Original subtitles

But Sunday morning is only for the black

and the sacred moments of silliness are where

I find my heaven, where I find my heaven, where

I find my heaven.

Kiss a bit, mate.

Not bad. One of your mum's better efforts, I'd say.

Korean dog fritters, right?

Sausages on crout, as a matter of fact. Oh, yeah.

Very similar, though.

Hit me again, Alphonse!

I think this might be my only consolation now that Claire's gone.

These quiet moments.

Sitting on the sofa, Emmerdale on the TV, eating one of Mum's Frozens.

Some people would prefer to drown their sorrows in alcohol and cocaine abuse and

600 quid a night cool girls with meaningless sex.

But no, not Martin Henson.

He's a guy whose life is really in control.

Actually, it's not. It's out of control.

I'm two months ahead of my Frozens.

I shouldn't really be eating this one till August the 16th.

If Mum found out I was so far ahead, she'd kill me.

You really are one sad bastard.

Yes, Matthew, I freely admit it.

I am a sad bastard. What's that, then?

Oh, it's just a poem. Give it here.

I had a girl, and now she's gone.

I'm sitting in the bank as the tears roll down. Oh, Claire.

Was it my ginger pubic hair? Give it here!

You pathetic girlie. What about you?

You're never going to admit to your feelings?

I don't have feelings. I'm a double -R bastard.

I've got feelings, anyway.

Feelings about Jason.

My feelings have lost. Now he's gone away.

It might do you a bit of good to try and write a poem about it.

Girlie.

Oh, Jason.

You've got a very handsome face on.

And your knickers have got frilly lace on them.

Don't you?

Anyway, his knickers didn't have frilly lace on.

He wore double -R'd boxers underpants.

There aren't many rhymes for Jason.

I think he really loved you, Matt. He really... What are you talking about?

He was a bloke.

You sort of loved him as well, didn't you? Did not.

Well, you used to hold hands with him.

Yeah, we had the occasional arm wrestle, if that's what you mean.

You're in denial, mate.

I'm what?

In denial.

Hey, Matt, joke.

That's what the Egyptian said when he fell out the boat.

What? I'm in denial. I'm in denial.

Get it?

Sorry, mate.

Look, mate, there was nothing funny going on between me and Jason, all

In denial.

As a matter of fact, I never liked the bloke anyway.

I always thought there was something a bit funny about him.

Come to think of it, I wouldn't be surprised if he was a bit of an arse

What made you think that, then? Was it something that happened when you went to

bed with him?

That never happened.

That was just an optical illusion.

In denial.

In denial.

Out of the boat.

In denial.

In denial.

Get off me!

Hello, boys. Doing a bit of bonding, are we? Oh, hello, man. You're a bit late.

I expect you had to stop off on your way home and shag a couple of axe

murderers, right?

No, Matthew, just working late. As a matter of fact, Adrian, the creative

director, asked me to brainstorm a few concepts with him over a glass of wine.

Oh, yeah?

I expect he wanted you to brainstorm his trousers, yeah?

That doesn't make sense, Matthew. You can't brainstorm somebody's trousers.

That's just silly.

Don't tell me what's silly and what's not silly, woman.

Whose flat is this, anyway?

I'm going to write my journal now.

Matthew, what is all this journal business about? I mean, what are you

it? My journal is about the life of a man.

It embodies concepts that a shagwit or a woman couldn't even hope to comprehend.

I should be ready for my curry at half past eight, Martin.

Oh, Martin.

What? It was shit at work.

He does want me to brainstorm his trousers.

Who?

Adrian. The creative director at Harvey Turvey Perkins Zuch.

He asked me if I'd go for a drink with him on Friday, you know, to talk about

creative future.

I know he's just going to be on at me to shag him. If he does, I probably will.

Then he'll tell the entire agency how he shagged the new bimbo and what she was

like at it.

But you could just not go.

I've tried celebrity. It just doesn't work for me.

That doesn't mean you have to make love with everyone who asks you, does it?

No.

No, it doesn't.

I can be selective, can't I?

Yeah, brilliant.

Hard to get Mandy.

Hard, but not impossible to get Mandy. Yeah, yeah, that feels more comfortable.

Hi, Mark.

Where's Matt?

Oh, he's writing his diary again.

God, what is so crucial about his stupid diary?

Who does he think he is, Anne Frank?

Yeah, right.

Matthew's diary, the moving story of a life spent sitting on the couch all day

eating biscuits.

Yes, chatter away, have a good laugh.

What could you know about the thoughts of Matt Malone, a man awaiting his

destiny?

Um, what do you fancy for your destiny tonight, Matt, pizza or curry?

I haven't decided yet, but I'll have some of yours while I'm waiting.

What's that, man?

It's a postgraduate perspective.

I've been thinking I might do another degree. You know, go back to university.

Why, was there someone you forgot to shag?

No, I ran into my old mate Hannah, who's doing an MA, and I thought, yeah,

that's what I'd like to do. What would you do, man?

Well, I'm interested in Keats and the negative capability of the narrative

but I don't know, maybe more in Dunn and the whole metaphysical area.

Here we go.

Ooh, ooh, my head's so big with a huge great vein and it's pushing out the

sides, it's so enormous and squidging out my ears and pushing my eyeballs out.

I think I'll read this in my room.

This flea is you and I, and this our marriage bed.

And this our marriage bed and marriage temple is.

Though parents grudge and you, we are met and

cloistered in these living walls of jet.

It's an amazing way to write about a flea, isn't it?

So what are you thinking, Mandy?

I love you.

I love you, slave.

That word, cloistered, it's got a sort of secret,

sensual sound about it.

It sounds sort of juicy.

Don't you think?

Yes, yes, I think you're right. I've never thought of it that way before.

Juicy, yes.

Of course, cloisters also have a religious feel to it as well.

Yes.

You know, and this is a thought that's just occurred to me. Sex can be a kind

religion too.

And just as sacred.

Didn't he have red hair?

Done, I mean.

No, I don't think so, Hannah.

Right, that's it for today.

Think about it. Okay.

I was thinking, man, if you got accepted to pose naked for a club magazine, what

with you being so brainy and everything, you could pose naked with your

mortarboard over your privates.

Oh, hello. Is that Brian Kennedy?

I don't know if you... Wait, you probably won't remember me, but it's

Wilkins. I did English at... Oh, you do?

Right, that's good. It's just, um... Well, I might be needing a reference,

wondered if you'd be able to... Brilliant.

Oh, that's really kind.

Meet up?

No, no, no.

That would be great, yeah.

Really useful.

Right, thanks.

Bye.

Oh, Brian.

Oh, my God, look who's just walked in.

On the pole?

No, he's not.

He's not like that.

We've forbidden proof to him, and he's to us.

We can only gaze across an impossible divide that separates lecture from

Unattainable. Ah, bollocks.

Unattainable bollocks.

Oh,

I wouldn't say that, ma 'am. We had our first year before Freshers Week was

over. Well, the only film I want I can't have.

John Donne and Brian Kennedy.

Well, I don't know about John Donne, but I'll play Brian Kennedy there for the

taking. Wouldn't you, Anna?

Absolutely.

Hi, Jules. Hi, man.

Do you want to dance?

I was just thinking, what if nobody ever fancies me again?

What if Claire was it, the one person capable of fancying me, and now that's

over and done with and I've got nothing else to look forward to for the rest of

my life?

Things will get better, Mark.

I know you feel like shit at the moment, but you won't always.

Hey, you may not believe this, but I've got a friend who goes absolutely ape

about red -headed men.

You're a lovely girl, man.

I mean, there's you, your own life, a hopeless, desperate, tragic mess.

Every relationship you have, a disaster.

Your career, just a pathetic joke.

But you've still got a kind word for me.

Thanks, Martin.

I've just got to face it, man.

I've hung up my shagging socks for the last time.

Don't hang them up, Mark. Just put them on the back burner for a bit.

Yeah, they'd smell horrible, wouldn't they?

Hello, Hannah?

It's Mandy.

Listen,

are you doing anything this evening?

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Chris Evans!

Get off, you ginger tosser!

It's not very nice. I mean, well, I'm a ginger tosser too, aren't I?

Oh, yes, so you are.

Forgotten that.

Well, it's not a crime, is it, being ginger? No, it's not a crime, Martin.

It's just the most wankerish hair colour anyone can have.

Why?

Ginger pubes, for one thing.

They make people feel sick.

Take Quentin Tarantino, for example.

Well, has he got ginger pubes? The thing is, Mark, he just wouldn't make a film

about someone ginger.

His characters are too cool. He's just not interested in the world of a ginger

person.

Well, how do you know?

I mean, he's not a friend of yours, is he?

I mean, his very next film might be about this really cool red -haired man

guns people down and leaves them splashing about in their own blood.

I doubt it very much.

No, no, no. I suppose it's about this...

Psychopathic couch potato who's got a surfboard that's never been in the water

and who'd like to gun people down and leave them splashing about in their own

blood, but he's too frightened to walk outside his own front door.

You know when you get angry or your face goes pink and it clashes with your

orange hair?

Claire didn't feel like that about ginger hair or ginger pubes. Not what

told me, mate.

As a matter of fact, she loved my pubes.

Tangerine candy floss, that's what she called my pubic hair.

That was the tangerine candy floss and the little pink stick of Herne Bay Rock

was my tagline.

Oh, I don't make me puke. She didn't give me up because of anything ginger.

gave me up because I'm boring, all right?

And I expect that she's getting pretty bored now.

I expect she's missing me and my ginger pubes pretty badly at this moment.

Keep calm, man.

Talk about colleges.

Talk about the reference.

Talk about the weather. Don't talk about anything to do with... Oh, God.

Just try to keep your knickers on.

Hello, Brian.

Hello, Mandy.

God, I was crazy about you the whole time I was at college.

Sorry, I don't know why I said that. It must have just flipped out.

That's all right, Mandy. I appreciate your openness. It's a gift.

No, but I mean, God, I've made a complete prat of myself, haven't I?

help, Mandy, if I told you that you were always special for me, too?

Really?

What, you mean you fancied me?

Well, your response to Dunn's elegies was something else again.

Yes, but did you fancy me?

Really? For me, you were the outstanding student of your year.

I always thought you liked Julia Burgess best.

Julia... Oh, Julia, yes. Well, Julia's mind was superficially very interesting,

but she lacked real depth.

I've got real depth?

I think so, Mandy, and I'll help you in any way I can with your application.

What application?

Oh, yes, my application, my MA.

I want to help you discover your true potential.

Oh.

Brilliant.

Kenneth Branagh.

What? What about him?

Well, he's cool, surely.

You're such a fish.

Charles Dance.

Mick Hucknall.

David Caruso.

I don't know who he is either.

Apparently, he is a flame -haired Adonis.

Yeah, that's what I'd like to be. Martin Henson, flame -haired Adonis.

Is the entire evening going to be taken up with your ginger crisis?

Maureen O 'Hara. She had red hair. Maureen O 'Hara?

Yeah, my dad liked her.

She was really, really sexy.

She was in all those films like, oh, the Crimson Pirate and stuff.

And she'd usually be this tempestuous, fiery princess.

And she'd stow away on the pirate ship dressed as a bloke.

But then it would all come out.

Usually in the middle of a fight with John Wayne or Burt Lancaster.

Her pert breasts would sort of burgeon forth from a rough leather jersey. And

John, or Bert, would recoil and stare goggle -eyed at her heaving bosom.

And then they'd go, I'll tell you, I'm a proud beauty.

And then, after a fierce struggle, they'd put her over their knees and

her.

You know, I think my dad liked that bit best.

Anyway, I bet nobody turned their noses up at her ginger cubes.

Yeah, she was a really foxy lady, that Maureen O 'Hara.

So, what are you saying? You're like her?

Well, not exactly.

Come here, then.

Maureen!

Back, back, you filthy pig!

I am the princess of the royal eyes! Who are you, anyway, John or Bert? I'm

Captain Matt Malone!

Ha -ha!

Well, there you thought he went.

No woman ever got the better of me.

I've taken me pale beauty!

Ha -ha -ha!

That's enough, Matt! Come on, then, Maureen, show us your ginger pubes!

Ha -ha! Never, never, you filthy sea dog!

And then...

In the twinkling of an eye, suddenly they've stopped fighting and they're

snogging passionately.

Oh!

Disgusting!

I bet you wouldn't say that if I was really Maureen O 'Hara.

Except I suppose she'd be about 70 now.

I'm going to write my journal. I don't wish to be disturbed.

I just can't get over it.

You thinking I'm brilliant and deep in everything.

Hey, you're not just saying that to be nice or get me into bed, are you?

Mandy, as if I would.

Because if that's what you wanted, you should just say so.

Not that I would, just like that.

I used to be like that, but I'm not anymore.

I'm much more mature and selective now. I understand.

Not that I wouldn't select you.

I've always liked you.

I never thought you were just a smarmy bullshitter.

Yes, well, thank you for sharing that with me, Mandy.

Oh, this is nice, this, isn't it?

Being with you.

We're really talking, aren't we? You're really interested in what I think.

Most blokes just want to get my knickers off, but, well, you're on a higher

plane than that, aren't you?

Oh, you're like done.

You've transcended the physical.

Yes, well, well, not entirely.

That's my long -term goal, to transcend the physical.

I haven't got very far with it yet.

God, I was terrible at college.

I must have slept with over a million people.

Really?

No, not really.

I think the grand total over three years was 54.

Is that a lot?

Oh, no, no, not really, no.

I mean, I know some people thought I was the college bicycle, but it wasn't like

that. It was really good.

I got to be really brilliant at it.

I was really very popular at North Kent Metropolitan.

Yes, yes, I can imagine how you would be.

North Kent Metropolitan University.

I was really at a real university, wasn't I? Yes, Mandy, you really, really

were. And you were a very good student, too.

Listen, my place is just round the corner. Come back for a coffee. We can

about the metaphysicals.

OK. Yeah, brilliant.

Hey, Brian.

We're really mates now, aren't we? Yes, Mandy.

We are.

Hello. Is Mandy in?

No, I'm afraid she's not. Not at the moment.

Bugger. How annoying.

She probably won't be back till late.

I'm Hannah. She invited me round.

Damn, she must have forgotten.

Do you want to come in and leave her a note?

Yeah, thanks. I will.

I'll just get you a pen and paper.

It's not red hair underneath that hat, is it?

Red hair?

Underneath his hat?

Yeah. Is it?

No. No, no, it's very unread.

Sort of mousy, really.

A dark mouse, I'd say, if I had to describe it.

Just wondered.

Hello.

Hi, I'm Hannah.

Hannah? Mandy's friend from college, right?

That's right. Yeah.

Done and the mega -penises, yeah?

I love that stuff.

I see you've met Martin. He's a sad toffer, but he makes a wicked cup of

Make us one now, would you, Mark?

Would you like to see my room?

No, I'm not.

Martin, don't you know it's rude to wear a hat indoors in the presence of a

lady? All right.

Sorry. Brace yourself.

He's a ginge. It's tragic, really.

Oh,

she's got loads of books, haven't you?

I wonder how long it'd take to read all these.

Come and sit down, Mandy.

Books aren't everything, you know. We must never be frightened of life.

I'm not.

Well, sorry you had a wasted journey.

That's OK.

I wouldn't call that a wasted journey.

It was nice meeting you. And Matthew. Yeah, he's a real character, isn't he?

I think he's a five -star dickhead.

Would you like to go out for a drink with me sometime, Martin?

A drink?

Just me and you, you mean?

What for?

Well, the usual reason. I fancy you.

Oh.

Really?

Bloody hell.

Look,

this is awful, but I sort of can't.

I'm still in love with somebody else. I'm hoping we'll get back together.

That's a shame.

Not that often that I fancy someone.

It's not that often someone fancies me.

Then come here, you silly bugger.

Well, let me know if you change your mind.

Not in hell.

Took your time?

She's a safety morsel, that Hannah.

Yeah.

She asked me out for a date.

You jammy bastard.

I turned her down.

You wasteful scumbag. I hope you lined her up for me.

I didn't think there was much point. She thinks you're a five -star dickhead.

It's ironic, isn't it?

Like Thomas Hardy.

Or am I thinking of the mega -penises?

write my journal.

You're a sly one, aren't you?

I thought we were going to be on a higher plane.

We are, Mandy. You know, and this is the thought that just occurred to me.

Sex can be a kind of religion, too.

And just as sacred.

No, it's not what?

No, it's not a thought that just occurred to you.

You were going on about the same thing in 1989.

No, I don't think so. You see, what Dunn is telling us, I believe, is that the

act of love between a man and a woman... Shut up about Dunn, you silly totter.

Licence my roving hands and let them go before, between, behind, above, below.

God,

that really hurt.

I'm sorry, Greg.

I think I must have matured or something, but, well...

Julia was right. You are the biggest wanker of all time.

Oh, shit.

Who's that?

Hello.

Oh.

Julia, it was my night for the house.

Sorry, my plans didn't work out.

What are you doing here?

I'm his wife, Mandy. He married me.

Oh. How are you, then?

Long time no see.

I didn't hear you coming.

What are you doing?

I just fancied a bit of cheese.

Why'd you get on with that bloke?

Fine. Really well.

Then again, I don't know.

I don't think I was cut out to be an intellectual.

They're a bit weird, some of them.

I think I'm a bit simple for the intellectual life.

Well, you know best, man.

Hey, Martin.

What?

I was hard to get this evening.

That's funny. So was I.

We're too double hard to get bastards, aren't we, man? We certainly are.

Cup of tea, then?

Hit me, Alphonse.

Better make one for Matthew, I suppose.

Matthew?

He's not here.

He must be in the bathroom.

Look.

We shouldn't really.

Keep guard.

The thoughts of Matthew Norman Malone.

Norman?

Quick, Matt, before he comes.

What does it say?

How to get girls.

Today I made a very surprising discovery.

Contrary to what any sensible person would think, it seems to be much easier

get girls if you are a ginger tosser.

There is therefore no help for me. I might as well give up.

Ah, poor Matt.

Almost makes you feel sorry for him, doesn't it? Yeah.

I mean, it's not his fault he's not a flame -haired Adonis, is it?

P .S.

There is only one solution.

What are you doing?

I think we'd better check.

Matthew? Matt?

Matthew!

Matthew! We should break down the door. Matthew!

All right, all right. What's the hurry?

Sir?

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