"That's it! That's the last fucking time we're ever going on holiday with beavers. Can't take their chattering. Always chattering!"
or click here"What the fuck's wrong with your face?! Christ on a bike, next time you're smiling, warn me."
or click here(as I'm peeing in our en-suite bathroom) "What are you pouring that away for? I wanted that. Christ you're a selfish fucking cunt. I don't care. Cold tea is still tea nonetheless."
or click here"Why aren't you making me warm, hmm? Hmm? Why aren't you making me warm? That's your one fucking job, to make me warm, why the fuck are you not doing your job?... Being dead is no fucking excuse, you make me fucking warm!"
or click here__________
Karen's notes: All of this chattering occurred around 2 in the morning. It ended with Adam waking himself up, tangled up in the duvet, thus:
or click here