And do you know what happens when a dinosaur eats cow vindaloo, and then eats two and a half tons of mint-choc ice cream, followed by four hundred crates of orange ice-pops, and swills the whole thing down with two thousand gallons of a popular fizzy drink? Do you know what happens?
Now, you might be thinking this is an obvious one and something of a low hanging fruit, however it is in fact a different black number with completely different gold spangles …. I mean, it’s lacking the “so” therefore it’s from Stasis Leak not White Hole.
You call this happiness? Surrounded by toadying lackeys and paid sycophants? Living with a love goddess, sex-bomb model megastar. You call this contentment? Y’know, I stand here now, and I look at the two of us, and I ask one simple question: who is the rich man? You, with your fifty-eight houses, your private island in the Bahamas, your multi-billion pound business empire, or me, with…with…with what I’ve got?
The only survivors were Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and his pregnant cat who was safely sealed in the hold. Revived 3 million years later, Lister’s only companions are a life form… oh fuck.
Well, Sartre, we don’t like existentialists around here, and we certainly don’t like French philosophers poncing around in their black polo-necks filling everyone’s heads with their theories about the bleakness of existence and the absurdity of the cosmos, clear?
In episode 2F09, when Itchy plays Scratchy’s skeleton like a xylophone, he strikes the same rib twice in succession yet he produces two clearly different tones. I mean, what are we, to believe that this is some sort of a magic xylophone or something?
The way I see it, these days there’s a war on, right? And, ages ago, there wasn’t a war on, right? So, there must have been a moment when there not being a war on went away, right? And there being a war on came along. So, what I want to know is: How did we get from the one case of affairs to the other case of affairs?
Just one question: is this cool? Is this cool? Is this cool? Is this cool? All these people: are they cool? Is this cool? This guy: cool, is he? This guy: is he cool? This woman: she cool? So what about me: do I look cool? Do I? Do I look cool, do I really look cool? Do I? Do I? DO I?
Listen, if someone who knew the future pointed out a child to you and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, to be a ruthless dictator who would destroy millions of lives, could you then kill that child?