Archive for the ‘Dude’ Category

Lord.

February 23, 2010

You can imagine where it goes from here.

He fixes the cable?

Don’t be fatuous, Jeffrey.

It’s like Lenin said

January 28, 2010

You look for the person who will benefit, and, uh —

I am the walrus.

Uh, uh —

I am the walrus.

You know what I’m trying to say.

I am the walrus.

That fucking bitch!

Yeah!

I am the walrus.

Shut the fuck up, Donny!  V.I. Lenin!  Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov!

What the fuck is he talking about, Dude?

Blow on them

June 24, 2008

Huh?

Go ahead.  Blow.

You want me to blow on your, uh, toes?

Uh huh.  I can’t blow that far.

What makes a man, Mr. Lebowski?

June 14, 2008

Dude.

Huh?

Uh, I don’t know, sir.

Is it being prepared to do the right thing, whatever the cost?  Isn’t that what makes a man?

Sure, that and a pair of testicles.

Dude

October 5, 2007

Who eez this?

Dude, the bag man, man.  Where do you want us to go?

Us?

. . . Shit!

You want a toe?

September 29, 2007

I can get you a toe, believe me.  There are ways, Dude, you don’t even wanna know.

Yeah, but Walter —

Hell, I can get you a toe by three o’clock this afternoon, with nail polish.  Fuckin’ amateurs.

What’s Shabbos?

September 18, 2007

Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest.  That means I don’t work, I don’t drive a car, I don’t fucking ride in a car, I don’t pick up the phone, I don’t turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don’t fucking roll.  Shomer Shabbos!

Walter —

Shomer fucking Shabbos.

These are Mr. Lebowski’s children, so to speak

September 15, 2007

Different mothers, I guess?

What?  No.

Racially, he’s pretty cool?

My wife’s a pain in the ass,

September 10, 2007

She’s always bustin’ my friggin’ agates.  My daughter’s married to a real loser bastard.  I got a rash on my ass so big, I can’t even sit down.  But you know me.  I can’t complain.

Fuckin’ A, man.  I got a rash, man.

What do you do for recreation?

September 3, 2007

Oh, the usual.  I bowl.  Drive around.  The occasional acid flashback.

Look, just stay away from my fucking lady friend

August 30, 2007

Hey, I’m not messing with your special lady.

She’s not my special lady, she’s my fucking lady friend.  I’m just helping her conceive, man.

Friends like these, huh, Gary?

August 27, 2007

That’s right, Dude.

You brought a fucking Pomeranian bowling?

August 26, 2007

I didn’t bring it bowling. I didn’t rent it shoes. I’m not buying it a fucking beer. He’s not taking your fucking turn, Dude.

Hey

August 21, 2007

at least I’m housebroken.

We’re scattering the fucking ashes

August 20, 2007

Walter —

JUST BECAUSE WE’RE BEREAVED DOESN’T MEAN WE’RE SAPS!

Sir, please lower your voice.

Hey man, don’t you have something else we could put him in?

This is our most modestly priced receptacle.

GODDAMMIT!  Is there a Ralph’s around here?

Uli?

August 19, 2007

Uli Kunkel?  Her co-star in the beaver picture?

Beaver?  Uh, you mean vagina?  I mean, you know the guy?

Phone’s ringing, Dude

August 16, 2007

Thank you, Donny.

Does the female form make you uncomfortable, Mr. Lebowski?

August 15, 2007

Oh, is that what this is a picture of?

In a sense, yes.  My art has been commended as being strongly vaginal, which bothers some men.  The word itself makes some men uncomfortable.  Vagina.

Oh yeah?

Yes, they don’t like hearing it and find it difficult to say, whereas without batting an eye a man will talk about his “dick,” or his “rod,” or his “johnson.”

Johnson?

Did I urinate on your rug?

August 12, 2007

You mean, did you personally come and pee on my ..

Hello!  Do you speak English?  Parla-usted Inglese?  I’ll say it again.  Did I urinate on your rug?

No, like I said … Woo … peed on the rug.

Oh boy

August 11, 2007

How you gonna keep ’em down on the farm once they’ve seen Karl Hungus.