This is copied from a thing on the cookdandbombd forums about overhearing bleak conversations. But then, if you think about it, it was originally copied from real life. Real life belongs to everybody, sort of.
Puns have the capacity to be every bit as depressing as the failed lives of real people. Oh when will there be an end to the puns?
Of course I didn't really; no, I just went home and took it out on my The Cheat. It's sad to think how many households must bear witness to the same sad scenario: a man goes to work, he has his personal habits questioned by strangers, he drinks himself into a stupor (this step optional), comes home, kicks The Cheat and crawls into bed. When will these poor The Cheats be saved from the unholy spectre of domestic violence? I'll tell you when. When people stop fixating on the overrated irrelevancy of eye contact, that's when. My eye contact is strictly rationed. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and I can't afford the risk of people figuring out the horrific truth.
This has been topical for years, but it might stop soon. So I'd better post it.
There was also a horoscope reading:
See, the iPredictor is this thing what can predict anything. In the future. And this causes riots. Somehow. Note how a skilled artisan can subtly create the impression of a crowd, making it look like he spent more effort than he really did? You'll admit it's uncanny.
See, if I'm going to see a film based on a book that I would one day like to have read, I like to make the effort to acquire and read that book before the film comes out. That way I can sit in the cinema going "ohh, they changed that bit!" with the other proper fans. Anyway, it's good, because that way I can picture the characters in my own way, even if as in this case they just end up looking like people I used to live next door to and couldn't stand.
Damn that cookie hypocrite.
