Trow your mama off de tram
"How old are you?"
"Isn't dat our house?"
"Stop pretending to be senile, we're ten stops from home. I'm asking you a question: how old are you?"
"Old enough I kick your head."
"I've known you forty years, and you were ancient then. What are you, eighty, eighty-five?"
"Vy you vant to know? You an old Irish bastid, I an old Jew bastid kick your head. Is dat our house?"
"We don't live on this street."
"I live on de trem line!"
"I feel old. My bloody hip is achin' and it won't be long before my legs give out. What's gonna happen when we can't walk anymore? Who's goin' to look after us?"
"Doan vurry. Ven de day comes, I trow you out da vindow."
"We live in the basement, you daft fecker."
"I tell you vot: you know dat - vot he called - de liddle vun?"
"Did you take your pill this morning?"
"Shadap, I break you head. No, de liddle vun - Danny DeVito. You know him?"
"I put it on the counter with your tea."
"I tell you, you got to see dat vun, dat movie - now, it, dey call it - vot dey call it - Trow Your Mama Off De Tram?"
"What did you say about my mother?"
"You got to see dat vun. You feel down, you see dat movie, I promise, you piss yourself, all over."
"You're an eejit."
"All over, you laugh so much you piss all over. You never be so happy."
"Honestly, you're like a child. How old are you?"
"Isn't dat our house?"
"No, it's - bollocks!"













[...] “Yes,” they say, “it’s all very well, all this business with burgling and urine portage and the lesser-known works of Danny DeVito, but didn’t you used to be an unrequited novelist?” [...]
Pingback by matlarkin.com » The semi-requited novelist - the unrequited novelist — June 29, 2006 @ 4:53 pm