(Or things I overheard on my holiday)
I don’t know where I am.
—That’s all right. Neither do I.
Jim says we’re more in tune with the Scandinavians, but I don’t mind the French.
— I don’t understand contemporary French, not in those movies. It’s lower class.
Vy choose her? She looks like a vimp.
I’ve got problems with spinach in any case.
Politicians, they do anything to win.
—Look at the calibre of people we have in politics.
I never realised how stressful it would be, pushing papers around.
— It’s because you never really achieve anything.
I’m never gunna look back and remember what I did.
— Yeah. You’ll never say, “Gee, I made a difference.”
The rumour is that X is the father.
My goodness, all the girls have grey hair now.
You’ll have to explain to me what that is.
— I don’t know. All I know is that it’s healthy.
You’re not a machine. You need to recharge your batteries.
Did I tell you I’m a bit of a medium as well as a masseuse?
Well, I can tell you there’s someone in the room wearing a green scarf.
Don’t tell anyone.
—Mate, I’m like a coffin.
What do you mean?
—The lid’s closed. Nothing gets out.
How much do you love me? (pause)
That’s the wrong answer. Why can’t you just play the game?
Are you ready to order?
—Um…can I make up my own breakfast?
Of course. What would you like?
—Um…(long pause)…um…I’ll have…um…(long pause)…the bacon and eggs.
Like on the menu?
Now, who can tell me what the most famous building in Sydney is? Yes, Scott?
—Miss, it’s Westfield.