Tag: quote

Mr. Tambourine Man

636203

Hey, Mister Tambourine Man?
Get the hell out of here! Now!
No, really. Quit banging that tambourine and beat it.
You’re driving everyone nuts with that racket.
Oh, and maybe you should take a shower, too. I mean, you reek like landfill.
Then, when you’re clean, how about some music lessons?
Look, a guitar or a piano is a musical instrument. It takes skill to use.
On the other hand, a tambourine takes no skill whatsoever to use. You just smack it around and make noise.
Understand?
Good. Now put that tambourine in the trash and get out of here.

Haircut

636179

The amazing haircut machine made barbers obsolete.
All you had to do was stick your head in a box, and the computer-scanners would figure out the perfect haircut for you.
Five seconds with a series of lasers, and you were done.
Okay, so there were a few glitches in the system’s development, but those prisoners were too dangerous to have their hair cut by any other means.
No matter how well you chain them up or incapacitate them, putting a prisoner in close proximity with someone wielding a sharp object is a very bad idea.
A little off the top?

When the music’s over

636193

When the music’s over, turn out the light.
That’s what Jim Morrison said, but what happens when the music’s still going, but you need to turn out the light and go to bed?
Do you really want to be alone and in the dark with the music?
I end up turning on a light in another room so the music goes in there. Then I turn out the light in here and close the door.
The music tries to creep in under the door.
And so does the light.
I put a towel under the door and go to sleep.

The H Word

636182

“To the man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
Ever hear that?
I have. And I saw something similar to it carved into the bathroom stall: “To the man with a tree and a rope, everything looks like a nigger.”
Disgusting, isn’t it?
Know what’s worse? It’s carved into the bathroom stall of a church.
My church.
I close the Bible and look up from the pulpit.
“Which one of you fuckers wrote that?” I shout.
They stare back. Nobody responds.
Oh well. No sense beating a dead horse.
Potluck Sunday, you know.
Pass the potato salad, please.

I’ve Got Spurs

636186

I’ve got spurs that jingle jangle jingle.
I wish I didn’t. Damn things are a dead giveaway for a cattle rustler.
They used to belong to a rancher, but he tried to catch me rustling his cattle and-
That’s right. I heard the spurs from a mile off.
They looked so nice, couldn’t leave them behind.
I should have sold them off, or dug a hole and buried them.
The Rangers have me pinned in this canyon. It’s night, but I can’t escape.
Bullet in my shoulder, bleeding slow.
I’ll die with my boots on.
And these damn, noisy spurs.

Pancakes

636180

The Oracle of Omaha breakfasts at the same diner I go to every day.
There’s always a crowd there because folks are always wanting to ask him for advice.
Me, I’ve never asked him anything.
Why? Because everybody asks the same things over and over.
And nothing about how he’s doing and such. It’s always folks looking to get rich.
So, one day, he gets fed up and tells everyone: “Buy waffles, sell high.”
Weird, huh?
Problem is, the media got hold of this advice, and the entire economy collapsed overnight.
Me, I didn’t fall for it.
I bought pancakes.

Burning Camel

695274

Some days, I feel like I am burning my camel at both ends.
No, I don’t burn my candle at both ends. I burn my camel at both ends.
Back in college, I had a wooden footstool shaped like a camel.
One day, I got mad and stomped it. The footstool broke in half.
So, we tossed it on the barbecue pit and lit it on fire.
I said “Some days, I feel like I’m burning my candle at both ends.”
Charlie replied “No, you’re burning your camel at both ends.”
Okay, I guess you just had to be there.

Dancing in the Drunk

694184

Australians call it Waltzing Matilda.
Japanese call it Saki Hop Susie.
And the Jews call it Horah With Hierschel.
Let’s face it: you’re drunk, and you want to dance.
Feel the dance inside you. Let it rise through your pores and take control.
Good. Now you’re dancing.
If you feel your stomach gurgling, you can take a break. Just bend over and let it flow.
Until then, dance… dance like you’ve never done it before.
Just do me a favor, okay?
Dance over here in the parking lot. You’re holding up traffic out there in the middle of the road.

Catered

677871

My grandfather was very sick, but he had just undergone some kind of procedure or another, and he said he felt up to calling family.
His last words to me were “Heaven will be catered.”
The next day, I was at school, and I got called into the office.
I don’t remember much after that.
Was I fifteen? Sixteen?
Today, I look in the mirror.
Too fat.
I don’t breathe the same drycleaning chemicals he did that rotted out his organs, but still…
I’ve been cutting down, eating less. And exercise.
Hold my seat, Papa Willie. It’ll be a while.

Shooter

674422

Joe’s always cracking jokes.
He can’t even go to the bathroom without making a pun.
His favorite is “I’m going to make a deposit at the Bank of American Standard.”
He also bombs Porcelain Harbor a lot.
I told him I was sick of his puns, so he said he was going to shoot himself.
The bathroom door slammed before I could say anything.
We called the police, they sent negotiators, and to make a long story short, he walks out of the bathroom, flipping through his digital camera’s stored images.
“Chip’s full,” he said. “Can I borrow your printer?”