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SONG:  Golden brown,
texture like sun
 Lays me down,
with my mind she runs
 Throughout the night
 No need to fight
 Never a frown
with golden brown
 Every time just like the last
 On her ship tied to the mast
 To distant lands
 Takes both my hands
 Never a frown
with golden brown... 
Flip, turn the fucking TV off!
People are trying to sleep.
Flip, have some fucking
For Christ's sake, Flip!
(Quietly) Oh, shit!
SONG:  Don't you wanna be
 A personality?
 An ocean in the sea?
 But you'll never make it
if you can't shake it
 So don't mistake it
Just try and fake it
 And l want you to know
 You don't have far to go
 So we'll use all your dough
 To buy new clothes
and see what flows
 And powder your nose
for those photos
 You're almost on your way
 To popularity
 And we'll teach you to play
 With icy stare
and punk-rock hair
 And beatnik flare
We'll take you there
 And there's so many
round like you
 And we don't care
just what you're doing
 After we have gone
our separate ways
 Yeah, yeah
 Yeah, hey! 
MAN: Fore!
MAN: Bullshit!
MAN: lt's not bullshit.
lt's fucking bullshit!
White's bleeding over Orange.
Cradles him in his arms
and says, ''l love you, man.''
lt's fucking bullshit
and even if it wasn't,
they'd say it
like blokes say to each other.
( WHACK! )
(Sings)  All the leaves are...
All the leaves are brown
 And the sky is grey... 
Then Orange says back...
..''l love you too, man.''
Yeah, they're saying,
''l love you, man.''
Not, ''l LOVE you, man.''
 l went for a walk
 On a winter's day... 
Why would he say that?
Why would he say
''l love you too,''
if he wasn't a pillow biter?
He's bleeding to death.
You say shit like that
when you're bleeding to death.
 l'd be safe and warm
if l was in... 
He's been holding it in
the whole time.
He thinks he's going to die.
He has to let it out.
Otherwise, his secret
will be carried to the grave.
l love Danny here.
But it doesn't mean
l'm a fucking chocolate dipper.
l'm no fucking
chocolate dipper, mate.
What about that bit
where they're pointing guns
at each other?
What about it?
Well, maybe it's not really
their guns they're pointing.
There's no way, pal!
No way! No fucking way!
Dude, l've seen it
like 1 8 times.
lt's fucking bullshit!
There's no fucking chocolate
dippers in that movie!
lt's my favourite
fucking movie!
You're all fucking
ruining it for me!
 California dreaming... 
lt slices a bit
to the right, dude.
( WHACK! )
l knew this bloke once, right?
..he used to masturbate so much
that he grew very fond
of his hand.
So much so
that he began talking to it
and he put a little face on it.
And he called it Muriel.
And after a while, Muriel
began to talk back to him.
( SPLAT! )
He'd get her
all dolled up in make-up
and specially made
little clothes.
And at night she'd go down
and make intense, mad,
passionate love to him.
Anyway, one night about 3am,
he wakes up in a cold sweat.
And he hears all this panting
and moaning and groaning
coming from the next-door
neighbour's apartment.
And he looks down at his hand...
There's nothing there.
lt's gone.
lt's just this bloody stump.
So he staggers out
into the hallway
and he sees that the next-door
neighbour's door's wide open.
So he pops his head in
and what does he see?
On the bed, his hand, Muriel,
all dressed up to the nines,
make-up on, going down
on the next-door neighbour.
lt's a true story.
Yeah, l heard tell once, dudes,
a guy has about 4,000 times
in him before he's all used up.
That's fucking bullshit!
More like 40,000.
ln your dreams, stick man.
Add it up!
Two times a day,
seven days a week,
for what, l don't


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