the-absolute-funniest-posts:

We could have had it all.

My lovely followers, please follow this blog immediately!



(via avoconvos)


thecreepbitch:

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

thecreepbitch:

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

(via keekeepeenotpoo)


Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

-Truman Show


Roflmao!!


I thought I was the only one. I’m glad I’m not alone. Lmao!

I thought I was the only one. I’m glad I’m not alone. Lmao!

(via hookersareniceladies)


Say what you will, I like “Little Nicky”. And I like the soundtrack even more. Except I don’t know where mine is and I heard a song on WRRV that reminded I miss that cd.


Yeah, this pretty much reflects my sentiments on congress too. AHAHAHA!

(via kenobi-wan-obi)


Excerpt from V for Vendetta

V: I can assure you I mean you no harm.

Evey Hammond: Who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what I am is a man in a mask.

Evey Hammond: Well I can see that.

V: Of course you can. I’m not questioning your powers of observation I’m merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.

Evey Hammond: Oh. Right.

V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace sobriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona.

V: Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.

V: The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.

V: Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

Evey Hammond: Are you like a crazy person?

V: I am quite sure they will say so. But to whom, might I ask, am I speaking with?

Evey Hammond: I’m Evey.

V: Evey? E-V. Of course you are.

Evey Hammond: What does that mean?

V: It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don’t believe in coincidences.


Excerpt from Kill Bill

Bill: As you know, l’m quite keen on comic books. Especially the ones about superheroes. I find the whole mythology surrounding superheroes fascinating. Take my favorite superhero, Superman. Not a great comic book. Not particularly well-drawn. But the mythology… The mythology is not only great, it’s unique.

The Bride: [who still has a needle in her leg] How long does this shit take to go into effect?

Bill: About two minutes, just long enough for me to finish my point. Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there’s the superhero and there’s the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he’s Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn’t become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he’s Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red “S”, that’s the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him. Those are his clothes. What Kent wears - the glasses, the business suit - that’s the costume. That’s the costume Superman wears to blend in with us. Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent. He’s weak… he’s unsure of himself… he’s a coward. Clark Kent is Superman’s critique on the whole human race. Sorta like Beatrix Kiddo and Mrs. Tommy Plimpton.

The Bride: Ah so the point emerges.

Bill: You would’ve worn the costume of Arlene Plimpton. But you were born Beatrix Kiddo. And every morning when you woke up, you’d still be Beatrix Kiddo. Oh, you can take the needle out.

The Bride: [does so] Are you calling me a superhero?

Bill: I’m calling you a killer. A natural born killer. You always have been, and you always will be. Moving to El Paso, working in a used record store, goin’ to the movies with Tommy, clipping coupons. That’s you, trying to disguise yourself as a worker bee That’s you tryin’ to blend in with the hive. But you’re not a worker bee. You’re a renegade killer bee. And no matter how much beer you drank or barbecue you ate or how fat your ass got, nothing in the world would ever change that.