So the door flies open. Pam wobbles in, bolt upright like she has books on her head. It's on account of her… — DBC Pierre
So the door flies open. Pam wobbles in, bolt upright like she has books on her head. It's on account of her center of gravity. 'Vernie, you eatin ribs? What did you eat today?'
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Fate always pays attention to what you think, then slams it up your fucken ass.
'And here's the winning ticket,' says Gibbons. 'Green forty-seven!' A sluggish frenzy breaks through the tent. The kid stops, and drags a mangled pink ticket from his pocket. He squints at it, like it might turn fucken green.
"We could turn your situation around three hundred and sixty degrees..."
