Me: What do you want to watch?
Me: Watchmen? I fancy watching Watchmen.
Becky: Why would I want to watch men who watch other men?
Me: You know that that isn’t what it is.
Becky: I don’t want to watch something I’ve seen.
Me: But we’ve seen everything good. What do *you* want to watch.
Becky: I don’t care…
Me: So you’ll watch anything apart from the one thing that I want to watch?
Becky: I want to watch something that I haven’t seen, and that isn’t shit.
Me: What about something that you have seen, but you don’t remember?
Becky: I remember everything.
Me: Name one character from Watchmen, other than Rorshach.
Becky: Uhh… the slutty one, the evil rapey one, the one who fell out the window who was also the evil rapey one, the blue guy, the other clever evil one, and the one who has the weird animal… who was also the clever evil one.
Me: Way to go, so that’s… none, because I said ‘name’.
Me: So what do you want to watch?
Becky: Not Watchmen.
I was at work the other day and, being a particularly Dickensian shade of autumn, I kept having to deal with pigeons walking into the store while I had to, like, herd them out without looking like a total idiot in front of customers. Eventually, one of them came really far in, and I looked over at a lady who was looking at it, and then she looked at me and I awkwardly laughed, trying to be like ‘Birds, am I right?’, but she looked confused and said ‘What?’, because it turned out she wasn’t looking at the pigeon, but rather just something in it’s direction, so I said ‘Oh, uh… pigeon.’ and looked around to point out the pigeon that had, with perfect comedic timing, decided to sneak off at the height of my social anxiety, leaving an empty gap in the doorway for me to be staring at as this lady looked on in sheer bafflement.
So, thanks for that, you pigeon asshole.
‘For Halloween?’ you ask. Nope, just because I got bored of having boring brown eyes and decided to get me some weird blue contacts. I was hoping they would look natural, and not ‘I’m either a vampire or a guy with stupid contact lenses in’, but oh well. It’s creepy as shit putting stuff in your eye though, right? I’ve never had contact lenses. Took me about ten tries per eye to get them in, and about it-doesn’t-matter-how-many-tries-because-I-gave-up-and-got-my-girlfriend-to-do-it-for-me tries to get them back out.
Oh, and for the record: these contacts are the one (two, technically) and only component to my ‘Halloween costume’, because I’ll be staying home anyway, stubbornly refusing, as always, to take part in any of society’s tedious tranditions.
I was in a gift shop earlier this week, mostly in a desperate attempt to appear like I was the kind of guy who can say ‘Sure, I’ll buy some fun knick knacks, because I’ve totally got money to spare!’, when really I’m more like the kind of guy who’d say ‘Seriously? This is £3? Damn it, I can’t fucking afford that shit!’, when in walked a rather noisy pair of shoppers: a couple, presumably. Now, I’m not judgmental or anything, not in the least; but if I were, I’d probably say something about how they looked super rough and scummy. I’m not though, so I won’t. Anyway, as they started perusing the greeting cards (there were loads in there, and I assume that they could hardly read, so it took some time), they eventually came across one that they apparently found quite funny. Now, we all know what novelty greeting cards are like: a birthday card with a shitty joke about getting old, maybe an anniversary card about how you and your wife or husband might sometimes find each other a bit annoying, and so on. Hysterical. This couple, on the other hand, found one that they thought was so positively hilarious, that they roared with laughter for about five minutes, and then bought four of it. They bought four of the same greeting card. I heard them ask the young lady behind the counter if she had more of it in stock that they could get, but tragically she just had the four. Four copies of the same card. That’s what they bought. I glanced over to see what it was. It was a joke about a dead fish. It was awful.
I’ll say this now, and I’ll say it once:
If you ever legitimately laugh out loud at a joke on the cover of a greeting card, you are for reals retarded and shouldn’t be trusted to operate vocal chords.
As the male half of the pair paid for them, I overheard him say ‘I could laugh at that card all night.’
All night. He could laugh at the joke on the front of a greeting card all night, you guys.