Throw yourself into the road, darling - you haven't got a chance.
a coward you are, withnail.
an expert on bulls you are not.
This is ridiculous, look at me. I'm thirty in a month and I've got a sole flapping off my shoe.
< thinks: 'Tis a bloody Yank/German take over !! >
Right, here's the plan. First, we go in there and get wrecked, then we eat a pork pie, then we drop a couple of Surmontil-50's each, means we'll miss out on Monday and come up smiling Tuesday morning.
(It's not our fault that you bloody Brits sleep all the time)
So I move from snorting to laughing.
Me on the road, forget it (comedic episode with elements of terror in color video)
I : "Let's get out of it for a while. Get into the countryside. Rejuvenate."
Withnail : "Rejuvenate? I'm in a park and I'm practically dead. What good's the countryside?"
(Some Brits have a biological clock that makes them have a hot drink in the wee, small hours. It's our own way of keeping watch. Must be genetic, due to several hundred years worth of warring and invading things)
Lest I fail to be grouchy, consider roadplight for the nightblind, oof, was that a deer?
If you think you're going to have a weekend's indulgence up here at his expense, which means him having a weekend's indulgence up here at my expense, you got another thing coming.
(You mean you got up and had a pee
)
Fours hours to opening time. God help us. Have we got any embrocation?
(Nope, just boirythyms or something. One minute having dinner with Nicole Kidman, the next, wide awake)
I : "Embrocation.What for?"
Withnail : "To rub on ourselves you fool. We'll cover ourselves in deep heat and get up against a radiator. Keep ourselves alive until twelve."
(boirythyms?)
This place has become impossible. Nothing to eat, freezing cold and now a madman on the prowl outside with eels.
{biorhythm probably?)
Sit down man, find your neutral space. You have done something to your brain. You have made it high. If I lay 10 mills of diazipan on you, you will do something else to your brain, you will make it low. Why trust one drug rather than the other. That's politics ain't it.
(Oh well, back to Ms Kidman...G'night, CJ )
What about the Wellingtons?
Bollock's the Wellingtons. We'll tell him there was a farmers' conference and there was a run on them.
(sleep well, Spanky. I'm having dinner now)
This guy found a trailer, too.
They're selling hippie wigs in Woolworth's, man
Well America always has been slow in catching up!
How can they catch up you silly moo. All they ever do is shout self-serving assertions at each other.
Who do you think the next President will be, Eddie Murphy looks like a suitable guy to me?
