You want I should wipe the dead bugs off the windshield, ma'am?


Todd: You were basically the worst parent ever!
Donny: I was awesome!
Todd: You let me eat cake and lollipops for breakfast every day!
Donny: That's what you asked for!
Todd: You're supposed to say no!

Austin Powers: Your spy car's a Mini?
Nigel Powers: It's not the size mate, it's how you use it.

Westley: You're amazing!
Inigo Montoya: I ought to be after 20 years.
Westley: Oh, there's something I ought to tell you.
Inigo Montoya: Tell me.
Westley: I'm not left-handed either.

Ship Captain: [menacingly] You're finished.
[Shrek, Puss in Boots, and Donkey turn and stare]
Ship Captain: [apologetically] Heh. With your journey!
[points to land]

You're gonna listen to me? To something I said? Hasn't it become abundantly clear during the tenure of our friendship that I don't know shit?


[to Columbus] You're thinking about fucking Wichita. Well congratualations because for the past twenty-four hours, she's been fucking both of us.


Mary: You've been to Nepal?
Pat Healy: Not in months, I don't know why I bought the damn place.

You ever see the back of a twenty dollar bill... on weed? Oh, there's some crazy shit, man. There's a dude in the bushes. Has he got a gun? I dunno! RED TEAM GO, RED TEAM GO.

Enhancement Smoker

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of 14 a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking... I highly suggest you try it.

Dr. Evil

White Goodman: We should mate.
Kate Veatch: What?
White Goodman: Date! We should date some time. Socially. Go out and kick it.
[Kate retches, then forces it down]
White Goodman: Are you okay?
Kate Veatch: I'm fine. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
White Goodman: In some cultures, they only eat vomit. I never been there, but I read about it... *in a book*.

Rick Vaughn: What's that shit on your chest?
Eddie Harris: Crisco? Bardol? Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeño up my nose, get it running, and if I need to load the ball up I just... wipe my nose.

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