Passing Comments
A log of comments from passers-by
in the street outside the studio.

   

Ooh baby baby, it’s a wild world. Dee dee dee dee doo doo doo doo. It’s hard to get by just upon a smile girl.

He’s all right. He’s kept his head with them lot. After he gets married, he’s looking to get out.
To do what?
Just to go somewhere else.

I’m driving around in me missus’ Zefira, which has now got more car seats in it than a fucking... car seat warehouse.

What? WHAT? Is that my phone? What are you having a go at me for? They should explain it.

Are you an aeroplane? Are you flying like a bird? Are you a car? Brum brum.

All right. All right mate. See you later. Bye.
What did he say? What did he say? Say something!
Tell you what mate, even as a Gooner...
What?

Then, after that, it’s all gone. Won’t smoke for two months.
Won’t touch it for two months.

Was that a nice time? Was that a nice time? Yes! Was it?

I paid money to go to Prague. Nowhere else.

They wanted to attack me, didn’t they. Those buggers. I know.
I wasn’t born yesterday. Even though I may look it.