Sunday, June 28, 2009


“Imagine if we were in a movie. Like, some Truman Show sort of thing. Would you want to know?”

“Would I rather the ED TV or Truman Show scenario, is essentially what you're asking?”


“I don't think I'd want to know. It would become too much pressure. It would change me. Performance anxiety. I would wonder if people 'liked my character'. You would change.”

“I wouldn't do most of the stuff I do if I thought people were watching. My balls would remain stuck to my thighs forever if I thought people were watching.”

“I know what you mean. It would be lame. Paranoia and self consciousness could ruin you. Hell, it already halfway does in front of like, ten people. Multiply that by 100,000 and you get exploding heads.”

“I would prefer not to know. I don't think our lives are TV shows though. Descartes can suck my balls too. This is real life, I think. I couldn't sleep if it wasn't.”

“Even if it isn't, its easier to pretend.”

“Suspension of disbelief I guess is what we're getting at. Necessary in real life too.”

“Exactly. I choose what I wanna believe, and stick to it. Choose arbitrarily, but whatever, Makes life easier. Don't worry, be happy. Whistle that shit all day long. Suspension of disbelief. Have you seen the Transformers yet?”

“Nah dude. It looks ridiculous. Worse reviews than the Hannah Montana movie. Michael Bay, holy shit.”

“On a purely explosion per dollar / Megan Fox screen time per dollar basis, it is totally worth it. Summer blockbuster, man. Anyone expecting something 'good' is a fucking chump. Just wanna see fire and tits. Not at the same time though. Well, maybe. I dunno. The point is you get to forget yourself for a few hours. It works.”

“I might go and see it on a Tuesday. Maximise the explosion per dollar ratio.”

“That is a plan. Hell, I'd probably go again. If my life was a movie I wouldn't want it to be like Transformers. Shit would be way too stressful. Imagine having saving the world on your back? I'd want my life to be the sort of movie that achieves poor ticket sales because it lacks drama and suspense and explosions. A generic romantic comedy, maybe. I do some 'dumb / zany shit' and end up with my hot best friend after she decides not to marry her sports-car driving gelled hair boyfriend, who cheats with waitresses.”

“You want to be a real life Matthew McConaughey character? And I think I am your best friend. Are you suggesting I be your Meg Ryan? Are you coming on to me in some fucked up and elaborate way?”

“I always thought of you as more of a Kate Hudson. And, nah. Besides, you wouldn't date a guy with gelled hair. I hope.”

“You're probably right. But the life of a Matthew McConaughey character. Are you sure?”

“It could be worse. Just seems pretty chill, y'know,”

“It would be interesting to see the 'AFTER' in a romantic comedy though. 'They had three kids and lived happily ever after.'”

“'They slowly grew apart and had awkward sex on the first Thursday of every month, to keep up the illusion. He 'had his golf', and she went to book club. They both still had dreams about how things were.'”

“Like I said, happily ever after. Even what you described sounds okay. Kind of like happiness, these days.”

“Is it the same 'being contented'? I'm not sure sure. At least there is something resembling a family.”

“The 'AFTER' could be that he skips to Australia to work the mines, leaving her with nothing but the DPB and a bunch of Legal Aid bills to try get some money out of him.”

“She will catch the bus alone with a pram and people will judge her. Slowly she will absorb the identity of the single mother. Maybe start smoking at her baby, expressing secret loathing and regret. Adopting the dress code one item at a time. Trying to replace him.”

“There is no single mother dress code. You're being judgmental. Do you realise how much like a talk back radio caller you sound like right now?”

“Okay. So if I said to you – white girl in pink and white skate shoes, boot cut polyester pants, one of those white singlets which is kinda long and then a shorter black one over the top, a Playboy bunny necklace, hoop earrings and way too much foundation, you wouldn't think 'oh, there totally is a single mum dress code'?”

“I would just think 'skank', to be honest.”

“I think there is a lot of cross over. It leads to my confusion, maybe."

“Would you watch a reality show about skanks? If it was like Cops but just followed a bunch of skanks round instead. Sucking dick for bus fare, missing the bus and spending the money on cheeseburgers. Smoking weed through aluminum cans. Riding in cars with “crack a Woody” stickers on the back. It would rate well. I am on to a winner.”

“How do you get a TV show? I think your idea will die.”

“Its one of those things which you talk about happening but know never will”

“Like starting a rap crew.”

“Or dealing meth.”

“Did those guys just throw a bottle at us?”

“I think so. It was way off.”

“Its probably hard to hit stuff when you're throwing from a moving car.”

“It seems like it would probably involve physics. Maths, at least – factoring in the speed you're moving in the opposite direction, making allowances for it. Beyond the average bottle thrower no doubt.”

“Guys like that throwing bottles. I dunno. Kind of seems like they're shooting themselves in the foot. I mean, the broken glass is just gonna pop the tyres on the bikes they have to ride when they lose their license for trying to do one too many 'fukken sweet driftiez bro'"

“Yeah. Lacking in maths, and foresight. A blind generation with dead tyres and too much fucking anger at nothing. Why throw bottles.”

“It is pretty anarchy! Pretty chaos! My job sucks so I break stuff!”

“'Life means nothing so we steal bikes'”


“I am paraphrasing Cioran, I think. Like, it doesn't matter what you do because life is so meaningless – no objective morals. Life means nothing so we steal bikes is how I sum it up. Like I said, I'm paraphrasing.”

“Life is meaningless, so we litter!”

“Except I guess throwing bottles isn't littering. Not in the city, anyway. You can't litter on concrete and steel. That shit is already litter. Fucking entire civilisation of litter. All of us. We are litter and getting bottled is a part of that.”

“Oh man, you're getting depressing. Lets not start this.”

“I'm not starting. Just sayin'. It doesn't matter.”

“I think I'm gonna rap about how cars look when you're walking.”


My eyes are cut to ribbons by the bright lights

walking down dark roads on hot nights

“It sounds cool.”

“That's all I've got so far. It kinda sucks.”

“You got any more beers? I'm out.”

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