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"Go ahead skin it...Skin that smoke wagon and see what happens (open hand slap)...I said throw down boy...Ya gonna do anything or just stand there and bleed" --Wyatt Earp - Tombstone
I just realized the "favorite movie" part. I didn't take much notice of that before. Tombstone isn't my favorite movie. I actually have a top 3 that are hard to choose from, and I don't think Tombstone even makes my top 3.
Just wanted to clear that up,lol...
Fletch: Where am I? Nurse: You're in the records room. Can I get you something? Fletch: Do you have The Beatles White Album? Never mind just get me a glass of hot fat and bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia while you're out there.
Waiter: Excuse me Senor, are you a member of the club? Fletch: No I'm not. I'm with the Underhills. Waiter: They are left Senor. Fletch: That's alright they'll be back. He went out for his urinalysis. Waiter: Would you like some drinks Senor while you wait? I will put it on the Underhill's bill. Fletch: Yes, very good. I'll have a Bloody Mary and a steak sandwich and a steak sandwich please.
Fletch: Somebody's bucking for a promotion. It's probably that pederast Hanrahan.
Stanton Boyd: Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick!
Madeline: I'm sorry - who are you again? Fletch: I'm Frieda's boss. Madeline: Who's Frieda? Fletch: My secretary.
Fletch: If you're wearing rubbers leave them outside.
Fletch: Frank, I need to go to Utah. Frank Walker: Utah? Fletch: Yeah Utah. It's wedged in between Wyoming, Nevada. You've seen pictures.
Fletch: Come on Frank, say yes. I'll buy you some new deodorant.
Fletch: You fellas wanna read me my rights? Cop: You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to have your face kicked in by me. You have the right to have your balls stamped on by him. Fletch: I'll waive my rights.
Police desk clerk: You'll like Chief Karlin. He's a nice man. Fletch: Yeah I hear he's mellowed out a lot since he came out of the closet.
Chief Karlin: So, what's your name? Fletch: Fletch. Chief Karlin: Full name? Fletch: Fletch F. Fletch. Chief Karlin: I see. And what do you do for a living Mr. Fletch? Fletch: I'm a shepherd. Chief Karlin: Officers would you excuse us for a moment? Fletch: Yeah - why don't you guys go down to the gym and pump each other? Chief Karlin: Why are you doing this Mr. Fletch? Fletch: I like men. I like to be manhandled. I like you.
Obsessed is a word used by the lazy to describe the dedicated..
Gabriel: You know what the problem with Hollywood is? They make ****. Unbelievable, unremarkable ****. Now I'm not some grungy wannabe filmmaker that's searching for existentialism through a haze of bong smoke or something. No, it's easy to pick apart bad acting, short-sighted directing, and a purely moronic stringing together of words that many of the studios term as "prose". No, I'm talking about the lack of realism. Realism; not a pervasive element in today's modern American cinematic vision. Take Dog Day Afternoon, for example. Arguably Pacino's best work, short of Scarface and Godfather Part 1, of course. Masterpiece of directing, easily Lumet's best. The cinematography, the acting, the screenplay, all top-notch. But... they didn't push the envelope. Now what if in Dog Day, Sonny REALLY wanted to get away with it? What if - now here's the tricky part - what if he started killing hostages right away? No mercy, no quarter. "Meet our demands or the pretty blonde in the bellbottoms gets it the back of the head." Bam, splat! What, still no bus? Come on! How many innocent victims splattered across a window would it take to have the city reverse its policy on hostage situations? And this is 1976; there's no CNN, there's no CNBC, there's no internet! Now fast forward to today, present time, same situation. How quickly would the modern media make a frenzy over this? In a matter of hours, it'd be biggest story from Boston to Budapest! Ten hostages die, twenty, thirty; bam bam, right after another, all caught in high-def, computer-enhanced, color corrected. You can practically taste the brain matter. All for what? A bus, a plane? A couple of million dollars that's federally insured? I don't think so. Just a thought. I mean, it's not within the realm of conventional cinema... but what if?
one of my all time fav's!! i use this all the time
It's called reading! Top to bottom, left to right... a group of words together is called a sentence. Take Tylenol for any headaches... Midol for any cramps.
HE WHO MAKES A BEAST OF HIMSELF, GET'S RID OF THE PAIN OF BEING A MAN!!
one of my all time fav's!! i use this all the time
It's called reading! Top to bottom, left to right... a group of words together is called a sentence. Take Tylenol for any headaches... Midol for any cramps.
lol..yeah, Spade has an arsenal. I bet he gave people hell in school if they thought they were gonna pick on the little dorky guy. Just run some shyt by 'em right quick.
I could go forever with lines from comedy. There's no end...
lol..yeah, Spade has an arsenal. I bet he gave people hell in school if they thought they were gonna pick on the little dorky guy. Just run some shyt by 'em right quick.
I could go forever with lines from comedy. There's no end...
I like him, he's like me. A smart ass!!
Loved by some, Hated by most, but RESPECTED BY ALL
2012 APF Ca. State Champion & Double Record Holder
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into locked a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. A normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal that says you are about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling off for a proper place to talk. It will take him a moment to realize that he's about to make a 180 degree turn at speed, but you will be ready for it. Brace for the g's, and fast heel-toe work.
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