“Look, Daddy! Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel punks a banker.”
Be vewy quiet…I’m hunting pwostitutes!
The Sheriff is pretty close!
Mos Eisley Spaceport. This place is basically jerktown.
“Prune danishes are for closers!”
Hello. My name is Ishmael. Nice to meet you. I’m sure this sea voyage will be a lot of fun.
My name is Inigo Montoya. Pleased to meet you.
The sky above the port was the electric blue of a television tuned to a dead HDMI channel.
I’m the best at what I do, and what I do is, quite frankly, unpleasant.
I can’t carry the ring for you, Master Frodo…so hop in the wheelbarrow, and let’s trundle!
I know what you’re thinking- did he fire 6 shots or only 5? But seeing as how this is a 44 Magnum and would blow your head clean off, you have to ask yourself: 'Gee, I wonder if he still has any bullets left."
As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic cheese Danish.
Howard Dork laughed.
“What is it?”
“The, ah, stuff, ah, I’m guessing lead with a coat of black enamel.”
“This is the West, sir. When the legend becomes fact, we’ve screwed up and have to print a correction.”
“I would be grateful if you would let me observe the filthy lucre.”
Luke… I bonked your mother.
Luke . . . I’m your second cousin, once removed.
Toto . . . I don’t know where we are, maybe somewhere outside Wichita.
Frankly my dear . . . wait, what did you say?
I am Bond. But you can call me Jimmy.
Howard Roard stubbed his toe.
“Where’s my fucking sled?”
“What we’ve got here is a failure to mime naked, all slathered in fish oil.”
“You’re a sometimes obtuse, peevish-minded, devious fucking fuckstick…Mr. Grinch.”
"I know what Aunt Doris (who recently had a bad fall) is thinking: Will Dotty bring over five marigold flower seedlings, or six? And goodness to gracious, in all the hullaballoo of their next-door neighbour Winnie’s humming-along garage sale, poor old Aunt Doris just couldn’t quite remember. But being that Dotty is also packing heat, of apparently some considerable power (so old Ned Biggams told her, anyway), and would apparently cause some damage to her pyracntha and fuschia trellice, Aunt Doris had to speculate, well, basically one conundrum: as to whether or not the rest of her day would bring her the good fortune and serene resonance that so often filled her wonderfully-sun-setted days. ‘Well, do you, Aunt Doris?’ she pondered.
The hesitant, nerdish, wussy, scared-shitless butt-tarts come out to PLAAAYY-AYY!!!
“I’m late, I’m late, for a very important appointment.”
“To be the first to see new places. Boldly.”
“‘To be, or not to be’; is that a question?”
“You call that a banana?..Now that’s a banana.”