Mum: We had this terrible incident at the hospital a few years ago… A woman who worked there part-time was going around stealing all the nurses’ purses and-

Me: Wait, hang on, the nurses’ purses?

Mum: Yeah, so?

Me: NURSES’ PURSES? That’s hilarious! It sounds like a shitty crime novel. Like, Nancy Drew and the Troubling Case of the Missing Nurses’ Purses. Haha!

Mum’s friend: So what happened then?

Me: Oh who cares. Let’s open another bottle of wine!

Mum: Can you open the champagne, darling?

Dad: The Chandon?

Mum: No, the Veuve. I told you to bring the Veuve!

Dad: Well I just grabbed whatever was in the fridge.

Mum: The fridge in the kitchen?

Dad: No, the fridge in the garage.

Mum: Why would you do that?

Dad: You just said ‘get the champagne from the fridge’. If you meant a specific champagne from a particular fridge, you should have said so.

Me: Yeah, Mum. The guy’s a GP, not an oracle.

Mum: I just don’t understand why you never listen to me properly. If you were unsure, you should have asked.

Me: Yeah, Dad. You went to medical school for six years but you can’t even figure out what champagne to bring to Christmas lunch?

Dad: I have worked my arse off so that you people can have champagne in the first place, and then this is how you treat me?

Me: Yeah, Mum!

Mum: Oh, right, because birthing your children and raising them into semi-respectable adults was just one big goddamn holiday for me.

Me: Yeah, Dad! Wait…what do you mean by semi?

Dad: Annik, please tell your mother that if anybody needs me, I’ll be in my study.

Mum: Come on, get up, get out of the spa. We’re going to pose for a family portrait.

Me: Seriously?

Mum: Yes, your uncle brought his camera and I can’t remember the last time we all had a photo together.

Me: I don’t want to do that.

Mum: Just shut up and get out. It’s Christmas and we’re going to look happy.

Me: But I’ve had, like, eight beers.

Mum: Well at least you’ll be smiling.

The best part about Sex & the City is at the end of every episode, when two of the main characters have an ambiguous conversation and the plot gains some very clever subtext that only intelligent people notice, before Carrie does a contrived voice-over that would make for a shitty column.

For example, Miranda and Carrie might be sitting on a bench outside an authentic New York cafe, pretending to eat cupcakes, and Miranda will say, “How’s yours?” and Carrie will reply, “Pretty good, Miranda….pretty good..” with a slow, mysterious smile, and the audience is left wondering whether Carrie was referring to the cupcake or her urinary tract infection….or both.

Mum: How’s the new job going?

Me: Good.

Mum: Tell me something about it!

Me: Today I wrote a 30-second radio spot.

Mum: Wonderful! Did I ever tell you I used to write for radio?

Me: No.

Mum: I wrote a jingle for Mr Tickety’s Farm Hire. Mr Tickety’s a friend to you… Mr Tickety’s a friend to meeeeee….

Me: Please don’t sing it.

Mum: That was back when I was teaching in Moree.

Me: What station was it? One-oh-four-point-middle-of-fucking-nowhere? Redneck FM?

Dad: Haha!!

Mum: Don’t laugh at her, she’s nasty.

The best part of Poking Seaweed with a Stick and Running away from the Smell is when the kids are so poor and bored that they pull down their pants and run around the house half-naked while their mother tries to insert objects into their anuses, and you feel grateful that you did not grow up in Scotland.

The best part of Sybil is when the mother is angry with her neighbour so she takes a dump on their front lawn during the middle of the night, rather than just eating an entire cheesecake and bitching about them to her Bible study group the way my mother would.

The best part of A Million Little Pieces is nothing, because it is such a turgid steaming mass of literary rape that I wouldn’t waste a match to set it on fire.

Arsehole: Why won’t you go out with me?

Me: You’re coming on a little too strong.

Arsehole: What do you mean?

Me: Well.. it’s like when a cat is trying to sneak up on a bird. If the cat runs up to the bird, making lots of noise and sudden movements, then the bird will get scared and fly away before the cat makes it within a five metre radius. But if the cat moves towards the bird slowly and quietly, one step at a time, eventually it might be able to sit right next to the bird.

Arsehole: I don’t understand.

Me: I’m the bird.

Arsehole: Do you have any hot friends?

“Hey are you going to Big Day Out next year? I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I wouldn’t miss it if my own mother died. You should come, we’re all going. You probably don’t want to hang around me too much though because I’m kind of embarrassing. You know how at every festival, there’s that one dude who’s taken acid and dingoes and smoked a spliff, and he’s lurching around the dance floor, leaning on strangers, and everyone’s all DUDE, ARE YOU OKAY? because he’s turned completely grey and can’t speak and looks like he died three days ago? That’s me. I’m that guy. Pass me the ashtray?”

You can read more about Andre at ilivewithcrazypeople

I once lived with a guy who grew up in Kuwait and would talk about his childhood late at night when he was drunk.

One evening, a few of us gathered as he described a horrifying incident in which his father had beaten him severely for leaving a smudge on his black Mercedes.

“I don’t understand, why did he hit you?” I asked, shocked by the scale of such a beating.

“Well I had to clean his cars every week, and if they weren’t spotless by dinner, I got into big trouble,” he replied.

“That’s awful,” I commented.

“It’s okay, I got him back,” he said with a smile.

“What did you do?” my friend asked, “Did you scratch his car or something?”

“No,” he said, glancing around the room mischievously. “I killed his dog.”

Roughly eight seconds of complete silence passed, before I cleared my throat and asked, “How?”

“Well,” my housemate continued, “I waited until he went to work, and then I locked his dog inside the Merc. By the time my dad finished his shift, that dog was swollen up like a motherfucking beach ball!!”

Then he roared with laughter. My friend, an avid lover of animals, picked up her bag and left immediately, while I busied myself clearing away our empty glasses.

annik skelton keeps her boobs in tupperware containers at night. keeps em fresh

annik skelton queening me.

annik skelton should post more pictures of kittens. i like kittens. they’re cute. unlike me. now i’m sad

if annik skelton isn’t a lesbian what is she?

i googled annik skelton and all i got was this book about dudes with no balls

i hope annik skelton doesn’t think less of me because i enjoy googling her name

i will name my first born son annik skelton

the incredibly pretentious and unfunny annik skelton (editor’s note: fuck you)

“annik skelton” but we want you to be a lesbian

annik skelton reads pigs dont fly dot com

i am training to be a nurse so i can sponge bath annik skelton when she is 80

i read annik skelton’s blog and all i got was this quote

annik is gay

annik porn

annik skelton a friend to the poor?

annik skelton as interesting as paint drying (editor’s note: fuck you as well)

annik skelton is a closet nerd and everyone knows it

annik skelton is in lesbian denial

annik skelton licks mouse corpses

annik skelton might be satan – how can i tell?

annik skelton rides the whore bus

annik skelton should really get back to work

annik skelton should stop being soft and drink at daves party

annik skelton sold her soul to agency land and all i got was… well i got fuck all really. damn.

annik skelton treat you can eat between meals without ruining your appetite

i really want annik skelton to come to my birthday party, love dave

i searched for annik skelton and all i got was this lousy website

i want to make hot girl love to annik skelton

i want to marry annik skelton

sponge skelton parts

the mouse corpse licked by annik skelton was actually a lemur

why can’t i see annik skelton in daylight?

would annik skelton ever get trapped in a sleeping bag?

annik skelton can’t save you now

annik skelton got me pregnant then never returned my calls

annik skelton is a hot piece of pie

annik skelton is gay

annik skelton is pretty short, but that’s cool i guess

annik skelton is the purple teletubby

annik skelton looks like she would wear the pants

annik skelton once shot a midget. true story.

annik skelton provides tutelage to infants

annik skelton should read the bible to me by candlelight

annik sklton stop twitter time

annik skelton wants to fly kites but can’t owing to a congential defect

cheering up annik skelton with rubbish search terms

i met annik skelton once at the pub. she smiled, shook my hand and politely introduced herself. we didn’t speak again. i suspect i was too drunk to make conversation at the time. true story.

i want to snort cocaine from annik skelton’s big black cock

i went to annik skelton and all i got was this fucking search term

what is annik skelton really searching for?

when i think about annik skelton i touch myself

when the sun doth explode on annik skelton

when will annik skelton come to canberra?

when will annik skelton transform into a semi deified being?