The Braille on Tim's Bum

Rich: Tim's always doing this on stage..
Tim: I'm trying to finish a joke here.
Rich: Over twenty-five years he's always come on stage and said how beautiful he is, how handsome he is, what a cute arse he's got. (screams from the audience)
Paul: No, don't do that, don't do that. I'll be honest with you now, nice bit of mould growing across the back there, bit of fungal growth creeping out through the cotton. Look, um, I will be honest with you. Right, Tim's arse may not be hairy, no, but it is covered in hundreds of tiny little razor nicks.
Tim: Three reasons. I said what are they Daniel, he said, one...
Paul: Tim's arse right, may be covered in hundreds of little razor nicks, but it also has hundreds and thousands pimples, that spell out, in braille, help me.
Tim: No, actually, that says helicopter me, helicopter.
Paul: Oh, helicopter me, does it really? Helicopter me does it? Helicopter me mate. Obviously we didn't pull the arse cheeks wide enough apart then. Probably a whole list of messages down the crack eh?
Tim: Ok, that's it. That's it. He said, one, I've got no talent, two...
Paul: Helicopter me. Aah..children crossing. Um, in event of emergency, push out back window. Um, no..the managemnet reserves the right to refuse entry.
Rich: Um, maybe, one way.
Tim: Oh Jesus, I'm being heckled by Richard, my life is shit.
Paul: This way up. Open other end. Um, children under seven must be accompanied by an adult.
Rich: Loading zone, two to four pm.
Paul: In an emergency, gas masks will fall from the ceiling, you have a whistle to attract attention, and this light will go on when you're in water.
Rich: Pull cord to inflate inflatable liferaft.
Tim: Well, that's the way it goes, isn't it. Anyway, that's the way it goes.
Paul: Emergency phone two hundred metres.
Rich: Stop! Go back, you are going the wrong way!
Tim: This is what happens when we let people from Mt Drouid into the room.
Paul: Made in Thailand. Hand wash separately.
Rich: Opportunity school.
Paul: Darryl Somers lives here.
Rich: Welcome to Wollongong. Population two and a half thousand.
Tim: Oh sure, go on. Pick on the good looking healthy male.
Paul: Insert Tab A into Tab B for your really scary gorilla mask.
Rich: Do not inhale, noxious fumes may cause nausea and vomiting.
Tim: I'm not worried, I can take it, I can take it.
Paul: Oh, I didn't read that down there!
Rich: Latecomers will not be permitted, until a suitable break in the performance.
Paul: Sharp objects must not be inserted into this anus...Oops.
Tim: You're obsessed!
(from audience): Do you want fries with that?
Paul: Oh yeah, that's a good one.
Tim: Gee, everybody's your friend now Mr Heckler.
Rich: You're not in your day job now mate.
Tim: You could have sex with any fifty year old single person here tonight, like that.
Rich: Don't change the subject!
Tim: Let's talk about me.
Rich: Just like a chocolate milkshake, only crunchy.
Paul: See the crunchy parts on the top, you can eat them, and the ones...
Tim: Richard was 'ere.
Rich: By Paul.
Paul: Aged five. And look, the pen's still in it's holder.
Rich: Oh dear, oh. Maximum head room, seven and a half metres.
Tim: We're losing them.
Rich: Drowsy drivers die?
Paul: Ah, well, we've made ourselves laugh tonight.
Tim: Thanks very much for sitting there stoically through that cheap behaviour.

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