Total Recall: Propagation (Synthesis)
Bloodsport has been and gone so now I proudly present the alternative world of Paul Verhoeven's 1990 memory erasure action spectacular classic.
Before I cut the yellow ribbon around the old Oak tree, all that's left for me to say is:
"Welcome to Rekall."
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Just another ordinary day on Mars and what a dry, ugly and boring rock. To top off this shit sundae, I'm always followed by this possessive thing that describes itself as brunette, athletic, sleazy and demure. This purgatory is driving me nuts and I can't fucking stand it. |
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Ah that's better, who'd have thought that such a 'clumsy' step would be so strangely satisfying and just the air I need. Can you feel it, can you taste it? Of course not, but trust me, it feels great. What is this, no warning notice or guard rail? That's just given me an idea for a compensation claim... |
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Right, a lack of oxygen and a certain increase to my optician fees has definitely made my mind up to pursue such a fruitless task. |
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"Due to service cuts, it is with great regret that the rebel workforce has been cut by 50 per cent and while a total lack of confidence is expected from the electorate, the production of cheap domes will increase and if you want to breathe, you have to buy my air." Yep, that powerful statement should ensure another term in office and I could look forward to claiming expenses to turn me from a thin cat, into a fat cat. (Shouting at TV) YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER ASSHOLE. The purdah deadline doesn't expire until tomorrow and political suicide is therefore completed. |
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Good afternoon, welcome to the Mind Fuck Agency. When we've lobotmised your sorry ass, your schizoid embolism will be gift-wrapped, free of charge. |
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Shortly after being told that this is his first trip, Doug is thrilled to find that compliments of the house are there to be gladly exploited...
I'd like a coffee, no milk with two sugars, a chocolate Digestive to dunk and for dessert, a Marlboro Light. |
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I'm bored, so very fucking bored. Ceilings aren't exactly the best tonic to excite a dormant organ that has about as much imagination as a chicken nugget. |
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Two-headed monsters? Yeah, they date back a million years. Hush little baby, don't say a word, Lull's gonna spread you a lemon curd and if that lemon curd tastes sweet, I'm gonna wrap you in a diamond sheet. |
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In order to bring relief to the affected area, you need to apply a gentle massage and not stroke it you fucking idiot. I might as well ask this dumb bitch to practice physio as a paper umbrella is clearly more pertinent to the current situation.. |
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Look Doug, just try and calm down as how can I strangle you when you're struggling so much? Hey kinky, do you fancy a drinky, as you're looking mighty slinky in that dinky pinky? I like a girl who wears glasses, it's so, shall we say, sexier than contact lenses. Ooh, foxy lady. |
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I'M MISSING EASTENDERS AND MY TEETH NEED SHORTENING. LET ME GO NOW! |
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WHAT? It's... OVER? Your moobs have never complained about a good grope before and just because you've suddenly decided you only like it on a Friday, you're calling it quits? I've dedicated my life to you and this is my reward for all those years of service? You're a prick, brimming over with gorilla shit. |
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Lori, just tell him about breakfast. I'm sure he'll understand. But what happens if Kate Beckinsale combines both our roles in 2012? It could send him over the precipice. I don't think either of us could live with that. |
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Let me get this straight as I might be a little fucked up here but you're telling me that my fried slice was contaminated with bean juice and you had the fucking front to sit there and watch me eat it. What sort of evil bitch are you?
Sorry sweetheart and if it's any consolation, I did serve Heinz.
Stop talking, PLEASE, JUST STOP TALKING as you're digging an even bigger hole for yourself. You of all people should know I only like Smart Price. |
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TALK, I said TALK? How do you make your curry so delicious? What's the ingredient you use to give it that extra special kick? C'mon, spill those fucking beans all over my fried slice. |
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They erased your identity and implanted a new one. I was written in as your wife so I could watch you and make sure that the erasure took. BULLSHIT! That's not your secret and newsflash, this is not Jeremy Kyle. |
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Yes it is and don't rip the piss because the 'other' Jerry has long since drooled. Oh and one more thing, our whole sex life is just a dream. |
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Never mind all about that secret agent spy shit, why didn't you vacuum today before you drilled some worthless rock on some dumb ass construction site?
Me? Why is it always my fault? You are such a moaning, selfish and bone idle bitch.
Doug, I really don't think you should be talking to me like that, after all we're married.
Shut up. Instead of making an indentation on the couch with your fat ass, why don't you try moving it and do something useful for a change, like getting a job, earning a crust so I don't have to get my brain butchered and talk with that Danny DeVito wannabe. |
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It's your turn to cross dress before you head out and get smashed. My killer heels sit lonely in the toilet and are only a few footsteps away... |
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Look, I know you're still pissed at me but is it really necessary to redecorate the room with my brain? I'll give you a divorce if you want but please, I'm begging you, I must make that tennis match tomorrow.
Serve and shift, and stroke, and pivot, and serve and shift. |
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Is that a loaded gun in my pocket or am I just pleased to see you? Down boy, down. One problem though, why does the blue pill choose to work when it really DOESN'T matter? |
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Pixellation. It's such a bitch. |
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So there I was minding my own business and BANG, I unwittingly get caught up in the deadly crossfire of a lonely construction worker's explosive mission to Mars. Oh well, there's no fate but what we make and therefore, no point in ducking. Thanks to you guys, at least I can die knowing that I have a little iron in my diet as I can't stomach liver and cod liver oil because they both taste like shit. |
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Well, it is my obligation and I'm happy to apply. If I hit you in the wrong place, may I offer my sincerest apologies in advance for such an inconvenience. Look on the bright side of the moon, at least you can't pull a face like I can. |
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Yeah, well not for much longer. You see, unlike you who can only be described as one of hundreds of expendable baddies that Arnie has taken out, I'll always be remembered as the ultimate human shield chosen to protect this superstar asshole. |
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Sorry mate, it's nothing personal but we're just making sure. |
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Nightmare right? I'm quietly recovering from a ketchup bottle exploding in my face and when I could finally be bothered to drag my ass up, this inconsiderate son of a bitch tramples on me like a rampant horse gasping for a pint. Can my day get any worse? Oh yeah, I'm speaking from beyond the grave. |
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Hello, I'm Johnny Cab, how can I irritate you tonight?
Hey, did you see that game last night? Donkey Kong didn't deserve to be sent off as it was only worthy of a yellow and anybody can see that Congo Bongo clearly committed the red card offence, but somehow got away with it. |
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Oh, you're an egg chaser? Sorry, but all egg chasers are assholes. Get the fuck out of my cab because I hold a medical exemption that doesn't require me to carry such riff raff as my allergy of a forward pass gets aroused. |
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You've fucked with the wrong towel, you worthless hunk of annoying robotic shit. You think that I won't rip you out from above your joystick? Try me, just try and sue me, dickhead. |
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You wanna go? No, you go. But I did it the last time. Look, I insist. Honestly it's okay, after you. Now you're really starting to piss me off. It's about fucking time. Sorry, what's the point in all this? I can't remember. Well why the fuck are we arguing for? Er, I'm not really sure. Whatever, shut the hell up. What's that pal, you starting trouble? Yeah, what of it numb nuts? Well come on then, if yer' think you're hard enough, throw away that chicken shit gun as I know you just don't want to pull the trigger. (The bickering and bitching continues)... |
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This automated internal lighting will come in so handy when the electricity blows or I run out of candles and matches. |
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System detects illumination overload leading to plastic and rubber removal from ugly face. Would you like to restart the system? |
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No, it's nature. These things are written and made to benefit android heaven. I am finally about to reap the rewards of not overcharging and never complaining about the overpowering aroma of old people so serendipity surely awaits... |
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FUUUCCCKKKK! I've changed my mind. Shit, (connecting to bios), can I undo and/or reverse my hasty and even stupid decision? Sorry, you're more screwed than a down on her luck hooker with a condom shortage. HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE RIDE. HA HA!!! |
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What an exciting prospect. I mean, using an external implement to pick one's nose will surely be a sensation more satisfying than flicking my love spuds with a sopping wet flannel. |
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Well this is certainly not what I expected as this shit hurts. How come the bastards never supplied me with an anesthetic? Slack jaw, ball breaking, desk hugging, brick laying, clock watching, dumb fucks. |
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Meet the perfect example of a slack jaw, ball breaking, desk hugging, brick laying, clock watching, dumb fuck. |
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C'mon, COME ON. Hang in there buddy, it's almost out, just a little bit further. (Even after Paypal has robbed my ass, I bet I'll make a bomb with this beastie on Ebay). |
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FUCKING HELL! WHAT A WHOPPER. Hello, my name is Douglas Quaid and what you are looking at is a piece of cinematic history. My bogey, aka 'bug', has been nicely maturing in my head for eight years and I'm only parting company with it as I need the cash to put towards a new car, holiday, plastic surgery or some other bullshit reason what people give for the 'unwanted' selling of such a priceless item. This listing starts at a crazy 99p with no reserve, so what are you waiting for folks?
Bid now and claim a brilliant and genuine piece of memorabilia. The postage charge reflects such a delicate item and rest assured, it will be packaged in a used condom wrapper. Serious bidders only and please pay within 24 hours. Non-paying bidders will be reported for Ebay to apparently investigate but we all know that's just an empty threat. I will post within a year and by Royal Mail Fifth Class Delivery. Also, I will leave insulting and suggestive feedback, guaranteed.
TIME IS PRECIOUS AS THIS IS ONLY A 7 DAY LISTING. Thanks very much for looking, good luck and happy picking, er bidding lol. |
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Shit. Is that really it? I hope the postage charge doesn't put people off. (The seller revised the listing at HH:MM:SS on DD/MM/YYYY). He doesn't apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused... |
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Movement. Signal's clean. Range, 20 metres. Man, this is a big fuckin' signal. |
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Okay, this looks pretty disgusting but I was hungry. I didn't enjoy lowering myself to this level but a rodent will do almost anything when he gets desperate. The takeaway was shut, money's a little tight and the Mrs has ran off, taking all the cheese. Hey, I may be broke and low on self confidence but I've still got my dignity.
What's that? You want me to prove it? Well it will be my squeaking pleasure. Get your ass to Mars. Get your ass to Mars. Get your ass to Mars. Get your ass to Mars. |
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Eight metres, seven, six... Fuck the short controlled bursts, come and get it baby, ARRRRGGGGHHHHH, MOTHERFUCKER. |
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Wipe this fucking shit off my screen. Wipe this fucking shit off my screen. Wipe this fucking shit off my screen. Wipe this fucking shit off my screen. |
A Mars a day, helps you work, rest and play.
Yes, that's where we're heading next and if you haven't already got your fake Brubaker I.D. to flash at the front desk of the Hilton Hotel, I know a great counterfeiter...
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