The trailer for the Australian film He Died With a Felafel In His Hand
I knew this bloke once, right. And… He used to masturbate so much that he grew very fond of his hand. So much so, that he began to talk 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. He would 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 three am he wakes up in a cold sweat. And hears all this panting and moaning and groaning coming from the next door neighbours apartment. And he looks down at his hand, there’s nothing there. Its gone. Its just this bloodied stump. So he staggers out into the hallway and he sees that the next door neighbour’s door is 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…True story
|—||He Died With A Felafel In His Hand (via bandaidcoversthebullethole)|
- put the fucking milk in the fridge - leave the fucking butter out of the fridge / say no to anal flatmates
Sam: She’s terrified of commitment, Danny. Commitment involves feelings, feelings involve emotions and emotions are a fascist construct forced upon us over thousands of years by the patriarchal hierarchy.
Danny: I’m beginning to hate that patriarchal hierarchy.
Sam: I wasn’t allowed to moan because it sounded like a cliché. I wasn’t allowed to gasp because it sounded like a cliché. I wasn’t allowed to say, ‘I love you’ because it sounded like a cliché! How do you climax without it sounding like a cliché?
Taylor (with a phone book): Do you reckon I should look at P for prostitute or E for escort?