I like big butts...
But seriously, pull up a chair, stay awhile, play some Sonic while you're at it...
..
You can get your own game at FunBumper.com
I'd like to meet:
I'd like to meet him in the mirror someday (it's going to be pretty tough, I know this, but one can still hope).
Movies:
MOVIES I OWN:
1971
I'm going to check on this address in the Bronx and if they don't know you there it's your ass!..
Get that hair done before Saturday.
1985
–So at first I tried to go through legal channels with the cops, HA! think they were any help? They just gave me the runaround. Yeah, that's when I decided to take the law into my own hands.
—The law...
–Hm. The law.
—The law... the LAW! Well, this is it, kid.
–Wait! I got an idea!..
1997
—You have to get a new look.
–Why don't you get a new look?
—I have a look, ok? The look I have is just fine.
–What's your look?
—Chocolate love! alright.
–Take a pill,
—One hundred percent!
–take a pill!
—You don't have to lash out like that, Buck, I'm just trying to be your friend
–OK, Becky, drop it.
1999
—I'm sorry, it's just this guy, you know?
–Always is, baby.
1970
–Yes, little lady, Lana Turner put her sweet little fanny right where your sitting now. 'Lana,' I says, 'what say we put you in a sweater and make a movie?' And we did, hehe. What's your name, honey?
—Myra Breckinridge.
–Huh, that's mighty long for a ————... Breckinridge?
—Yes. I'm the widow of your late nephew, Myron, and I've come to collect a half a million dollars.
1995
–I made dinner for us, four hours ago. Um, every time I try to maintain a consistent mood between us, you withdraw.
—I got three dead bodies on a sidewalk off Venice Boulevard, Justine, I'm sorry if the god damned chicken got overcooked.
1995
–It's about me and David.
—Oh, the perfect couple, I should say.
–You mustn't take it so badly.
—Oh, don't worry. I'd do exactly the same thing only I don't think I'm his type.
1976
–It's like, I think that the president should just clean up this whole mess here, he should just flush it right down the fucking toilet.
—Well, uh, I think I know what you mean, Travis, but it's not going to be easy. We're going to have to make some radical changes.
–Damn straight.
1998
Furthermore, there is no sacred protection of property rights in our country. You grow marijuana on your farm, be it an ounce or an acre of plants, that farm can be seized, and that farm can be sold.
1978
All right now, for all you boppers out there in the big city, all you street people with an ear for the action, I've been asked to relay a request from the Gramercy Riffs. It's a special for the Warriors. That's that real live bunch from Coney, and I do mean the Warriors... here's a hit with them in mind.
1977
—You know, Connie,
–Yeah?
—if you're as good in bed as you are on the dance floor, I bet you're one lousy fuck.
–So how come they always send me flowers the next day, huh?
1987
There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world... 't would be a pity to damage yours.
1994
– Hey, uh, what do you think about Trudi? You want to, uh, hang out, get high?
—Which one's Trudi, the one with all the shit in her face?
–No, that's Jody. That's my wife.
1995
Maybe I'm'a meet somebody nice who'll rescue me and take me away and... –instead of these old men, you know, with their greasy bellies and their, their money and their UNH UNH UNH and leaving when their time is up, but no because I'm a loser, that's why, I'm a loser, I hate my life, I hate myself, no please, I hate everything, I hate it all!
1998
–Was machst du hier?
—Was macht ihr hier?
2002
And people'll think before they kill somebody if a bullet cost 5,000 dollars, but Man I would blow your fucking head off if I could afford it! I'm'a get me another job, I'm'a start saving some money, and you a dead man! You better hope I can't get no bullets on layaway.
1969
–It's like what?
—Its like heroin, death is like heroin, it's nothing.
–You tried heroin?
—Yeah, I tried heroin. It's like nothing, it's like death, it's just nothing.
1967
Tell him to save a piece for me... of the wedding cake!
1999
Might as well use this psycho killer as an excuse... go ahead, blond me.
1987
—Chris, that was Mrs. Anderson on the phone. She wants to know if you can babysit for her tonight.
–No, tell her I can't.
—Why not?
–Oh, wait, aren't we doing something?
—Oh, I have to go home.
–Ugh, becasue I want to stay home and be depressed.
—Oh, sit for the Andersons, that'll depress anyone.
1974
—Is the manager or someone in?
–We ain't hiring no waitresses.
—I'm not a waitress, I'm a singer.
–A singer?
—Mmm, hmm... Is the manager in?
–He's in the hospital having half a lung removed.
2002
Bachelor number two: I play the trombone. If I blew you, what would you sound like?
1974
Ha ha, ha HA! Things happen heareabouts they don't tell about, Ha ha ha, I seen things. You see, they say it's, it's just an old man, talking. You laugh at an old man. Heh, there's them that laughs and knows better.
2004
—Ah, you're doing some hiking.
–Uh, yeah, yeah. Got to keep the energy up, doing some hiking, staying fit, running a marathon, maybe, you know, uh, 21 miles have you done this before?
—Yesterday I was the bag boy. You must be like, what, 30?
–You must be what, thirteen?
—God, you're a beautiful woman. You are. That's a beautiful shirt you're wearing. Can I give you my number?
–Are you serious?
—Yeah I'm serious
–...ok.
2000
Chau.
1971
—What would you like in your coffee, Ms. Dupea?
–Tea.
1979
—We'll be alright if we could just get back on the expressway.
–This don't look like no expressway to me.
1978
–The only thing is that he's a little weird, you know? Like he went over to Viet Nam, man, and he came back all weirded out, you know?
—Yeah, well that Nam grass'll do it to you, man.
–Yeah
—That stuff'll lay you out, man.
1971
—Guess what.
–What?
—It's our anniversary.
–What?
—We've been going steady a year tonight.
–Really? Seems like a lot longer.
—You should have got me some anniversary present.
–You can have another stick of gum. That's all I got on me.
—You can give me a dollar, too. That's how much it cost me and Marlene for the show.
–Hi, whatch'y'all doin' back here in the dark?
1984
–Ian,
—I mean, what's offensive?
–you put a greased, naked woman
—yes...
–on all fours
—yes...
–with a dog collar around
—with a dog collar...
–her neck, and a leash
—and a leash...
–and a man's arm extended out up to here, holding onto the leash and pushing a black glove in her face to sniff it, you don't find that offensive? You don't find that sexist?
1985
All you got to do is go that way, very fast. If something gets in your way, turn.
2004
–Look who just flew in from the slums of Beverly Hills.
–It's the Beverly Ho-billys.
–Exqueeze me?
–Oh no you didn't!
–Ugh. I'm sorry but, uh, we just saw your new video. Yeah, they had a screening over at Saks Fifth Avenue in the security office.
(giggles)
–A kelpt-ho-maniac.
(giggles all around)
–Your mother shops at Saks.
1987
Even as Hector begged for mercy, Achilles lashed him to his chariot and dragged Hector around the city, finally leaving his body to be mutilated by wild dogs.
1971
"Do you find the idea of wife-swapping distatesful?.." I even find the question distasteful.
1999
–Joe wants me to ... before the wedding.
—Fuck his brains out, use a rubber.
–Gosh, hell no!
1996
Nah-uh, foo', that's the baby's lunch.
1983
–Pardon me, uh, I wonder if you could tell me how to get back on the expressway.
—Hey, fuck your mamma.
–Thank you very much.
1998
–Ain't no money like dope money.
—Son you sound stupid right now.
1985
Excuse me, sir, I think there's been a mistake. I know it's detention, but, um, I don't think I belong in here.
2001
—Dad, that's mom!
–Whaddayasay, kiddo? I'm just gonna leave you two alone.
—Would you prefer the top or bottom, dear?
–OH... MY... GOD!
A History of Violence at IMDb Internet Movie Database."
2005
–Listen, smartmouth, in this family we do not solve our problems by hitting people!
—No, in this family we shoot them.
2002
—Maybe twenty percent over market value.
—Fifty percent you said? Hot damn, college boy, that's some good motherfucking math!
2004
–All queens rise.
–Oh, blessed Saint Mary of drag queens, please grant your never humble servants, and our new friends, with grace, jewels, and support hose.
—Gay men.
2005
You may apologize if you wish—why, that is a perfect bow!.. for a pig farmer.
1970
–But Lance, I gave you twelve hundred dollars last week.
—I want twelve thousand dollars, baby!
1976
–You too, Chris, and spit out that gum.
—Where will I put it, Miss Collins?
–You can choke on it for all I care, just get it out of your mouth.
2002
Next time you and your friends jump me, I'll cut your throats when you're sleeping.
1988
I'm standing there with my pants down and my crotch hung out for the world to see, and three guys are sticking it to me and a bunch of other guys are yelling and clapping and you're standing there telling me that that's the best you can do, hah. If that's the best you can do then your best sucks. Now, I don't know what you got for selling me out but I sure as shit hope it's worth it.
2001
—What I'm doing here is measuring the purity. Pure coke, uh, it melts away at about a hundred and eighty five, a hundred and ninety degrees, cutting agents, they melt away at, uh, about a hundred, and quality product, well that's, that's melting at around a hundred and forty. A hundred and thirty, good, a hundred and forty, yes... a hundred and fifty?.. Fuck me running. A hundred and sixty! Jesus Christ, a hundred and seventy, a hundred and eighty, a hundred and... A hundred and eighty seven. Where did you get this stuff!?
–Colombia.
1998
I wish you'd done this twenty years ago. Now I'll have to get another fucking facelift.
Television:
Boy, the way Glenn Miller played
Songs that made the Hit Parade
Guys like us, we had it made
Those were the days
And you knew who you were then
Girls were girls and men were men
Mister, we could use a man
Like Herbert Hoover again
Didn't need no welfare states
Everybody pulled his weight
Gee, our old La Salle ran great
Those were the days...
Books:
S'io cressedi che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza più scosse.
Ma per cìo che giammai di questo fondo
Non tornò viva alcun, s'i'odo il vero,
Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .
Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michaelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michaelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?'
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: 'But how his arms and legs are thin!']
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all.
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: 'That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.'
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
'That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.'
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old . . . I grow old . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Coming the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
T.S. Eliot, 1917
Heroes:
It may sound pretty run of the mill, but my parents are.
..
This is another hero of mine.
Please click "more" and feed my pet,
or get one of your own!!!
