Meantime

by Frankie Boyle

Maybe it was all some kind of test. Like when God told Abraham to sacrifice his son, and then, as the knife was on its way down, told him to stop because he’d come.

The scene was pitched somewhere between an old painting of factory life and a bomb scare at Primark.

a man so enormously fat he looked like he was sitting with his head out of a Fiat’s sunroof.

Coughing fit from laughing so much. Likely due to my imagination and the image it created in my head.

She mentioned speaking truth to power, which I always think is a weird phrase because class relationships are essentially sadistic, and there’s no point explaining your pain to people who are just going to feel slightly aroused.

Glasgow was often rated as one of the happiest cities in the world, possibly because the people who researched these things didn’t understand sarcasm.

‘I don’t know if people will want their loved ones being cared for by robots.’ ‘Are you kidding? Sellotape a Halloween mask to a Hoover and I’ll hand my dad over.’

I remembered this story I’d read, about a tourist in Canada walking across some ice that he didn’t realise was on top of one of those thermal geysers. How he’d just popped down through the ice and disintegrated like a fucking Alka-Seltzer.

Social media wisdom is a lot like prison wisdom, if you were wise you wouldn’t be there.’

‘Your generation’s so different: maybe ecstasy chilled everybody out, I don’t know. You’re all into Munro-bagging and sea-kayaking. We’re out hill-walking every weekend. I’m living the life of a fucking sherpa, just trying to keep my relationship together. My body thinks I’m fleeing genocide.’

I actually quite liked Highland dress. Scotland hadn’t got a lot right over the years, but there is a good case for putting a knife in your sock when you go to a wedding.

For the first time in my life I knew the size of an hour, and could feel its edges.