: I don't think you realize whom you are talking to. Airline Rep
: Why sure. I'm talking to Bill McNeal of WNYX. Bill
: Wow! I see my reputation precedes me. Dave
: No, it doesn't. He's just reading your name tag
from the convention.
: I'm Delmy Polanco. I'm the most important UFO blogger in the world. Booth
: "Important blogger." Talk about an oxymoron.
Rich men don't go to jail. Horatio Caine: You're not rich
, Gordon. (arrests him)
You're right! With my looks and my talent, and you fulfilling the requirement of 3 or more people, we'd be unbeatable!
: What did you say? Are you trying to start a fight with me?! The name is Marco! Everybody who is anybody knows who I am! Vyse:
Hah... for such a short kid, you sure know how to talk big!
Sorry, boy, but we don't have time to play with little kids right now. Marco:
What did you say?! I'll remember this! Fools!
(motivational speaker): I'm between mansions
, buster. From helping people. Do you know how good how it feels to be me? Do you have any idea? Any idea at all how great it feels to wake up and realize you're a rich and talented and important person and in a waterbed with mirrors on the ceiling and more girls than you can imagine?
And every time I step outside the door, I can choose which car to drive—if
I choose to drive! I have five chauffeurs! Maurice Chavez
(host): Look, I hate to burst your bubble here, but I know you live in a very small apartment overlooking the gas works. You ain't a big shot. You ain't even a medium shot. You're an asshole.
I am the cheese! I am the best character on the show! I am better than both the salami and bologna combined!
Somewhere down there is this Darkwing Duck. I've watched him. I know his weakness. His posing, his flamboyance, the mask and cape! Ha, ha! That hat! It all indicates an ego the size of a small planet!
I know I'm special. This isn't news to me.
And now I can catch up on my beauty sleep, not that I need any.
Dan, land the helicopter and let the minor celebrity go! Helicopter Hal: Minor
You really didn't know, did you?
He looks like a goof. Because he is
a goof. Because he walks out there like he's fucking King Kong to the Road Warrior
music, and he thinks he's over. His triumphant return, like he's Lou Gehrig in the fucking stadium! And everyone goes, 'Who's this fucking buggy whip-armed motherfucker?' ... And he's out there beating up Ric Flair
with a baseball bat! Because he finally got to be a star.
Now he doesn't have to subsist on the internet marks
fuckin' clapping for him. He can have the fucking roar of their (dwindling) crowds, going, "ooh, that's uhh—yeah, that Russo guy.' He's a star now! He beats the wrestlers!
had a vision for designer-centric development—noble in itself
—but queered by an ideal of a rock star developer-image, publicly blowing money on penthouse studios and flamboyant lifestyles
But a rock star is obliged only to write some tunes, sweat on some people, and coke themselves off their balls. Developing a game, it turns out, is actually quite hard
...At this point, the universe takes two paths, one in which Romero spearheads a bold, artistic movement in game design as a misunderstood genius
, burdened with the egotism that often strikes the auteur, or Romero is forever lambasted as a boob
so massive that even the most determined baby would struggle to get its gob around it.
And which universe we ended up with hinged on one thing: Daikatana
not being a pile of execrable garbage.
Better luck next time, universe!
In 2011 following his release from WWE
, Tarver would claim that [Cena
legitimately tried to injure him with a chair because Cena was "jealous of [Tarver's] potential". Yes, he believed that ten time World Champion John Cena was jealous of a guy in his first year of WWE. He then became a Christian rapper.
One of my favorites comes from an article I wrote that had nothing to do at all with Jennifer Aniston
, where someone with the username 'Aniston is gettin some!' wrote: 'Hey as anyone else read that this guy is filling up Jennifer regularly like a hot water bottle? If so good for him. If so good for her (she needs some loosening up from the backside!).' While it was good to finally answer the question of which background actor's penis would be the best cure for Friends
star Jennifer Aniston's constipation, I was starting to see a pattern. Sure enough, all of these comments came from the same IP address... A Google search revealed that someone was going around the Internet and informing everyone that Neil Fifer was going to be the next Captain America
and he was also sleeping with Angelina Jolie
and Jennifer Aniston. It was so obvious to everyone who this was and what he was doing that no other commenter ever bothered to ask, 'Who the hell is Neil Fifer and why are you doing this, Neil Fifer?' The closest he ever came to getting a response was when he made another fake name to agree with the first that Angelina Jolie was very lucky to have such a handsome yet mysterious dick inside her.
I really don’t know how this kind of press mentality still exists. That Palmer sure was brave to try to walk off a torn ACL, but you know what makes him even braver? THE FACT THAT HE WAS WILLING TO FACE MY POISON PEN!
It doesn’t get must more Lupica than that. You’re not a real man until you explain your injury to the dude with the notepad who was hogging all the free Aquafina five minutes before the conference started.
Bobo has a very important problem he wants to share, one deathly important to humanity at large and a huge swath of ill-done and oft-oppressed people. Yes, our brave narcissist is stretching himself for once, showing great empathy for what is truly a national tragedy. One whose pain is all but ignored by even the most fierce social justice paladin. You may wonder what group has so tragically slipped through the cracks of even the most conscious parts of our society? Well…
It’s right wing think tank hacks.
...But luckily Bobo, dear Bobo, is able to lead us out of the chaos and terror with calmness and dign— Oh, Bob damn, I can’t keep a straight face any longer, ROLL THE FAILPOCALYPSE!
—Sadly, No! rebuts
Our most knowledgeable beat writer, Omar Kelly, alternates between writing self-righteous bible verses
and tweeting out sneering insults at his own fans. Case-in-point:
Most of you have absolutely no idea what 'scheme fit' means. Throwing my pearls to swine too often around here.
The sad thing is, I didn't even know he had written that today before starting this email. It took me a grand total of 4 seconds to find proof of Omar Kelly's dickishness.
In late 2011, Jackson claimed to have been privy to a six-hour long 'briefing' 'across the street from the Capitol' where solid evidence of a Muslim Brotherhood plan to take over America was revealed to her in her capacity as member of the Department of Homeland Security's Washed-Up Comediennes
Office...She's gone on record as being a sympathetic party to Todd Akin's sentiments concerning rape, with mathematically incoherent gibbering to match. Just what he needs in an election year
Then of course there's the sub-theme of every [Armond] White review, which is that every other critic is a moral degenerate and an aesthetic cretin.
Brannon Braga stated categorically that he didn’t like reminders of arc threads spoiling what were otherwise fine episodes.
To quote Quark
from The Circle: ‘Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Goodbye.
’ This guy really doesn’t have a clue... After a Michael Piller inspired episode of the series that saw the potential of this show realised in its entirety, they follow that up with Brannon Braga’s unique approach almost as if to give us the chance to make the comparison
. This show is in trouble
. Its not just the terrible science, appalling characterisation, embarrassing plot twists, dreadful make up and offensive ending that sticks in the throat, what really hurts is that Braga actually thought he could get away with this sort of thing unscathed and bitch about the reaction in hindsight
Talkative, self-important nerdy men (usually age 30 and up) who, through an inability to properly decode social cues, mistake others' strained tolerance of their blather for evidence of their own charm.
Our 'gaming journalists' are all egotistical fat nerds and scruffy frat boys who couldn’t care less about asking deep questions about hidden messages. When they talk to Kojima
, they ask about whether there’s going to be multiplayer in the next game so that they can shoot all their friends in the head and be more like Halo
because Halo was so cool and Metal Gear
is lame for not having multiplayer! In other words, they are childlike imbeciles, excited every day just to be able to play videogames and write bullshit for money. And the more they get paid to do nothing, the more entitled and obnoxious they become; bullying developers and artists around with their biased reviews and knee-jerk blog posts, imagining themselves to be the 'true voice' of the world’s most coveted demographic.
The central belief of every moron is that he is the victim of a mysterious conspiracy
against his common rights and true deserts.
One of the most powerful of all our passions is the desire to be admired and respected.
Oh, all those ridiculous people with zero talent who spend their lives making sure everyone knows their name. Those stupid, stupid people.
You know, that's not so good, a young punk song writer from the Brill Building, with a few pop numbers to his credit, saying things like that about Rodgers and Hammerstein
. That's like making jokes about the King and Queen when you are playing Toronto.
— Say, Darling by Richard Bissell
The verb to disrespect is one of the most obnoxious and insidious innovations in our language in years, because it really means 'to fail to pay me the impossibly high requirement of respect I demand.'