a few quotes from The Song Between Her Legs (part 3 of 5)
(from The Song Between Her Legs)
When someone asks you to pick a number between 1 and 10, don’t pick 1. Or 10. Do I even have to explain it? Nobody wants you picking 1 or 10. You’re going to end up making people ask you to pick a number between 2 and 9. Is that what you want?
The thing about polarizing writers is that we’re always looking to increase the size of our pole.
I’d like to open a restaurant in Hollywood called Gruel. All the hipsters would assume the name is ironic but I would serve nothing but cornmeal boiled in water. It would no doubt be a wild success. “Would you like that runny or extra runny Mr. De Niro?”
The problem some kids have with standing up to a bully is the part where they pin them to ground and repeatedly punch them in the face in front of all their friends.
While taking candy from a baby might appear easy, there are emotional tolls to consider.
I refuse to feel bad that my frozen dinner had chocolate pudding. If everyone was so damn worried about getting chicken fingers, leaving me with fish sticks, they sure as hell can choke down their corn without complaint.
I just had the feeling that it was going to be one of those moments where somebody would snarl at me “You’re better than that” and I would whimper “No. I’m really not” before slinking out.
I don’t completely trust any language where the word “manhandle” doesn’t have something to do with masturbation.
St. Patty’s Day research completed: How many green beers does it take to begin hearing voices in the bagpipes? Nine.
I refuse to stay at a La Quinta until they change their name to The Fifth. This is ‘Merica, damn it.
Perhaps what nobody likes to admit to themselves is that they can leave any time they want. If they’re here, wherever here might be, they are here because they choose to be.
It’s gotten to the point where we can only hear truth from comedians. Politicians and businessmen are incapable of it. Comedians don’t even have to be funny anymore, we’ll pay them to stand on a stage and yell common sense at us. How fucked are we?
I think the plan to just ignore the rampant violence and crime in the inner cities in the hopes that it will somehow just go away is going to work out splendidly for everybody.
Whenever someone says “I like to consider myself an intelligent person,” what they really mean is that they like to consider themselves a more intelligent person than they are. Having said that, I just watched the India vs. Sri Lanka cricket match for two hours and, while I like to consider myself an intelligent person, I could not figure out how the game of cricket is played.
Every time I watch Alien I spend the whole movie marveling at how small Sigourney Weaver’s mouth is. Not that she would necessarily be willing but I don’t think I could get it all in.
Mark my words, one day that Cocoa Puffs bird is going to kill somebody.
I remember this girl. I thought she was the one… until the fateful day I snooped in her medicine cabinet and found a packet of Preparation H Medicated Wipes. When I think how close I came to asking her to be Mrs. Manion… really dodged a bullet there.
How can you trust a language where the word “umlaut” doesn’t have an umlaut?
You know the music that plays in the background of movies that tells you if things are great or if they are about to get scary? It’s there in real life too. You just have to really listen.
In the interest of full disclosure, the ruler I have tattooed on my inner thigh is not entirely accurate… but it helps sell the product.
Tiny farts can be more socially crippling than large ones. I’d rather have somebody think I farted than think that’s how I smell.
Fact: I am two pounds heavier when I have an erection.
Sitting at the park last night, I was watching an overweight guy jogging when he suddenly let loose with the loudest and most glorious fart I’d ever heard. Then, to my left, I saw a man dragging his golf clubs across a patch of pavement and realized that was where the sound came from. I was so disappointed. True story.
I’m not saying that every woman would go lesbian if they knew what men were really thinking. I’m just saying that they might give the brochure a longer look.
The other day I was walking when I heard a familiar voice, that I couldn’t quite place, say “Hey, I spy a Lance Manion,” to which I replied “Shhhh, if you’re quiet you can watch him in his natural environment.” I then pecked at the ground and began to gather twigs. An hour later I had finished a serviceable nest. Turning to finally see the owner of the familiar yet unknown voice I found that he was no longer there. How rude.
Pausing a TV show because someone in the room is talking is like asking them to be quiet. Pausing and then staring at the ceiling is like saying “shut the fuck up.”
Not saying “Yay!” out loud when something good happens is missing an opportunity. Even the smallest things. Just because other people are too inhibited to verbalize it doesn’t mean you have to be. Throw your hands in the air if you want. If you want to be happy, be happy.
An interesting dilemma is walking by a retarded man fishing in a pond that you know unequivocally has no fish.
I think if you made traffic lights take even 30 seconds longer to change, that most major cities would burn. That’s how fragile I think our civilization is.
I was asked to write a children’s story so I did. It was titled Gary The Dragon With Erectile Dysfunction.
Gentlemen, when at the bar and witnessing a girl about to sit down be careful of how you say “May I push in your stool?” If you don’t lift your eyebrow just so she might miss your meaning.
If you’re going to stage a protest, make sure your message is clear. For example, last summer all of the squirrels in our local woods disappeared. Just packed up and left. Not one squirrel was seen all summer. This spring they’re back. Not sure what their point was. Fucking squirrels don’t know dick about protesting.
In fairness to the Pope’s decision to canonize John Paul II, Catholicism did need a Patron Saint of Covering Up Rampant Pedophilia In The Church.
I sat at the bar listening to her and putting her words in my pan and swirling them around like some horny 49er in the hopes of spotting gold.
I realize saying that I don’t enjoy burlesque as much as I do strippers might be as fine a line as saying I like hookers more than escorts, but there it is.