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Он умер с фалафелем в руке

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know,
40 years?
Two times a day?
Who gets to do it
two times a fucking day?
Me and Jess used to.
Two times a day...
Me and Jess used to do it
five times a day.
For 40 years?
What about hangovers?
What about Christmas Day?
How can you do it five times
on Christmas Day
while the family's sitting
around carving up the turkey?
Make up for it at night
with the wife.
What wife? You haven't had
a wife in over six months.
l haven't got a problem
getting women.
l've got this thing l can do
that sends them gaga.
How exactly do you mean 'gaga'?
Gaga. lnsane, berserk, talking
in tongues. You know, gaga.
What, like some sort
of secret weapon?
Some kind of like
weird sideways movement?
Can't really say, Flip.
But it's pretty special, though.
lt could be worth
a lot of money.
Let's just get this straight.
You're 20-something years old.
You have no job, no money,
very few prospects.
You haven't been seen
in the vicinity of anything
which even faintly resembles
a member of the opposite sex
in over six months.
And yet,
you sit here and tell us
that you have
some kind of special thing
that makes the other side
go gaga.
Well, if it makes them
go so fucking gaga,
then what the fuck are you
doing here with us losers?
Yeah, he's got a point there,
Danster.
Yeah, well,
l didn't say it fixed
all the emotional stuff, did l?
Did l hear someone mention
emotional stuff?.
MAN: A writer?
You're a writer?
l'm a writer.
l worked at Burger King
for three years
before getting this job.
l've got an arts degree.
lf we get you a job that says
you lick toilet bowls,
then that's what you do.
You lick toilet bowls.
(Laughs)
(Mutters) A writer?
Jesus.
You can't write.
l can write.
Philosophical insights...
Direct experience
with the mystery of being...
Dusky whores...
Russian transvestites...
An unfinished thesis on the
1 0 most painful human emotions
does not constitute writing.
Got stuck on jealousy.
lf it points inwards,
it means your heart's full.
lf it points outwards,
it means your heart's empty.
You'd better
spin it round, then.
She might change her mind.
She ran off
with your best friend.
She said
l didn't let her breathe.
She said she needed some space.
You followed her
every time she left.
You sat outside the door
when she went to the toilet.
ls it my fault l worried
l didn't have a reason to exist
whenever she wasn't around?
What about a muse?
Enigmatic, mysterious,
intelligent of spirit...
All great writers have a muse.
What about teletype paper?
Excuse me?
Kerouac wrote on the road on an
entire roll of teletype paper.
He reckoned the pages imposed
an artificial structure
on his stream of consciousness.
l heard tell once, dude,
you write
a story for 'Penthouse',
they pay you 25 G's, minimum.
25 grand?
Yeah, minimum!
lt won't budge. That must
mean something, mustn't it?
Means you're getting fat.
She said she needed
to live a little.
What does that mean,
''live a little''?
Lead melts
at 335 degrees Centigrade.
The last tram
leaves the town hall at 1 1 :05pm.
That's so fucking true.
( BELL RlNGS )
(Whispers) Oh, shit!
(European accent) l have
come about the room.
( UPBEAT MUSlC )
lt's a tent.
Bank clerk lives there.
Half rent. Saves money.
Do you mind? lt's not for rent.
Name's Jabber. Jabber the Hut.
Anya.
l control the remote.
Understand?
Remote stays with me
at all times.
l do not believe
in the watching of television.
lt is the opiate of the masses.
l'll just pretend
you never said that.
l need to know if the fridge
has ever had any meat in it.
( WHACK! )
l am...how you say...
..non-eater of meat.
Vego.
Vego.
Fridge is cool.
Nothing but poundcake,
beer and fish fingers.
What is this...fish fingers?
Rectangular...
Fish...
Fried.
Crunchy.
Good.
The roof, on the other hand...
Flip!
lt's a beef patty.
Been up there for years.
( DOOR OPENS )
Stand back, people.
We're going in!
ls that wise?
Он умер с фалафелем в руке Он умер с фалафелем в руке

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