I get the Reese's candy bar, If you read it, there's an apostrophe. The candy bar is his. I didn't know that. Next time your eating a Reese's and some guy named Reese comes up to you and says let me have that. You better give it to him. I'm sorry Reece, I didn't think I would ever run into you.
|
What is it about genus arboretum that socks us in the figurative solar plexus We see a logging truck go cruising down the road, stacked with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we feel like we lost a brother. Next thing you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping money down on the bar. Wood. We're under a roof. Wood. We're walking the floors. Wood. Grabbing a pool cue. That's wood. Our friends in the forest carry a set of luggage from the mythical baggage carousel. Tree of life, tree of knowledge, family tree, Buddha's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the beginning. Genesis 322. Adam and Eve. They're kicking back in the garden of Eden and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why is that Lest they should also take of the tree of life, eat and live forever. A definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself, go out and plant a wet one on a tree.
|
He always looked forward to the evening drives through the centre of Shanghai, this electric and lurid city, more exciting than any other in the world. As they reached the Bubbling Well Road he pressed his face to the windshield and gazed at the pavements lined with night-clubs and gambling dens, crowded with bar-girls and gangsters and rich beggars with their bodyguards. Crowds of gamblers pushed their way into the jai alai stadiums, blocking the traffic in the Bubbling Well Road. An armoured police van with two Thompson guns mounted in a steel turret above the driver swung in front of the Packard and cleared the pavement. A party of young Chinese women in sequinned dresses tripped over a child's coffin decked with paper flowers. Arms linked together, they lurched against the radiator grille of the Packard and swayed past Jim's window, slapping the windshield with their small hands and screaming obscenities. Nearby, along the windows of the Sun Sun department store in the Nanking Road, a party of young European jews were fighting in and out of the strolling crowds with a gang of older German boys in the swastika armbands of the Graf Zeppelin Club. Chased by the police sirens, they ran through the entrance of the Cathay Theatre, the world's largest cinema, where a crowd of Chinese shopgirls and typists, beggars and pickpockets spilled in the street to watch people arriving for the evening performance. As they stepped from their limousines the women steered their long skirts through the honour guard of fifty hunchbacks in mediaeval costume. Three months earlier, when his parents had taken Jim to the premiere of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, there had been two hundred hunchbacks, recruited by the management of the theatre from every back alley in Shanghai. As always, the spectacle outside the theatre for exceeded anything shown on its screen.
|
Strength is the capacity to break a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands -- and then eat just one of the pieces.
|
Let wickedness escape as it may at the bar, it never fails of doing justice upon itself; for every guilty person is his own hangman.
|
We live amid falling taboos. In our crowded little hour of history we have seen how the prejudice of religion no longer can bar the way to the...
|
A man comes into a bar, obviously nervous and obviously in a hurry, walks over to the counter, picks up an empty glass and starts eating it. When he is finished he goes over to the wall, walks up the wall, walks along the ceiling, walks down the other wall and disappears out the door. The barkeeper can't believe his eyes. What the hell, he says, is going on here? A man who has been sitting on a bar stool and seen the whole thing, says with a shrug of his shoulders, Don't worry, I know that guy. It's always the same thing with him -- comes and goes without even saying hello. There are millions of people who are living like this. Miracles are happening all around but they can't see anything, they are blind with their knowledge. Drop your knowledge. Knowledge is worthless; wonder is precious. Regain the wonder that you had when you were a child -- and the kingdom of God belongs only to those who are able to become children again.
|
Skiing consists of wearing 3,000 worth of clothes and equipment and driving 200 miles in the snow in order to stand around at a bar and drink.
|
You know an odd feeling? Sitting on the toilet eating a chocolate candy bar
|
Would you convey my compliments to the purist who reads your proofs and tell him or her that I write in a sort of broken-down patois which is something like the way a Swiss waiter talks, and that when I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will stay split, and when I interrupt the velvety smoothness of my more or less literate syntax with a few sudden words of bar-room vernacular, that is done with the eyes wide open and the mind relaxed but attentive.
|
If, for instance, they have heard something from the postman, they attribute it to a semi-official statement; if they have fallen into conversation with a stranger at a bar, they can conscientiously describe him as a source that has hitherto proved unimpeachable. It is only when the journalist is reporting a whim of his own, and one to which he attaches minor importance, that he defines it as the opinion of well-informed circles.
|
'A string walked into a bar, hopped on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Disappointed, the string hopped down from the stool and went to the next bar. He hopped on the barstool and said, again, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' The string continued down the row of bars in this fashion. At every bar, he hopped on the barstool and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender at every bar in turn said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' Finally he got to the last bar in the area. He was tired, he was sweaty, all he wanted was a beer. He trudged inside, climbed on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' This bartender, too, said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Tired and angry, the string walked outside to think. He was a hard-working string. He deserved a beer. Finally, he came up with an idea. He had a passerby tie him up into a bow and frazzle his ends. Then he went back into the bar, and climbed up on the barstool. 'Bartender, gimme a beer!' he said loudly. The bartender looked him over critically, and finally yelled, 'Hey, aren't you that string that was in here a few minutes ago?' The string replied coolly, 'Nope, I'm a frayed knot.''
|
'A string walked into a bar, hopped on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Disappointed, the string hopped down from the stool and went to the next bar. He hopped on the barstool and said, again, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' The string continued down the row of bars in this fashion. At every bar, he hopped on the barstool and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' The bartender at every bar in turn said, 'I'm sorry sir, we don't serve strings here.' Finally he got to the last bar in the area. He was tired, he was sweaty, all he wanted was a beer. He trudged inside, climbed on the barstool, and said, 'Bartender, gimme a beer.' This bartender, too, said, 'I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve strings here.' Tired and angry, the string walked outside to think. He was a hard-working string. He deserved a beer. Finally, he came up with an idea. He had a passerby tie him up into a bow and frazzle his ends. Then he went back into the bar, and climbed up on the barstool. 'Bartender, gimme a beer!' he said loudly. The bartender looked him over critically, and finally yelled, 'Hey, aren't you that string that was in here a few minutes ago?' The string replied coolly, 'Nope, I'm a frayed knot.''
|
Symptom : Feet cold and wet. Fault : Glass being held at incorrect angle. Solution : Turn glass so that open end is pointing at ceiling.
Symptom : Bar moving. Fault: You are being carried out. Solution : Find out if you are being taken to another bar. If not complain loudly that you are being hi-jacked.
Symptom : Everything has gone dim. Fault : The pub is closing. Solution : PANIC!!
|
The lounge of the main hotel is full of jollity, with large comfortable men sitting in braces; the bar is packed with talkative intellectuals, full of witty disloyalties. The next week the main hotel is suddenly full of dinner-jackets and large hats. The girls are dressed as if for a weekend in the country. When one of the great men of the party comes through, the crowd edges respectfully away, murmuring loyal noises.
|
So this is a Harvard bar. I thought there'd be equations and shit on the walls.
|
Marijuana enhances many things, colors, flavors, sensations, but you are certainly not f**king empowered. When you're stoned, you're lucky if you can find your own goddamn feet. The only way it's a performance-enhancing drug is if there's a big f**king Hershey bar at the end of the run. Then you'll be like a Swiss ski jumper going, I'm there!
|
I am of course confident that I will fulfill my tasks as a writer in all circumstances -- from my grave even more successfully and more irrefutably than in my lifetime. No one can bar the road to truth, and to advance its cause I am prepared to accept even death. But may it be that repeated lessons will finally teach us not to stop the writer's pen during his lifetime? At no time has this ennobled our history.
|
I am no book larnt man, but there is few who can beat me swapping horses or guessing at the weight of a bar. I have come here because my peopl...
|
Cruel with guilt, and daring with despair, the midnight murderer bursts the faithless bar; invades the sacred hour of silent rest and leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast.
|
Getting kicked out of the American Bar Association is like getting kicked out of the Book-of-the-Month-Club.
|
How many lives do we live? How many times do we die? They say we all lose 21 grams... at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams? How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained? How much is gained? Twenty-one grams. The weight of a stack of five nickels. The weight of a hummingbird. A chocolate bar. How much did 21 grams weigh?
|
'Sarah'
My name is Sarah I am but three, My eyes are swollen I cannot see, I must be stupid I must be bad, What else could have made My daddy so mad? I wish I were better I wish I weren’t ugly They maybe mommy Would still want to hug me. I can’t speak at all I can’t do a wrong Or else I’m locked up All the day long. When I’m awake I’m all alone The house is dark My folks aren’t home When my mommy does come I’ll try and be nice, So maybe I’ll get just One whipping tonight. Don’t make a sound! I just heard a car My daddy is back From Charlie’s Bar. I heard him curse My name he calls I press myself Against the wall I try and hide From his evil eyes I’m so afraid now I’m starting to cry He finds me weeping He shouts ugly words, He says it’s my fault That he suffers at work. He slaps me and hits me And yells at me more, I finally get free And I run for the door. He’s already locked it And I start to bawl, He takes me and throws me Against the hard wall. I fall to the floor With my bones nearly broken, And my daddy continues With more bad words spoken. “I’m sorry!”, I scream But its much too late His face has been twisted Into unimaginable hate The hurt and the pain Again and again Oh please God, have mercy! Oh please let it end! And finally he stops And heads for the door, While I lay motionless Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah And I am but three, Tonight my daddy Murdered me.
|
A good leader needs to have a compass in his head and a bar of steel in his heart.
|
There is a vast difference - a constitutional difference-between restrictions imposed by the state which prohibit the intellectual commingling of students, and the refusal of individuals to commingle where the state presents no such bar.
|
I beg you do not vote for stills and open bar-rooms in the county.
|
Only one marriage I regret. I remember after I got that marriage license I went across from the license bureau to a bar for a drink. The bartender said, What will you have, sir? And I said, A glass of hemlock.
|
The need to be right all the time is the biggest bar to new ideas. It is better to have enough ideas for some of them to be wrong than to be always right by having no ideas at all.
|
Special cocktails for the ladies with nuts.
|
When we are sure that we are on the right road there is no need to plan our journey too far ahead. No need to burden ourselves with doubts and fears as to the obstacles that may bar our progress. We cannot take more than one step at a time.
|