16 June 2009

Scott is a poet...

Rebecca:
Clearly your train being a tad late didn't matter too much

James:
Does any of it matter in the great scheme of things?
*drinks absinthe*
*writes dreary poetry*

Scott:
Greyness pervades my everlasting soul.
Death! Blackness and death!
I am but porridge in the bowl of truth;
your spoon is cold.

14 June 2009