21 de febrero de 2011

Find yourself an antique rocking chair to die in!

Joel: Wanna go?
Clem: I want to have a baby.
Joel: Let's talk about it later.
Clem: No! I want to have a baby.
Joel: I don't think we're ready.
Clem: You're not ready.
Joel: Clem, do you really think you could take care of a kid?
Clem: What???
Joel: I don't wanna talk about it here.
Clem: I can't hear you. I can never the fuck understand what you're saying.
Joel: I don't wanna talk about this!
Clem: Fucking ventriloquist! We're fucking gonna talk about it!
Joel: I... don't... want... to...
Clem: You can't just say something like that and say you don't wanna talk about it!
Joel: I'm sorry, Clem.
Clem: I'd make a fucking good mother! I love children, I'm creative and smart, and I'd make a fucking great mother!
Joel: Oh, God... Mmm!
Clem: It's you, Joel. It's you who can't commit to anything!
Joel: It's going! It's going!
Clem: 
You have no idea how lucky you are I'm interested in you! 
Maybe I should end this right here, Joel! 
Leave you at the flea market with this stupid costume jewelry! 
It's done. This is crap. 
Maybe you could find yourself an antique rocking chair to die in! 
All the pain, confusion...

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