07.02.09 BRUNO-QUOTING TASK FORCE GEARS UP

Richie, would you do me a favor and eat my pussy for me… please?

Wow, it’s like that spam-bot knows you guys personally…

Shut the fuck up, Donny.

IT’S A TRAP!

There’s no basement in the Alamo, silly!

Hair are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos and transmit them directly into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight.

Nugent. Ted Nugent.

NED RYERSON???

MY NAME’S JOHNNY UTAH!

I want you to clean your vagina.

It’s “daddy”, you shithead! Where’s my bourbon?

You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it’s me, I’m a little fucked up maybe, but I’m funny how, I mean funny like I’m a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I’m here to fuckin’ amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?

I don’t think you want to go to Seth Efrica.

This is for…Matilda.

(now I’m gonna tear up)

OK, you guys got me, I’m shirleyling39 :(

Al, 30 lashes of Fek’s wet, blue noodle for you.

So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I’m a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald… striking. So, I’m on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga… gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he’s gonna stiff me. And I say, “Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.” So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.

This is the happiest day of my life! I think my testicles are dropping!

Oh, fuck it, I don’t have to talk, either, man! See how you like it. Just total fuckin’ silence. Two can play at that game, smart guy. We’ll just see how you like it. Total silence.

This is your brain on the box… this is MY brain on the box… Does anyone else feel like a fried egg??

Sell crazy someplace else - we’re all stocked up here.

I think my last two comments sum up the Drunkards with great depth and clarity.

Yup, those goofy bastards are about the best thing I got going.