humour

Two friends on movements.

Raj: Hippies were a real counter culture. They were a movement against something.

Cecily: And hipsters are simply trying to move the world towards typewriters.

Two friends, on family

Cecily: My father arrives in Paris tomorrow.

Alexander: I will pray for you, to whatever agnostic force exists in the beyond.

Cecily: You need not do that. My father is lovely.

Alexander: Oh really? I thought you too suffered from a case of « batshit family ».

Cecily: I do have a batshit family, but probably not in your sense. We’re high-functioning on the bad-shit spectrum.

Alexander, on June.

Alexander: And my semi-obscure French word for June is rightfully, in my opinion anyway, “frisson”.

Cecily, on her work, her passion.

Cecily: I am a Creative Strategist. I may not save lives, but I sure as hell guarantee the emotional wellbeing of aesthetes.

Two friends, on recourse.

Alexander: All male members of our race are DEAD TO ME.

Cecily: Your only recourse is to become a lesbian. Or a monk. Or both.

Alexander: I’ll be a lesbian insofar as I don’t have to see any tits.

Two friends, on marriage on a cliff.

Alexander: Isn’t there something so much more romantic about getting hitched in a setting devoid of human touch — a place not shaped by anyone’s ideas and ideologies but your own? When you decide to let nature be your cathedral, your love becomes the architect.

Cecily: No! I want our relationship to be strong enough to blossom in reality — a reality shaped by previous architects and heavy expectations and other people’s disdain.

Cecily, on work culture.

Cecily:  In Paris, there is no such concept as “watercooler conversation”. It’s called a communal cigarette break. And it can happen up to thirty times a day. Note to self: spend salary on cigarettes, ergo, increase end of year bonus. Je fume, donc je suis.