Mordecai: "Where did he go?" Rigby: "Uhhh..." Mordecai: "Did you just send Skips to the moon?!" Rigby: "Isn't that what you said...?" Mordecai: "No, room! I sent him to his room, not the moon, you idiot! Dude, wish him back." Rigby: "But it doesn't work that way!" Mordecai: "What do you mean?" Rigby: "I can't see him, can I?!" Mordecai: "Ugh. Then we have to go get him." Rigby: "But he's gonna be pissed!" Mordecai: "Better than him being dead!"
Moral of the story: If people think you're strange, FART ON THEM!
I think it's plain to see that Blizzard has achieved Legendary status.
Post by Devo DrakeFox on Jul 26, 2012 21:22:50 GMT
Some epic lines from that most awesome of RTS games, C&C: Red Alert 2.
Romanov: Da, Premier Romanov here. Dugan: What's going on over there, Alex? Romanov: Why, Mr. President, whatever do you mean? Dugan: Alex, I've just... *is handed a report* ...You're throwing everything you've got at us, Alex. We're supposed to be allies, you maniac! I'm the one who put you into office! Romanov: Now listen very carefully: I am not your pet, Mr. President! We Romanovs have our legacy to consider! Dugan: I don't give a wooden nickel about your legacy! You call them off! ...You know we'll retaliate. Romanov: Oh, don't be so sure, Mr. President... *slams phone down*
Romanov: Is it done, Yuri? Yuri: No, Comrade Premier... It has only begun.
Tanya: Sir! General Vladimir just hit Colorado Springs! Carville: Well why'd you wait till now to contact us? We can't Vladimir take that air base! Tanya: With all due respect, sir, we've been a little busy. Carville: Commander, see if you can dig Tanya out of the hole she's dug for herself, I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Tanya: Now wait just a-! *cut off* Carville: We seem to have lost Tanya's transmission... ;D
Yuri: The human brain is a Pandora's Box of electrical charges that we can only begin to understand. Most brains are but receivers, however, some are advanced, sending and receiving charges as they choose. This is my Psychic Beacon. With it, we can send any message we want. We will construct this device everywhere. In the end, the Americans will be ours: mind, body, and if you like, soul.
"Kirov reporting." "Bombardiers to your stations." - Kirov Airship
"We will bury them!" - Soviet Rhino Tank
"Ivan's not home." "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" - Crazy Ivan
"Mercury rising." "Scorched earth!" "It will be a silent spring." - Iraqi Desolator
"The apocalypse has begun." - Soviet Apocalypse Tank
Professor: "Girls! Girls! I read the news today. Oh boy..." Blossom: "'Beat-Alls crash Mr Kite's benefit. Powerpuffs nowhere in sight.' So what?!" Professor: "Oh girls.... Yesterday all our troubles seemed so far away. Now it seems as though they're here to stay. Sitting here 8 days a week, everyone seems to think you're lazy. I don't mind, I think they're crazy. But you used to be running everywhere at such a speed. Now you think there's no need..." Buttercup: "There isn't!" Bubbles: "If we can't stop the Beat-Alls..." Blossom: "We're never saving the day again." Professor: "Oh, you can't do that. What will Townsville do when they look for the girls with the sun in their eyes and they're gone?" Blossom: "Well, what can we do?" Professor: "Well first you have to realise the Beat-Alls are just a rock band." Girls: "Huh?!" Professor: "Fuzzy, he does that.... rock thing, you know. But that's not important. But what IS important is THIS: Mojo Jojo was a man who thought he was a loner, but he knew it couldn't last. He's just getting by with a little help from his friends." Buttercup: "Are you saying we should try and break up the Beat-Alls?" Bubbles: "Is that possible?" Professor: "Sure, I'm certain that it happens all the time." Girls: "But how?" Professor: "Listen, want to know a secret?" *whispers* Narrator: "Sounds like the Professor has some magical mystery tricks up his sleeve!"
This is for the school-yard wimps, for the childhood bullies who tormented them.
This is for the former prom queen, this is for the milk-crate ball players.
This is for the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired, elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters. Shake the dust.
This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them.
For the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns.
For the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children.
For the nighttime schoolers and the midnight bike riders who are trying to fly. Shake the dust.
This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half-English and half-god. Shake the dust.
For the boys with the beautiful, beautiful sisters. Shake the dust.
For the girls with the brothers who are going crazy.
For those gym class wall flowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers.
For the kid who's always late to class because he forgets the combination to his lockers.
For the girl who loves somebody else. Shake the dust.
This is for the hard men who want to love but know that it won't come.
The ones the amendments do not stand up for, for the ones who are forgotten.
For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to and then are never spoken to. Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.
Do not let one moment go by that doesn't remind you that your heart beats 100,000 times a day and that there are enough gallons of blood to make everyone of you oceans.
Do not settle for letting these waves settle and the dust to collect in your veins.
This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling.
For the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacations alone.
For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers' singing lips and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner's shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.
This is for the tired and for the dreamers and for those families who'll never be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners and sons like Wally and the Beaver.
This is for the bigots, for the sexists, for the killers.
This is for the big house, jail-sentenced cats becoming redeemers and for the springtime that somehow seems shows up after every single winter.
This? This is for you. This is for you.
Make sure that by the time fisherman returns you are gone.
Because just like the days, I burn at both ends and every time I write, every time I open my eyes I am cutting out a part of myself just to give them to you.
So shake the dust and take me with you when you do for none of this has ever been for me.
All that pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls, it pushes for you.
So grab this world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again for this is yours.
Make my words worth something, make this more than just another poem that I write, more than just another poem like just another night that sits heavy above us all.
Walk into it, breathe it in, let it crash through the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust.
So when the world knocks on your front door, clutch the knob tightly and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands in front of you, fingertips trembling though they may be.
Fool me once: I'm mad. Fool me twice: how could you? Fool me three times: you're officially "that guy", okay, you know- you know the one. You go to the bar an' he's like: "this suit, it's ehh... officially it's a Giorgio Armani, actually my dad knows him-" [censored] YOU! I AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN'T HAVIN' THAT [censored]
Dr. Zin: Robot dog. Meddlin' kids. Man in bird suit. You have my thanks. I have spent so many years pursuing my evil plan of global domination, I sometimes forget the beauty of a simple act of selfless kindness. *puts on jetpack* It's a pity you must all now be destroyed as this island explodes with the fury of a thousand suns! *cackles maniacally*
Post by Devo DrakeFox on Apr 17, 2013 13:28:11 GMT
Some quotes from Gravity Falls.
Woman: "Oh I'm sorry I was looking for the mailman." Dipper: "Oh what? Are you saying I'm NOT a male man? Is that what you're trying to say? I'm not male. I'm not a man? Is that...is that what you're getting at??" Woman: "Are you crying??"
Quentin Trembley: "Well we didn't fit through the hole...Let's rebuild the box and try again!"
Grunkle Stan: That sounds like something a responsible parent wouldn't want you to do... Good thing I'm an uncle!
Grunkle Stan: "Now who wants to put on blindfolds and get into my car?"
Stan: For tonight's final illusion, we have the incredible 'Sack of Mystery'. When you put your money in it, it mysteriously disappears! Various Tourists: Oh yeah! That makes perfect sense! That was totally worth the drive!
Bud: Since you're here, you simply must come in for some coffee! Stan: But I-I- Bud: It's imported! All the way from Columbia! Stan: Wow, I went to jail there once!
Guy: But these wax figures come at a terrible price... Stan: -looks at price tag- Twenty dollars!? Meh, I'll just take 'em when you're not looking. Guy: What? Stan: I said I was gonna rob you.
Christmas, Kwanza, whatever you call it — I [censored] hate it. But winter… that’s different. I love winter. Here’s why.
My grandparents dreaded winter. Back when they were kids, winter always meant bad things. Meant another war. Meant foodlines, and power outages, and people their age dying alone in the cold. But when I was a kid, I looked forward to it. And not just because I like to see old people suffering. Because winter meant a new season’s maker codes, and it meant clean snow that you could eat straight out of the air and…
I mean, Christmas, that wasn't a big deal. I’d just get something else made out of lizards by Mom. But WINTER. Winter meant change. Every new winter, things got a bit better.
You people don’t remember what life used to be like. No one in the city knows what [censored] year it is. Do you remember how people used to line up for bread? Remember when we couldn't get anything to grow across half this country? Remember this: “Email burns oil and [censored]s filth into your air”?
‘Course you [censored] don’t.
And you don’t care, either, do you? Because odds are you’re drinking Icelandic spring water and eating Cantonese duck with fresh bean sprouts out of your maker. Boiling and irradiating faucet water to get the [censored] out of it, choking on thin cheap government-issue myco-protein cakes — means nothing to you.
I remember when they switched Mercury on; remember Mom holding me in front of the TV and saying “Remember this. This is History.”
How many of you even think of the fact that all our energy comes from a planet covered in solar panels? How many of you know that snow used to burn?
Winter by winter, that changed.
The world got better.
And when the world still wasn’t good enough, when things were still [censored]ed, when I got sick of the taste and texture of lizard food and lizard playthings and lizard underpants... there was always next winter to look forward to.
And God knows I’m hoping this winter does the trick.
I keep watching the news to see if half the city’s been accidentally sterilized in the middle of the night. Midnight TV vigils, just in case the President suffers a fatal aircraft toilet accident that chucks his intestines over the city like streamers at a ticker-tape parade…
…that takes me back, you know, we were so poor on the Quayside that on New Year’s Eve they had to put on fireworks shows using intestines. Luckily there were a lot of people from New Zealand around. But in the end we used them all up. I remember Lefty Ingpen tried for a similar effect by stuffing puppies in a chipping machine.
But anyway. You’re probably wondering what the point of all this ugly bull[censored] rambling bull[censored] is.
The future is inherently a good thing. And we move into it one winter at a time. Things get better one winter at a time.
So if you’re going to celebrate something then have a drink on this:
The world is generally and on balance, a better place to live this year than it was last year.