BIRD: Dude, Frank Lee, you look like a total fookwit with a tea cosy on.
BUFFALO: Dude, it's warm, OK. I call it the Britney Hat.
BIRD: Dude, if Britney sees you like this...
BUFFALO: Britney, Paris, Helen, Jenny, Betty, Daisy, Carmen fecking Miranda. It don't make no difference. As Joyce once said, "His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
BIRD: Wot the fook's THAT supposed to mean?
BUFFALO: The drugs don't work.
BIRD: Eh?
BUFFALO: I used to imagine that I would be more happy at this stage of my life, living in the bosom of my family and all, growing old gracefully with a woman who loved and understood me...
BIRD: And?
BUFFALO: That I'd be more relaxed and mellow, and a bit wiser and more philosophical about life and so on.
BIRD: What's brought all this on?
BUFFALO: The hat. The "I Am A Fookwit Ha Ha Ha I Shall Now Go And Blow My Brains Out When The Laughter Subsides Big Girl's Blouse" woolly hat!
BIRD: Hey, it don't look so bad.
BUFFALO: Then why are you soiling yerself, dude. Why is EVERYONE I know laffing their buttholes off?
BIRD: Hey, get over it, dude. They're not laffing at you, they're laughing WITH you.
BUFFALO: But I'm not laffing.
BIRD: Light a candle for peace or some Finn. Always works for me.
BUFFALO: Birdy, I have a jar of nitrous oxide in my pocket and I'm gonna use it.
BIRD: Haven't we been here before?
BUFFALO: Yeah, every fooking Friday nite, only this is different, this time I mean it.
BIRD: The final frontier?
BUFFALO: That's right.
BIRD: No more Mr Bare Yer Fooking Soul To The World then?
BUFFALO: No. The lunatic is really me, holding myself hostage. It's time to release the hostage.
BIRD: Dude, it's time you got laid.
BUFFALO: Huh?
BIRD: Wot's Clare doin' tonite?
BUFFALO: Clare? Jeez, I forgot to call her. Wot day is it? She's got meditation at three, dream interpretation at four, scriptwriting at five, manicure at six... and Buffo at seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and twelve!
BIRD: Dat's my boy! And remember, however bad it gets, as Einstein says "Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile."
BUFFALO: Tanks, Birdy! I'll tell her that. Laters.
BIRD: Film at eleven.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
No comments:
Post a Comment