I'm sorry, your cock is busted.UPDATE: A Six Word Phrase You May Want To Hear
You've just eaten my pet koala!
I married your twin sister mistakenly.
Your testicles are going to explode!
I'm Satan, nice to eat you!
What time was the apocalypse again?
Watch out for the falling elephants...
We're your new neighbours! We're Morm...
We're your new neighbours! We're Commun...
We're your new neighbours! We're dieti...
Hello! Misanthropics Anonymous? Yes! Welcome, friend!
The Sociopath Society? No - we're socialists...
Welcome to Accountancy One Oh One...
You are a cat person, obviously...
Congratulations! You've just conceived Adolf Hitler...
Collingwood have won the Grand Final!
Your duck has lost its quack.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Wait!
Tomorrow and tomorrow... what comes next?
Oh dear. Speaking to yourself again.
You're a virgin, I'm a nymphomaniac...
30 comments:
Obviously many of these are quoted chapter and verse from the Vulgate.
You are a cat person, obviously...
Hmph!
How about this one, then? A newspaper headline:
CAT PERSON SAVES WORLD! (STORY INSIDE)
Not inspired by this post, which wasn't in my mind at all when I wrote this.
I find 'Oh dear. Speaking to myself again' a much more frightening phrase.
Oh no, Tim. You are clearly a rank amateur when it comes to cat ranting. A true cat person needs the cat to save the world, preferably by lying around doing nothing.
Gown removed carelessly. Head, less so.
I don't know why, but I really like this. Margaret and David reviewed a horrible-sounding film called Hostel II tonight. There was an interview with the director and I had one of those moments where you are paralysed by the extraordinary thought that "This person really has no brains!".
But Nails, it's when you speak to yourself in the third person that things get really worrying...
Karen - naturally, that story was by Joss Whedon, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer genius.
I don't actually do that. I might start trying it though.
Oh second thought, can't do it. My name doesn't seem to lend itself to talking about myself in the third person - stupid name.
Um, haven't been able to get into Buffy. Nothing against it, just haven't really watched it. I suppose that probably cancels out having a father who edited a publication about carnvivorous plants!
I speak of myself in the third person quite often, but I usually like to do it with my surname.
That's not a six word sentence...
Even so, Nails, eavesdropping on yourself gossiping about yourself might have a hedonistic pleasure all its own.
Some of those stories irritate me, because it's like the authors have chopped up words or added words here or there and otherwise fiddled around with how a sentence would naturally turn out. You get similar problems with almost any form that tends to have a restricting effect on language. (Haiku, 50-word fiction, and some extraordinary bad examples can be found in 19th century Australian bush ballads). I think games/poetic forms like this should enhance the eloquence of the language - that's why my favourite here is my effort in iambic trimeter, 'Your duck has lost its quack'.
A six word phrase you may want to hear.
Collingwood lost the Grand Final, Yay!
Eagles won the Grand Final Yay!
My cat got his meow back!
Really and truly, Timmy, my puddy tat lost his voice.. All better now though.
You expect labels on expressed milk?
Sorry, mistake. My rash is contagious.
No donors in Australia match you.
Circumcision, orchidectomy. Pretty similar really, hey?
Average size? Think again, micro boy.
Bravo, everyone! Every word a star!
I don't know. I think that talking about 'Shelley' might get a little confusing.
P.S. Sorry for the deleted comment.
My last lover died unexpectedly - hahahahahahahaha.
Dr Patel will see you now.
Are you my first? Try 151st.
Listeria is not a mouthwash. Spit!
So you found my pathology fridge.
Sir, your sensitive nipples mean pregnancy.
Jesus cured my schizophrenia just yesterday.
I washed the sheets last year.
Bed bugs? No, they are cockroaches.
My car is uninsured; yours too?
You don't like chilli oil there?
My ear wax follows lunar cycles.
I bathe when Gaia gives permission.
My cat is a Virgo. Yours?
My incontinent cat sleeps with me.
My blog is better than yours.
Steve, your phrases are a disturbing mixture of the medical, the scatological, and the erotomaniacal! They're very good. My favourite so far is 'My ear wax follows lunar cycles'. Of course, 'My blog is better than yours' is a mini-work of genius that really captures something about the cyber-world.
Oh jeez Timmy, look what you've done!
Steve is letting his hair down, and it may never stop!
Hmmm - yerrs, getting Quentin Tarantino to executive produce two really vile and crappy films that make a motza definitely requires a "person [with] really no brains".
Kinda makes me yearn to be even half that stoopid.
I'm so out of touch I'd never even heard of the first film, so I had no idea that it had made a motza or had Tarantino as an executive producer. I was just gobsmacked by the director's ridiculous comments about what he saw as the "social context" of his film and why he thought audiences "needed" to watch horrific scenes of violence and sexual assault in the wake of September 11.
Spielberg rang. You missed the call.
Star Wars Episode 37 opens 2050.
Your screenplay is perfect. Re-write it.
X-Files really improved by series 8.
To date me, love Australian films.
Your humour is reminiscent of Riefenstahl.
I only watch Merchant Ivory films.
My ideal fantasy man is Tony Danza.
Only Jim Carey makes me laugh.
George Lucas will direct more films.
The Hobbit will be a trilogy.
Marlon Brando and Cary Grant? True!
Today's stars are so more glamourous.
Let's try this vegan wholefood diet.
Is that Lindsay vomiting over there?
I gave Paris your mobile number.
Sorry, a seven word one slipped in there.
I think I'm going to just save all of those and use them as titles for my posts!
The volcano god awaits your sacrifice.
Sex annually is enough for me.
The condom must be in there.
I have run out of inspiration.
It’s lame but I have one – inspired by She Came to Stay which popped into my head last night despite a good ten years since I last read it. I may have it wrong but I believe the story was, basically: A cock-led Sartre loses to gas.
I know, both late and lame.
Mohammed, I said "sturgeons", not "virgins"
Je ne regrette rien...vous excepté
You may have to shoot me.
You may have to shoot me.
I'm not sure whether I should file that one away under 'phrases you may want to hear' or 'phrases you may not want to hear'.
These phrases are up my alley!!!
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