This documentary on Scientology cracked me up last night
Paul Haggis: " I mean, im all for self-help and erasing negative feelings, but what the fuck is this!"
I couldn't have done it all by myself
Olives, ginger, basturma. Love em now.
Liver, no—other than yours, well obviously. If I haven't by now, the smell, prolly never will. Dogs are stupid.
well, i better tell em, anyway
a lot is happening right now
im trying to make it stop,
gotta gotta keep drunking
(this is so bad)
tspite, temporary, forever temporary respite, of course, till it comes back—so as it don't come back, i mean,
until i pass out, that's all, i don't want the world, the world is a cookie
he said
crumbles
vi, how did I get so sick
no!
no! no
You eat the cookie,
yum yum good salt lick
getting drowsy
well, if that's all you wanted,
what do you want?
och! well, I was too shy to ask you if you were crazy about me—
I'm out of you like the wind
here are some pictures
okay it's working,
what now
Fat Bastard trailer
Fat Bastard trailer
Fat Bastard - Trailer
(Establishing Shot)
Fade In:
-( )...It's that Fat Bastard, he's eating more sandwiches than he's selling—That's why he can't pay us.
Dissolve To:
(Ext. Street, Favor on Vinnie Baguette)
-Where's the money for the sandwiches! ...rat bastard.
-Fat Bastard. His name is Fat Bastard.
-Fat Bastard. Whatever!
(Intercut)
-And check his wallets, too.
-Uh, sir? He's only got one wallet.
-Well then, check that one... I'm working with idiots. And where the fuck is Jimmy? Has anyone seen Jimmy the Bitch?
- (EatKhash from Boston) Have you checked the baaaaars?
Cut To
(Int. Office, Rich Furniture)
-(Vinnie Baguette) Sir, we gouged his eyes out, like you said.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) What do you mean, "Gouged his eyes?"
-We gouged them out. We took 'em out.
-They're gone?
-Both of them.
-Let me ask you something: Are you a seeing eye-dog?
-(laughs) No...why?
-How the fuck is he going to get my sandwich money if he can't see!
-But, Boss, you said—
-I meant threaten him! You took the poor guy's eyes out.
-Oh, jeez, Boss...when you say it like that...
-Go on, get out of here.
-So you're not mad, boss?
...
-(Vinnie Baguette), Sir, they're here with the guy.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) What guy?
-(Vinnie Baguette) You know, the guy—the guy with the thing.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Which one?
-(Vinnie Baguette) That—that bastard.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Fat Bastard or the rat bastard with the simulcast?
-(Vinnie Baguette) Fat Bastard, definitely.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Show him in.
-(Vinnie Baguette) C'mere you sonuvabitch—
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Christ, I meant help him in; he's got no eyes.
-(Vinnie Baguette) Here he is, Boss.
Enter Fat Bastard
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Where's the money from the sandwiches?
-(Fat Bastard) You guys didn't have to blind me, you sons of bitches. I can get the money—you
-(Chad NewBrunswick) I apologize; that was an oversight.
-(Fat Bastard) Mother Joseph and Heaven, I can't fuckin see!
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Look, what's done is done.
-(Fat Bastard) I can't piss without running into a wall.
-(Vinnie Baguette) How do you wipe your ass?
-(Fat Bastard) Fuck you, you rat bastard!
-(Vinnie Baguette) Watch it now! You the Fat Bastard.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) That's enough, both of yous. Vinnie, get the car.
Exit Vinnie
-(Chad NewBrunswick) Where's the money?
-(Fat Bastard) I can get it.
-(Chad NewBrunswick) For your eyes, I'm going to give you a week to find your way around to getting it. You're lucky to be alive. You're lucky it was just your eyes. (passing Fat Bastard as he exits the room)
- (Fat Bastard) How do I get out of here?
- (Chad NewBrunswick, pauses) ...I'll send Vinnie to get you.
Exit Chad NewBrunswick
- (Fat Bastard, under his voice) ...sonuvabitch!
...
(A porky blind bastard enters the bar with a walking stick)
(Murmurs among the patrons)
...it's Fat Bastard
...that rat bastard
...The Director of the Chandelier Factory
...I mean, there's faggedaboudid and faggedaboudid.
...Everyday there was a new chandelier on our ceiling
...ah, faggedaboudid
...I dunno, you hungry? We don't want no sandwiches, Fat Bastard.
-(Barkeep) No sandwiches today, Fat Bastard?
- (Jimmy the Bitch) Hey, how's about lay off, huh? The man's paid his debt.
-(barkeep) Yea, all right, all right. Here's a beer and pickled eggs, on the house. Is that good, Fat Bastard?
- (Fat Bastard) Yea, that's good.
- (Just Proschut) And get him a sandwich.
- (Jimmy the Bitch) No, no sandwiches.... No more sandwiches.
- (barkeep) Hey Fat Bastard, you should get one of them seeing eye dogs.
- (Jimmy the Bitch) That's good thinking Lou. Serve you blind, they will, even when you get the blues.
- (barkeep) Loyalty like you've never seen, Fat Bastard.
-(Jimmy The Bitch) You should look into it.
- (Fat Bastard) Yea, I'll do that Jimmy.
-(voices among the bar)
...my goomah had one of them German Shepards, three times a day it—
...you ain't had no goomah since your wife found out
Sent from my iPhone, faggedabodid
You're not a good actress. Your facial expression gives you away before you start trying to pretend. When you don't like someone, I know months in advance while you're still trying to pretend. So just tell me what the hell you want to say. I hate the sun, the people who love the sun, with their sunkissed skin and stupid jokes.
one thing im not going to do, im not going to become a creature to feed my urges
hail to the thief isn't a very good album, too many throwaways, what are we, the beatles? opps, sports mode still
i like 2+2=5, there there, where i end+, , i really like drunken punchout at a wedding, notwithstanding the lyrics, i like 2+2=5 again, wolf at the door is cool, sail to the moon is pretty like Nude, but not as deathly,
We don't like we suck young blood, track 5 i still haven't come around to, and track 2, which just to be clear is called Maxymatosis—No, track 2 is Backdrifting, apologises. We also, for track two, we—are you sure, why am i asking you, is he sure? i want to win that pitcher—ugh-hmm, for track 2, we marked down, "eh."
- What is it? I don't have any spare change.
- Well, why can I say "we" to sports but not music?
- you can say we to them two that are doing it in front of you.
- I always do.
- Ah, gross!
- He's gross!
- No, no!
- He's Groscifer!
- You guys are stupid. It was an inside joke.
- You don't have any inside jokes.
- Yea I do, you don't know about it....
- You have none
- Cause you're stupid
- yea right you have none
- Cause you're stupid!
- You have none
- Cause we didn't want to tell you, cause you're stupid
She should grab his balls. He could flip her upside down a couple times. Hello, chair. Hello, other chair. Just respecting their private space, these Americans. Where does it okay in the Constitution grossly public displays of lust? I think she's cheating. I caught a moment of her phone convo as she walked out, tell ____ I'll be home in half an hour. Could be her nephew. Could be her son. They've been in the backseat for a good 5 min. Jeez guys, I was just kidding about the PDA. I think they might actually be doing it. There's a motel down the street, 70 bucks, no dirty channels.
Damn, these fuckers really are doing it. The door's open. I hope they have some consideration in case an unsuspecting motorist grandmother absorbs a good chunk of his ass.
-I don't get their slump. Funk that delicious egg salad.
-It was me. It was all my fault, wasn't it.
-Wha—you know, yea, it probably was.
-What do you mean!
-What do you mean, what do I mean?
etc.
...Last I recall, you guys haven't come away from Atletico with anything but bruises and Their children laugh at yours. Each player on this team has a villa overlooking at least two oceans, I don't get it
...Last I recall, you guys haven't come away from Atletico with anything but bruises and Their children laugh at yours. Each player on this team has a villa overlooking at least two oceans, I don't get it
...is it me? Cause I can always chew tobacco. Where's your second gear? The bruises Juan will kiss—maybe we spoiled you—but ego, I shouldn't have to tell you. You have villas overlooking at least two oceans. Where's your mind? You can break up marriages in a day and still give the guy an autograph, and and what? I hear you and Marcello are pillow fighting in the hotelroom?
-(CR7 in Portuguese) Ah, but coach! we were just making fun
-Make no mistake, we are playing with animals. These guys are dirty...they don't even wash their hands before a game. The only way to beat an animal is with logic, and with reason.
- (Kroos) I hear you clearly—
- (For the Persian, with an accent) but there was passion, coach!
- (Ramos)
Beautiful backheel by Big Benz and I'll be your color commentator, well unless Barca—that would be funny, the disgruntled commentator:
The Gambler Commentator:
"Boy...these kids just can't stop scoring...they just have to keep scoring. Kudos! Kudos to them, kudos. Am I or is it just sounding out my words? It's hot in here! Lou, where's your belt?"
my kind retard child
Quiet, he's gone to sleep the beast
my kind retard child,
he's delicate in his sleep.
I try my best to touch up
the dried cracks of semen,
let's not startle him—
but he's going to have to change his clothes.
I don't want to remind him
He's delicate in his sleep
my sweet, my sweet howling
howling beast
(a porky blind bastard enters the bar with a walking stick)
(Murmurs among the patrons)
...it's Fat Bastard
...that rat bastard
...I mean, there's faggedaboudid and faggedaboudid.
...just pictures of her naked with other guys
...we don't want no sandwiches, Fat Bastard
...ah, faggetabodid
-(Barkeep) No sandwiches today, Fat Bastard?
- (Jimmy the Bitch) Hey, how's about lay off, huh? The man's paid his debt.
-(barkeep) Yea, all right, all right. Here's a beer and pickled eggs, on the house. Is that good, Fat Bastard?
- (Fat Bastard) Yea, that's good.
- (Clive) And get him a sandwiches.
- (Jimmy the Bitch) Nah, no sandwiches.... No more sandwiches.
- (barkeep) Hey Fat Bastard, you should get one of them seeing eye dogs.
- (Jimmy the Bitch) That's good thinking Lou. They're great for protection and for when you get the blues. You should look into it.
- (Fat Bastard) Yea, I'll do that Jimmy.
-(voices among the bar)
...my goomah had one of them German Shepards
...you ain't had no goomah since your wife found out
Look at how much food I got for 5-6 dollars at the Brentwood Ralphs. That's my thing now. Lot of cold peple. If it was another city, I would get it's just me, but they're cold to each other, too. I'm basing this on one or two people who—whom, is it? I mean we're in Brentwood right now—may have come across.
That's some cooked carrots, potatoes on mushrooms—and any way you look at it, that's a lot of polish sausage.
This place is a gold mine. I can see why they want to protect it.
And I wanted one single rib, but they only sold by the slab of $12. I go, "Look, guy, where am I going to put it? Where's Ralph? Is Ralph here? Look, tell him it's Chester MacArthur's legitimate kid, the good one. He'll know. Look—I'm not well. Just this morning, I wanted to ask a stranger to let me in on the secret." So He gives me a sample rib—more or less that's how the story goes. Don't believe me? Look.
Wait. Don't look now. Ok, now you can look:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
