How to cope with relationships in the modern era

Hello and welcome, please pull up a seat. Take any one you’d like – the antique Louis XIV, the Ant chair, or even that chaise longue shaped like a Freudian tongue.

 

Let me just spit this pencil out of my mouth, lest my Freudian slips become slips of the tongue. Indeed, if Dr Freud were at our meeting – he would find my constant messing with my tie, eating of bananas, sucking of pens and licking of cucumbers to be a little… suggestive.

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The problem with old people in any era

Modern science is great. It has allowed us to live longer, become stronger, abort foetuses that don’t suit us too much, stave off cancer and whiten our teeth. Unfortunately, modern science and medical advancements have resulted in a rather frightening phenomenon: a plethora of old people. Everywhere I look, they are shuffling around; smelling of mothballs and wee, complaining under their breath about the good old days. I’m sure some of the more PC among you are wringing your rose-scented hands and I’m waiting until someone says, “Wait until you get old, Paul. You just wait. There’ll be some snotty fuckbitch like you complaining about yourself while you piss yourself quietly in the corner, gibbering about the war.”

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How to be Interesting

Jambo! Let me just put down this ancient Chinese burial mask I collected at masturbation camp in Tibet next to my mp5 player (yeah, it’s not available to the General Public yet). And while I’m here I may as well take off this wig made from the dreams of Barack Obama and sit down on this chair that was hewn from a single rock of Lance Armstrong’s self-belief.

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