Mmmmmmm, elderberry wine! I haven’t had elderberry wine since I was a boy.
First, let’s drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours.
If anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving. I am NOT drinking any fucking Merlot!
Jeez, who pissed in your cornflakes?
Make the best of what we offer you, and you will suffer less than you deserve.
Deserve’s got nothing to do with it.
Oh my goodness, what a beautiful fur!
Don’t touch it. Don’t even look at it. Go on, get out.
You don’t get to tell me what to do.
Ever again.
You’re not the boss of me.
Mukarjee could swear by the beard of the prophet or the nails of the true cross and it wouldn’t mean a thing. Because Mukarjee is a goddamned, godless, atheist Marxist. And the only thing that he holds sacred is Che Guevara’s foreskin.
What do ya got here, anyways? “Rainbow Alligator Saves the Wetlands”? Uh, no. “The Organic Squirrel Gets a Bike Helmet”? I’m not reading these Communist books to you guys! Don’t you got any REAL stories?
*“His strong manly hands probed every crevice of her silken femininity, their undulating bodies writhing in sensual rhythm, as he thrust his purple-headed warrior into her quivering mound of love pudding.” *
Venkman, get a sample of this.
Oh, HELL no!
You wanna know something? Every now and then say, “What the fuck?” “What the fuck” gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity. Opportunity makes your future.
No no no no no, fuck freedom!
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to.
I don’t want to pick it up, mister. You’ll shoot me.
I’m not going to kill you. I want you to do me a favor. I want you to tell all your friends about me.