Dirk:
Some people collect stamps. Some play a bit of golf. For me, it was butt-sculpture. Fag-modelling. Turning dirty old stogies into works of art. Started off with a small camel gumbie, then moved on. Trojan horse. Steam train. One day I plan to do the Crash of the Hindenberg. It's a lot like fishing - you get stinky fingers doing that, too.
Dirk:
I had a 'who' and a 'how' but I didn't have a 'why'. Maybe I didn't even have a 'who'. I couldn't say for certain how that who did what he did how he did, and why he did what he did how he did - shit - I didn't have a 'what' either! But I had a 'where'! Where he did what he did how he did. But I still couldn't prove HOW he could do what he did, or even if he COULD do what he diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-do- It'd been a long day.
Dirk:
Nah...shoot! I don't care. This isn't happening. You're not here. I'm not here. I'm probably laying gaa-gaa in some gutter. This is all just some hallucination. In a couple of hours some blokes from my buck's night are probably gonna come along and piss all over me. Well, thank you linesman, thank you ballboy, so into your jamies, grab your teddy, off to bed and get fucked! HENDERSON shoots.复制复制成功复制失败，请手动复制
