Tuesday, July 26, 2005

The next "Kool-Aid Man" --

"I'm a bachelor now, I'm a bachelor guy. Yep. Thank you so much for applauding my loneliness. You know when you're a bachelor when it gets to this point: When you've got one lightbulb left and you just keep taking it out and bringing it to the room you need it in. That's how sad and lonely you are; you won't even by bulbs."

"The guy gets tagged. OK. The greatest part of the story: he's in the air, flipping around, this is how he lands on the other side of the car. He comes down perfectly on his feet, and then he jumps in the air, and then he starts walking around, embarrassed. He's trying to play it off like he just didn't just get hit by a car. People around him are like, Oh my God! Oh my God! Are you alright? Are you OK? He's like, 'I'm fine. I'm fine, seriously. I'm fine. I'm a little bit hungry, but ah other then that, I'm fine.' No, you should really sit down, you're bleeding from the ears. 'I know. I know that. I do that. Every couple a weeks I empty the blood out of my own head, its tradition in my family. Has anyone seen my shoes? I kicked them off in a fit of joy. I love getting struck by vehicles, and sometimes I'll kick my shoes off in a fit of joy. I'm fine. I'm just going to go over here and puke shards of my own pelvis into this bush.'"

"It's that same vibe you get with any auto mechanic you've ever dealt with. Even though you're listening and nodding, in you're head you're like, this guy is fucking me big time. You just believe whatever they say. They're like, 'Yeah, we had to replace the roof on your car, it was peeling back. It resented the rest of your car, so we replaced that. Also, there was a tiny Unicorn in you're exhaust, and it was jumping and poking holes in your exhaust. And he was shitting in your filters as well. So we had to get that out of there.' Wow, thank you very much. I did not know that there was a tiny mythological animal jumping around in there, that's very dangerous. Shitting in filters, no way! Especially with a road trip coming up, that's very dangerous. Shitting in filters; that little son of a B. Wow. Wow! How much is that gonna ... seven thousand. I was going to suggest, I'd like to pay seven thousandish. I'd love to pay for that. Thank you for not fucking me big time."

"That's how they suck you up: by a beam of light. They suck you up by your chest, and that's not necessary. Throw a rope ladder down; I'll climb up. I'm interested, I'm here for you. Don't suck me up by my chest, that hurts. You're a hovering craft, why wouldn't I come in and poke around for a minute?"

"I don't care if you laughed at that or not. Next time you hear that shit you're gonna be like, 'Hahaha, that Dane Cook is a silly bitch. He got me.'"