Betty I got a bag of jewels...and there all for you...
But Gord, I don't care about jewels, I just want to suck your...
Wait a second, let's recap. Last night, we lost my car, we accepted stolen money from a transsexual stripper, and now some space nerds want us to find something we can't pronounce. I hate to say it, Chester, but maybe we need to cut back on the shibbying.
[SLAP!!]
Thanks, dude.
And theeeen?
Well, you didn't have to go all eggroll on that speaker box, dude.
I'm not the one who called the Dali Lama a fag!
We should have bought a squirrel, we didn't buy a squirrel.
Which is why we stole the rocket car.
Playing to lose is like sleeping with your sister. Sure she's a great piece of tail with a blouse full of goodies, but it's just illegal. Then you get into that whole inbred thing. Kids with no teeth who do nothing but play the banjo... eat apple sauce through a straw... pork farm animals.
Eyes, fingers, toes: two, ten, eleven
Buckaroo, The White House wants to know is everything ok with the alien space craft from Planet 10 or should we just go ahead and destroy Russia?
Tell him yes on one and no on two.
Which one was yes, go ahead and destroy Russia...or number 2?
Conversation with Zuzu Petals was like masturbating with a cheese grater: slightly amusing, but mostly painful.
Wait, we can not break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, and you will play golf. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They said do not trust the pilgrims. And especially do not trust Sarah Miller. For all these reasons I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground.
Richie loved to use 22s because the bullets are small and they don't come out the other end like a 45, see, a 45 will blow a barn door out the back of your head and there's a lot of dry cleaning involved, but a 22 will just rattle around like Pac-Man until you're dead.
When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, looks you crooked in the eye and asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."
It's got a cop motor, a 440 cubic inch plant, it's got cop tires, cop suspensions, cop shocks. It's a model made before catalytic converters so it'll run good on regular gas. What do you say, is it the new Bluesmobile or what?
Fix the cigarette lighter.
You dress in the manner of a male prostitute.
What he did to Hamlet, we are now doing to Poland.
...and with no more ado I give to you, the seeker of serenity. The protector of Italian virginity. The enforcer of our Lord God. The one the only Sir Ulllrrrich von Lichenstein
Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.
I don't make major motion pictures. I make crap.
Yes, but if you take that crap and put a star in it, then you've got something.
Yeah, crap with a star.