It's time to deal with them.

BIRD: Any issues I've got, me and Buff sort out, WITHOUT you. You are redundant and you know it.

WALTER EGO JNR: We're two sides of the coin, Birdy-Wirdy. The reflection in the mirror and the face in front of the mirror. Yin and Yang, Dark and Light, Chas and Dave, till death do us part.

BIRD: Yeah, and you can't bear it that I have all the fun and you're left feeding on the scraps.

WALTER EGO JNR: You need me. Admit it. Without me you're nothing.

BIRD: I need you, Walt, like an ulcer needs a sore, like a hole needs a head. Deal with it, dude. There's work to be done. Let's get to it.

WALTER EGO JNR: Poetic prickster. Words, words, words. It's not enough. It never is.

BIRD: It's all I got. Like me old gran used to say, if you can't fart through your arse you gotta let it out somewhere else.


BIRD: Film at eleven, dude.

WALTER EGO JNR: Fart through your arse...

BIRD: Arf, arf!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006


WALTER EGO SNR: Why do you NEVER listen to me?

BUFFALO: I ALWAYS listen to you. I can't STOP listening to you.

WALTER EGO SNR: But you don't pay attention.

BUFFALO: Frank Lee, I'd rather follow my instincts.

WALTER EGO SNR: Your instincts. What the hell do you take me for, a fool?

BUFFALO: No more than I am.

WALTER EGO SNR: Well, let me tell you, Buffo, I've been THIS close to letting you get on with it without me.

BUFFALO: Yeah, right(!) Always with the tantrums.

WALTER EGO SNR: It shouldn't be like this. We should work as a team.

BUFFALO: I'm not a team player. Never have been.

WALTER EGO SNR: Together we can achieve everything you've ever dreamed of.

BUFFALO: No, everything YOU'VE ever dreamed of.

WALTER EGO SNR: Dammit, I'm here to help!

BUFFALO: Ha-ha. That's a good one. All you ever do is say don't do this, don't do that, do this, do that. No wonder I'm a quivering nutjob.

WALTER EGO SNR: OK, fine. Forget it. I never said a word.





BUFFALO: Marvellous.

WALTER EGO SNR: Marvellous.

BUFFALO: Fook you!


BUFFALO: Jeez. Wot a parrot.

WALTER EGO SNR: Jeez. Wot a parrot.

BUFFALO: Film noir at eleven.

WALTER EGO SNR: Film noir at eleven.

SPARKY: You OK in there, Buffters?


Tuesday, September 26, 2006


BUFFALO: Hey, Birdy!

BIRD: Hey, Buff! Just been talking to Walter Ego.

BUFFALO: Don und Blitz N! You know Walter Ego?

BIRD: Sure. Do you?

BUFFALO: Walter and I are inextricably linked.

BIRD: That's funny, cos we're closer than a fox is to a glove, too.

BUFFALO: Confusiomundo, dude. I've never met YOUR Walter Ego. There must be two of 'em.

BIRD: Cripes. So how's we gonna Dee Sting Wish between the two?

BUFFALO: Simple, Birdman. MY Walter Ego will be heretofore be known as Walter Ego Snr and yours will be hitherafore be known as Walter Ego Jnr. K?

BIRD: Jeepers. Fook knows what'll happen if they ever meet each other.

BUFFALO: Could be interesting, WHEN it happens.

BIRD: Hey, now you're scaring me, Buffo. Dark forces an' all.

BUFFALO: (laughs evily) Hehehehehehe. My precious...


BIRD: Waaaaaaaaaa!

Monday, September 25, 2006


BIRD: That's right, dude. This is our 100th flog re-entry.

BUFFALO: Way-hay! Way to go, dude.

BIRD: Thanks, dude. They said we couldn't do it.

BUFFALO: They said we woz lightweights.

BIRD: They said the global village wasn't ready for us.

BUFFALO: They said we woz too poisonal.

BIRD: They said we were too obscurious.

BUFFALO: They said we woz too perpendicular.

BIRD & BUFFALO: Well, fook 'em all coz we made it and we're here to stay. High fives on me Freddy!

BIRD: Couldn't have done it without ya, pal.

BUFFALO: Aw, come now, Birdman, you're the star.

BIRD: We're BOTH stars. MEGA stars.

BUFFALO: You're really great, dude. You know that?

BIRD: You're really great too, dude.

BUFFALO: It's been a pleasure.

BIRD: Ditto-rotto to that.

BUFFALO: Two for tea.

BIRD: And tea for two.


BIRD & BUFFALO: Whatever.

BUFFALO: Film at eleven?

BIRD: Arf, arf!


Sunday, September 24, 2006




BIRD: There's no easy way down, dude.

BUFFALO: Get up, dude. So long a-wallow.

BIRD: I'm not wallowing, just enjoying the gentle breeze from the drains below and the shine from the sky at night.

BUFFALO: Snap out of it, Oscar, we have a situation.

BIRD: Oh, lummee.

BUFFALO: It's the Hammer.

BIRD: The Hammer - that bozo you've been trying to teach to read and write and develop social skills?

BUFFALO: That's the one. He's in deep shite, Birdman. Our conversation in the Dimshitz 24-Hour Cafe last night went something like this:

MOI: Why would the cops cuff you and impound your car if you were only having a bottle of beer, sitting in your car, reading "Willy Wonka", dude?

THE HAMMER: Well, it was a 40-ounce bottle of Old English 800.

MOI: Just the one, then?

THE HAMMER: There was a few empties in the back seat, but they was really old.

MOI: Right. Nothing else, then?

THE HAMMER: Well, okay, there was a Playboy under the front seat. . .

MOI: Jeez. . . what was the charge then?

THE HAMMER: Something about photography. . . under-exposure, over-exposure, something like that.

MOI: Ah, I think I see. Were you perhaps merely draining the old lizard, so to speak? After those 40 ounces of malt liquor?


MOI: Were you watering the petunias?

THE HAMMER: They ain't go no petunias at the beach.

MOI: The beach? Metro Beach?

THE HAMMER: Yeah, they busted me out on the end of the pier.

MOI: Watching the regatta, were you?

THE HAMMER: Huh? Naw, I was takin' a leak. All that beer, y'know. Had to piss like a racehorse.

MOI: In the lake, like?

THE HAMMER: Sure, where else?

MOI: Yes, I think I have the complete picture now. Were there any witnesses?

THE HAMMER: Only the Girl Scouts camped on the beach.

MOI: Gott und Himmel! Did they scream or faint in coils?

THE HAMMER: No, they just all got on their video cell phones... kept pointin' 'em at me and waving their arms a lot, and giggling.

MOI: Ah, their good deed for the day. I take it the Bolgani then arrived in record time?

THE HAMMER: No, but the friggin' cops showed up right away. They frog-marched me over to the Men's room.

MOI: Long march, was it?

THE HAMMER: Naw, the Men's room is right next to the pier.

MOI: Then why the fook didn't you avail yourself of the facilities in the first place?

THE HAMMER: Dunno, sometimes you just feel like pissin' in the lake.

MOI: Wot a jerk-berk. So, your car is still impounded and I, being your erstwhile tutor, have to drive you to the House Arrest Emporium so they can fit you with an electronic tether, is that is?

THE HAMMER: Yup. The judge said it's either 30 days on the tether or 30 days in the county jail. . . plus I got a year's probation.

MOI: All from reading "Willy Wonka"?

THE HAMMER: Yup. You know what? I think I was better off when I was illegitimate.

MOI: Illiterate, you terd.

THE HAMMER: Yeah, that too. So, what are we gonna read today?

MOI: Well, seeing as how the police confiscated your copy of "Willy Wonka" I was thinking "The Stranger" by Camus, on the assumption that if the President can read it, it should be a piece of cake for you.

THE HAMMER: Hey, I love cake! My favorite's German Chocolate. What's yours?

MOI: Yellow cake.

THE HAMMER: Is that good?

MOI: It's a blast. Uranium ore, you jerkoff-berkoff.

FIFI: So here you are, Buff! I've been looking all over the place for you. (whispers) Is that him, the big galoot you've been tutoring?

MOI: Jawohl, mein Leibchen.

FIFI: (low) I hate to say this, Buff, but he doesn't look terribly bright.

MOI: Well, he's no rocket scientist, but the scuttlebutt is that he's hung like Sea Biscuit.

FIFI: Really? Does he do Bachelorette parties?

MOI: All at once, or piecemeal?

FIFI: Well, both, actually. . . I'm organizing one for Potty Dotty.

MOI: Potty Dotty's engaged?

FIFI: I'll say. . . I had to pour a bucket of cold water on the pair of them to disengage them. . . oh, wait, you meant...

MOI: D'uh.

FIFI: Right. Yes, she and Sparky are engaged, apparently. I give it a week. Good excuse for a party, though. Does he have a card?

MOI: Huh? Oh, The Hammer, you mean? A card, you say... dunno... more like a cord, actually.

FIFI: Well, find out if he's booked for Saturday night.

MOI: Uh, actually, he's under house arrest for the next month, though I suppose you could hold the party at his room. He's staying at the Notelle Motel on Van Dyke.

FIFI: Ooh, mon dieu! That fleabag next to the Dyke Center?

MOI: Yes, you know it?

FIFI: No comment. . . he's not a dyke, is he?

MOI: Fifi, honestly. . . They call him The Hammer.

FIFI: Because of his prodigious tool?

MOI: Well, that and the fact that he pretty much nails everything in a skirt.

FIFI: Excuse me. Yoo, hoo! Hammer Banger! Have you got a minute?


BUFFALO: So, you see, Birdy. Eight millimeter film at eleven.

BIRD: Formal affair?

BUFFALO: Yo, Kemosabe, black masks and matching socks. . . sigh, I should've stayed in the post office.

BIRD: Write me the postal money order, momma!

BUFFALO: Overexposed film noir at midnight. Arf, arf!

Thursday, September 21, 2006


BIRD: Dis mawnin' I woke up in the gutter. Think I'll stay here a while.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006


DOTTY: I'm back, everyone!

SPARKY: That you, Potty Dotty?

DOTTY: The one and only. But I have to be brief. I'm only allowed to call for a minute and then it's back to the straitjacket and crash helmet.

SPARKY: Are your nipples OK?

DOTTY: My what?

SPARKY: They're not missin' nor nothin'?

DOTTY: You Yanks, you're all the same. Obsessed with ladies' mammalia.

SPARKY: Well, nipples, actually, man. I saw some yesterday and I kinda like 'em. Don't suppose you'd e-mail me yours, wouldya?

DOTTY: Dear boy, MEN have them too!

SPARKY: You sure?

DOTTY: Of course I'm sure. Look in the mirror!

SPARKY: Oh, wow! Kinda nice. But I think I prefer women's. Say, does it tickle when you stroke them?

DOTTY: Oh, really! You're just TOO uncouth, my lad. Give that strapping auld Buff my best regards.

SPARKY: Sure will.

DOTTY: How I've missed him. Oh, and by the way, I've become a lesbian. It's the only way to get Blair out. But I'll make an exception for Buffo. Cheerio.

SPARKY: Right-o. Ooh-hoooo, it's SO ticklish. Cherry. Definitely cherry.


Monday, September 18, 2006


SPARKY: Hey, man. Nipples. Wot are they?

BUFFALO: Well, dude, they're the little, sometimes big, round things at the end of the titty.

SPARKY: No shit! Really?


SPARKY: And wot do they look like?

BUFFALO: Well, um, sometimes like cherrys, sometimes like strawberries with a hint of elderflower.

SPARKY: Far out, man. Wonder why Cindy never had any.

BUFFALO: Cos Cindy was a friggin' doll, dude! Jeez. Sorry, Sparkers, old boy. I know you're still grievin' an' all. But I still don't understand why you woz playing with a blow-torch in your cave.

SPARKY: Not playing. Riddin' our hideout of the Charlie. One of 'em tried to abduct Cindy, man.

BUFFALO: So you hacidentally set her alight and melted her wax. Result.

SPARKY: Buffters, pliz, man, I'm hurtin' in here.

BUFFALO: Sorry, dude. So howzabout I come along to your next AA meeting?

SPARKY: Well, I'm not sure that they're ready for an auld perv like you, man. Say, you got any pictures of nipples? Kinda curious to see wot they look like.

BUFFALO: Thousands of 'em. All imported, course.

SPARKY: Lemmee see, man.

BUFFALO: Here ya go.

SPARKY: Aaaaaaaaaaa-t-choooo!

BUFFALO: Omigod! You've got a titty with nipple allergy, dude. Most hunfortunate.

SPARKY: Aaaaaaaa... aaaaaaaaaa...

BUFFALO: (closes laptop) Better leave it there, Sparkers. It might lead to convulsions.

SPARKY: Holy Ho Chi Minh shit! Does this mean I'll never enjoy a ripe nipple?

BUFFALO: Fraid so, dude. Better go get yerself another doll.

SPARKY: Life's a bitch, man.

BUFFALO: Ain't it just the way.

SPARKY: Want some more Toe Jam and cake?

BUFFALO: Sure. I'll put da kettle on.

SPARKY: Film at eleven?

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Sunday, September 17, 2006



BIRD: The great global public have spoken. They want Potty Dotty - love that nickname, Sparky, you're a genius - AND they want more titties and rogering.

BUFFALO: Dude, if you’ll recall, we got pranged rather badly for dat sorta ting not so long ago.

BIRD: May oui. My tail feathers are still stinging.

BUFFALO: Oh well, if that’s what they want… but there hasn’t been much action around here lately.

BIRD: What about Sparky, he getting any?

BUFFALO: Not since Cindy melted... er, left him.

BIRD: Weren’t you thinking about joining him at the AA, to meet some, um, colourful women?

BUFFALO: Aye, but the Sparker had a hissy fit. Morally outraged and all. Had to pack that one in.

BIRD: Speaking of packing it in, you don’t think he’s moonlighting at the fudge factory, do you?

BUFFALO: No way, dude, he’s totally diabetic.

BIRD: I think we’re speaking at cross-purposes.

BUFFALO: Which rewinds me. How’s the cross-dressing coming? Are you still masquerading as a trollop in order to sell a book?

BIRD: No comment.

BUFFALO: Ah, too bad, thought it was a great ploy. . . if you’ve got the legs for it.

BIRD: Which I have. Though I'm not that keen on the shaving bit. You always said you were a leg man.

BUFFALO: A great pair of pins makes up for a multitude of sins. Ask Cyd Charisse.

BIRD: True, but what about a bountiful balcony?

BUFFALO: Nice to look at, but I favor quality over quantity, and firmness over volume. Anything more than a handful and a mouthful is just wasted.

BIRD: Schoene. Legs and titties, we're off to a great start.

BUFFALO: And no butts.

BIRD: Quite. Now what about the rogering?

BUFFALO: Long dry spell around here, Birdman, though there are a few prospects. Been hanging out with a more interesting class of drunks lately, some of them sporting perfume and lace. There's a couple I wouldn't mind selling mater downriver for.

BIRD: Sounds promising. Keep us posted.

BUFFALO: Sure, Birdy. Lesser-known fact: it's official - the US is nipple-less.

BIRD: Yikes!

BUFFALO: I'm having mine paintbrushed off tomorra.

BIRD: Pity. It's your best feature. Everybody says so. Oh, hum. Back to the high heels and blusher, I guess. Film at eleven.

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Saturday, September 16, 2006


BIRD: I dunno. Some people. First, they want to axe the gal. Now they want her to stay.

BUFFALO: Fickle lot. What happens when the Benadryl runs out?

BIRD: Cerebral massage. New Age hippy shit et al. Might work.

BUFFALO: Dude, is Dotty coming back, yay oder nay?

BIRD: Dude, Dotty's so toxed up right now, she don't know where she is. Sides, she's got no lines.

BUFFALO: Well, then give her some. It ain't hard.

BIRD: Think we'll have to turn it over to the fans to decide.
All vote now.

BUFFALO: Hold it. What's that, Sparky?

SPARKY: Never mind Potty Dotty. What about me? Cindy's left me. Gone in the night.

BIRD & BUFFALO: Oh, lummee!

BIRD: Better call the cops.

BUFFALO: Better come quick.

BIRD: While the trail's still warm.

SPARKY: Cindy! Cindy! If you leave me now...

BUFFALO: You'll take away the biggest part of me...

BIRD: Don't! Just don't!

BUFFALO: Ten points, methinks.

BIRD: Film at eleven.

BUFFALO: Arf. arf!

Friday, September 15, 2006


BIRD: Had a stack of e-mails today from people saying they don't give a damn wot happens to Dotty. They THINK we're dragging the story out for dramatic effect.

BUFFALO: Don und Blitz Son! No compassion.

BIRD: They SAY they want more titties and rogering.

BUFFALO: Omigod! I blame it on reality TV. That and the Paris Hilton video. And wot of Dotty?

BIRD: Not sexy enuff. She's gotta go.

BUFFALO: Oh, hum.

BIRD: Titties at eleven, Buff. I mean...

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Thursday, September 14, 2006


BUFFALO: Wot news of Dotty, Birdman?

BIRD: She's hanging by a thread.

BUFFALO: Wait, don't tell me. It's on the tip o' mah tongue.

BIRD: Dude, not EVERYTHING is a lyric. Sometimes, just occasionally it's a part of dialogue wherein somebody is trying to impart some information.

BUFFALO: Didn't Dylan do sumfin' with the line "We're hanging by a thread"?

BIRD: Forget Dylan. We're talking about Dotty looping the loop. She's knocking on the door.

BUFFALO: Wee-hee. Heaven's door, right? Gimme another.

BIRD: Jeez. Wot did she ever see in you?

FIFI: Oh, imagine the confusion of the green ring snake.
From tickling tourists in knickers
to whirling in suds among not-so-clean duds
Which situation is worse, for goodness sake?
Illegal immigrants cannot be pickers.
At least that reptile, humble,
A Filipino exile,
was spared a tumble
in the dryer.

BUFFALO: Snakes ahoy, Cap'n!

BIRD: Why do I bother?

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

FIFI: And in other news: Steve Irwin's dead. RIP, Crocodile Man.

BUFFALO: Who's Steve Irwin? Did he play in Black Sabbath in the early days? Da da daaaaaaaa!

BIRD: (rolls eyes) Don't bother coming back, Dotty. It's not worth it.

FIFI: Film at eleven.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


BUFFALO: Dude, I got five dollars 60 cents in this here piggy bank o' mine. So I ain't goin' nowhere.

BIRD: Pity, cos I don't think our Dotty's gonna make it wid out you.

BUFFALO: Whaddya mean?

BIRD: She's having surgery right now. BRAIN salad surgery.

BUFFALO: Now wait a minute. That rings a bell.

BIRD: They're starting with the bit behind the ears then working their way across.

BUFFALO: We're talking prog rock, am I right?

BIRD: Dude, we're talking about someone's life here, held in the balance.

BUFFALO: Sure it was. That dude with the long hair who played honky tonk piano. And the guy who sang about Chrissy Mass.

BIRD: The next 24 hours are crucial. She could end up in a persistent vegetarian state.

BUFFALO: Now what was their name?

BIRD: Dude! You may never see or hear Dotty again! Focus!

BUFFALO: Nah, that weren't it. Focus was that Dutch band, or Belgian band, or sumfin'. Had a hit with Hocus Pocus, or whatever it was called.

BIRD: Well, thanks for your deep, heart-felt support. I'll pass on your best wishes.

BUFFALO: Preferred Thin Lizzy meself. Now them dudes knew how to rock. (sings) The boys are back in town... boys are back in town... Dah... Dah... The boys are back in tow-ow-a-ow-ow-nnnn...

BIRD: (rolls eyes) Poor Dotty! Shame on you, Buff! Wot's wrong with Bachman Turner Overdrive, eh? (sings) You ain't seen nothing yet... da da da da da da da da... You just ain't seen nothing yet...

FIFI: Film at eleven.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006


BUFFALO: How's Dotty?

BIRD: Sedated. On a Benadryl drip.

BUFFALO: Poor gal.

BIRD: It all comes back to her childhood, dude. When she was two, somebody stole her dolly. She's never been the same since. Mind you, she was pretty cut up at nine when her father was trampled half to death by an escaped Aardvark at London Zoo.

BUFFALO: Omigod. Is he still alive?

BIRD: Nah, the flies made mincemeat of him ten years ago. Not a pretty sight.

BUFFALO: Life's a bitch.

BIRD: You said it. Anyway, the Jehovah's Witnesses came to see her this morning.

BUFFALO: Oh, for fook's sake.

BIRD: Well, I say the Jehovah's Witnesses. It's her mum and her two aunts.

BUFFALO: Mercy. So there never really was any hope.

BIRD: Not until you came into her life.


BIRD: Get on a plane, a ship, a balloon, whatever, but get your arse over here.

BUFFALO: Dude, I am a donkey's ass hair away from Loonville.

BIRD: She keeps calling for ya. Says you're the only one who can break the spell. So Frank Lee, Buffo, you ain't got a choice.

BUFFALO: But I thought she liked Sparky...

BIRD: We're all relying on ya, dude. Don't let us down.

BUFFALO: Nobody ever really loved me like she do me...

BIRD: Exactomundo.

BUFFALO: But what about Monica?

BIRD: She'll wait.

BUFFALO: Jump aboard for the ghost-train ride of pride and wait for the tide.


BUFFALO: Just sumfin' me old pa used to say. Gave him strength to carry on.


Monday, September 11, 2006


BIRD: Buff, they're coming to take Dotty away!

BUFFALO: Omigod.

BIRD: Just what exactly did you say to her?

BUFFALO: Nuffin'. Honest. But she wouldn't stop laffin'.

BIRD: There must be something we can do to untickle her funny bone.

BUFFALO: Give her the old bow anchor up the derriere treatment.

BIRD: Crikey, Buff. Is that really necessary?

BUFFALO: Mind you, after that she may NEVER laff again.

BIRD: I was thinking more along the lines of putting on a Leonard Cohen CD, or Perry Como, praps.

BUFFALO: Perry Como? That's worse than frontal Jell-O torture. Maybe... maybe...

BIRD: Yes?

BUFFALO: Oh, wot the fook, just tell her about global warming. That'll wipe the smile off her ass... er, face.

BIRD: Righty-ho.

FIFI: Miss Dotty, take this washcloth and wash down as far as possible. Then start at your feet and wash up as far as possible. "But nurse, when do I wash possible?"

BUFFALO: Ah, Fifi. Every utterance a gem. You light up my life.

FIFI: And ignite your loins.

BUFFALO: Oh, the loins, the loins. Is there no end to debt?

(Dotty guffaws uncontrollably)

BIRD: Now look what you've done! Can you stop being so fooking funny, just for a minute?!

BUFFALO: Sor-ry, Birdman. Fifi, I'm on my way.

FIFI: First left, second right, then straight ahead.

(Dotty writhes around on floor, frothing at mouth)

BIRD: Oh, lummee!

BUFFALO: Oh, Mommy!

FIFI: Oh, scrummy!

BIRD: Film at eleven.

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Sunday, September 10, 2006


BIRD: Don't mention the cheese, Buff. I've had enough Cheddar to last me a lifetime.

BUFFALO: And you saw Cheddar Man, I surmise?

BIRD: The geezer who's 9,000 years old, banged up in Gough's Cave, thought to have been eaten by cannibals? Well, not exactly. He's in the Natural History Museum. But we saw the spot where he was discovered. Just before I fell arse over tit on some stalagtite shit or other.

BUFFALO: Booger! Are you OK?

BIRD: Cuts and bruises, dude. Nothing a jar or two of cider can't cure. Oh, ar!

BUFFALO: Hey, ain't that near Glastonbury and King Arfur?

BIRD: Yep. Avalon. Arfur and his missus are buried there, Al Edge Id Lee. Very spiritual roundabouts. Anyway, I divest. Dude, we've got a problem.

BUFFALO: Wassat?

BIRD: Well, it's Dotty, you see. She can't stop laffing. I thought if you had a word... Dotty! It's Buff.

BUFFALO: Oh, lummee.

DOTTY: Hi, Buff. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: Well, hello. How's it going?

DOTTY: You're so cute. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: You know, it's kinda dangerous laffing all the time. People have been known to die of it.

DOTTY: That's a funny way to go. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: Are you gonna laff at everything I say?

DOTTY: Probably. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: I kinda liked you more when you were miserable.

DOTTY: No, stop. It hurts. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: Jeez. You sound like a hyena on Viagra.

DOTTY: Oh, Buff, that's too funny. Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: Can you just shut the fook up? You're making me feel blue.

DOTTY: Shut the fook up! Shut the fook up! Hahahahahahaha...

BUFFALO: Sparky, you got another grenade? Think I might just swallow it.

DOTTY: Might swallow it. Bwilliant! Hahahahahahaha...


DOTTY: Hahahahahahaha...

BIRD: Buff?! Buff! Are you OK?!


Tuesday, September 05, 2006


BIRD: Gone to see some cheese. Back Thursday.

BUFFALO: You'll get over it, Birdy. I KNOW you will.


BIRD: Oh, Errol! Oh, ERROL!!

BUFFALO: Wot ya doin', dude?

BIRD: Wandering in the woods, looking for Errol.

BUFFALO: Errol who?

BIRD: Errol Flynn, course.

BUFFALO: That durty mutt's dead, dude.

BIRD: If I shout loud enough he might just hear me.

BUFFALO: D-lusional, Birdy.

BIRD: The best Robin Hood there ever was. And Fletcher Christian. Oh, Errol!

BUFFALO: Died at 50 with the body of an 80-year-old.

BIRD: "It's not what they say about you, it's what they whisper." Oh, Errol! Oh, Errol!!

BUFFALO: Give it up, Birdman, he ain't coming.

BIRD: He'll be here. Don't worry. Oh, Errol! Oh, Errol!! "Welcome to Sherwood, my lady. What, Sir Guy? No greeting from you?"

BUFFALO: Cuckoo. Cuckoo.

FIFI: There was a young man named Errol...

SPARKY: Cindy, you get that dress off right now and wash behind your ears, ya hear, man?

DOTTY: I'm thinking of becoming a lesbian to help save the environment.

THE SAGE: To lift a finger one must first raise the stakes.

PUCK: Pussy's deffo still alive. I can feel one of her hearts beating.

BUFFALO: Is it just me or can someone smell burning?

BIRD: Flynn at eleven.

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

Monday, September 04, 2006


BUFFALO: Thanks, Birdy, old chap.

BIRD: Nice and sunny here. Got the chiropodist coming soon.


BIRD: The big toe on my right foot got mashed a few years ago.

BUFFALO: Nasty. What happened?

BIRD: I dropped a fookin' sledgehammer on it when I was in the shed making a bird box.


BIRD: Waste of time that was. Stoopid squiggy nicks all the nuts anyway. And now the nail's upside down, if you get mah drift. Always twitches when it's going to rain.

BUFFALO: Must be hell.

BIRD: Oh, I get by. Better than having your Freddy mashed.


BIRD: So, anyhoo, have a great day, dude.

BUFFALO: Sure will, Birdman. Fifi and The Sage of Sweden are coming round for some pancakes and shit.

BIRD: Wow. Wish I could be there.

BUFFFALO: Sparky's bought Cindy a new dress for the occasion.

BIRD: Oh, lumme.

BUFFALO: He's getting the Toe Jam ready as we speak.

BIRD: Yum.

BUFFALO: A Parent Lee, The Sage wants a chat about Bergman or something.

BIRD: Most intriguing. There's the bell. Think Miss Crackingham is here. See ya later.

BUFFALO: Cheerio, El Birdio.

BIRD: Film at eleven.

SPARKY: My, ain't Cindy a picture in her new dress! She looks good enough to eat.

BUFFALO: Thank Gott und Himmel she ain't made of marzipan. Arf, arf!

Sunday, September 03, 2006

THE SAGE: Hej, Bird & Buffalo!


THE SAGE: God morgan.

BIRD: Yikes.

BUFFALO: Deffo not German.

THE SAGE: Hur gar det?

BIRD: Whoor gar what?

BUFFALO: English, bitte.

BIRD: Ja. Bitte.

THE SAGE: When the river is flowing, follow the boat.

BIRD: Omigod. He's off again.

BUFFALO: Think he's been on the Benadryl again?

BIRD: That or the anti-freeze.

THE SAGE: When the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.

BIRD: Nope. Didn't get that one.

BUFFALO: Me neither. What's he goin' on about, Fifi?

FIFI: Intraspecies fornication's not for me!
I'm as red-blooded a homo sapiens as can be!
Yet for first-rate woo-woo-woo
And superior kootchy-koo
Nothing beats a frisky fraulein with a goatee.

BIRD: Not you too?

BUFFALO: Totally ga-ga.

SPARKY: They're out there, man. The Charlie's everywhere.

BUFFALO: It's a friggin' madhouse. Lemme out.

DOTTY: Now THAT'S funny!

BIRD: Help! Geschnellen!

THE SAGE: Ha det sa bra!

BUFFALO: Wot bra?

FIFI: He's saying have a nice day. Tra-la-la-la-la-la-lee. Gimme the goatee, gimme the goatee.

BIRD: I want my mommy.

BUFFALO: I want my head doc.

BIRD: Film at eleven.

BUFFALO: Ge-arf, arf!


Saturday, September 02, 2006


THE SAGE: Ancient Swedish proverb say fear less, hope more; eat less, chew more; whine less, breathe more; talk less, say more; hate less, love more and ALL good things are yours.

BIRD: Oh, sehr, sehr gut, Herr Sage.

BUFFALO: Oh, bravo. Bravo! Wunderbar.

BIRD: Sehr danke, Herr Sage.


BIRD: Yes, Buff?

BUFFALO: Why are we talking German?

BIRD: Verstehe nicht, Buff.

BUFFALO: Fecken Sie grossen Dummkopf, meine Birdy!

BIRD: Film um elf Uhr, Herr Buffenhosen.

BUFFALO: Gearf, arf!