complaint

Typically, when English people getaway, you can recognise them very easily. You know, they go to France, or Spain, or Italy, they can comfortably blend into the environment, you wouldn't even know they were there. Sitting in café, enjoying the atmosphere, talking to the waitress, going "What you mean there’s no fucking chips? I'm coming here for holiday, what do you mean you cannot visa. We've got children here. What am I suppose to deal with this fucking tomato fiasco? What is that? Your sub-standard dim-witted services... We're leaving..."

Most men have a lot of trouble with their emotions. Loads of that just come from genetic hostility in them. Men are allowed to be aggressive sometimes like, I felt really pissed off today, I got mad at somebody. Because I was on the train coming down here and the service wasn't very good. You see, nobody likes to complaint in this country, because they think everybody else would point at him go "Oh, you’re the devil!” and put him in a bag and kill him. But I don't care about all that shit. So I went straight up to that Railway guy, short-shelved shirt, safety vest, moustache, eyes are very close together, piercings, tattoos, all that stuff. I went

You see these people talking in fancy restaurant with their dignity and honour. Decent conversations they are talking about things, maybe they don't really understand will find out later, as they getting older with everything that happen to them. They have to go to bed at night, until years and years later, be able to achieve a kind of real intimacy. Cause I think you have to know somebody very well to be able to say