I’m Henry the Eighth, I am.
I’m da hoochie coochie man.
Ev’rybody knows I’m here.
Henry the Eighth, you are, you are?
I’m a mean, green mutha from outer space.
I thought you were Iñigo Montoya.
How’s your poppa?
I am the walrus.
Goo goo ga joob.
I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother, I’m a sinner, I’m a saint…
Oh, hell. Somebody’s gotta say it:
I’m Spartacus.
I’m the one your mother always warned you about! 
Except for the free BBQ’s on the weekends!
I’m Batman.
Someone from Tulsa!? That’s pretty close…closest Doper I know of. BBQ’s at my house almost any Saturday. 
:smack: :smack: Why didn’t I think of that one? Oh well. Kudos to you, Otto … er, Batman.
I am…the Dude.
Can I conceal myself for evermore? Pretend I’m not the man I was before?
And must my name until I die be no more than an alibi?
Must I lie?
How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again?
My soul belongs to God, I know, I made that bargain long ago
He gave me hope, when hope was gone, He gave me strength to journey on…
Who Am I?
Who am I? I’m Jean Valjean!
I’m Adam We. No one messes with Adam We!
…so that’s what you call me. Uh, that or His Dudeness…or Duder, or, ah, el Duderino, if you’re not into the whole brevity thing…
I’m Kilroy!
A policeman knew my name.
I’m feeling lucky, punk.
Because you weren’t prepared.
I am slightly left of centre.