You want some moves? I’ll show you moves.
Let me tell you about my mother…
It’s widely agreed that my mother is a bit strange.
“May God wash your mouth out with a bar of Fels-Naptha,” his mother said in reverential tones.
I’m just saying, you know. We, uh, kind of have this common thing.
“I saw you playing with yourself last night.”
And people running into the night.
Show yourself! Let me see you as you truly are!
I’m the same person I was yesterday.
I don’t know where I am, who I am, who you are…
Luke, I am your father.
Perhaps it’s impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be.
You are who you choose to be!
Superman.
I don’t know how else to put this: Make sure they remember you.
Remember, children – when the raiders come, there ain’t no shame in locking your doors, barricading the windows, and cowering under the nearest bed. When these psychos come to play, they have one thing on their minds: making your life as fucking miserable as humanly possible.
He’s the bad pirate. I’m the worse pirate.
Oh, Benson… Dear Benson, you are so mercifully free of the ravages of intelligence.
When you use more than 5% of your brain you don’t want to be on Earth, believe me.
You’re having a paranoid episode triggered by acute neuro-chemical trauma.