Found 446 results
34.3s
Hi. You're gonna call off your rigorous investigation. You're gonna publicly state that there is no underground group, or... these guys are gonna take your bails. They're gonna send one to the New York Times, one to the L.A. Times press release style. Look... the people you are after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals. We haul your trash. We connect your calls. We drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not fuck with us.
Fight Club
1m25s
I want you to do me a favor. Yeah, sure. I want you to hit me as hard as you can. What? I want you to hit me as hard as you can. Let me tell you a little bit about Tyler Durden. Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleeping, he worked. He had one part-time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one big reel. It comes on a few. So someone has to be there to switch the projectors at the exact moment that one reel ends and the next one begins. If you look for it, you can see these little dots come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen. In the industry, we call them "cigarette burns." That's the cue for a changeover. He flips the projectors, the movie keeps right on going, and nobody in the audience has any idea. Why would anyone want this shit-job? Because it affords him other interesting opportunities. Like splicing single frames of pornography into family films. So when the snoot y cat and the courageous dog with the celebrity voices meet for the first time in reel 3, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's contribution to the film. Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did. A nice big cock. Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.
Fight Club
59.5s
Do you know what a duvet is? Comforter. It's a blanket. Just a blanket. Why do guys like you and I know what a duvet is? Is this essential to our survival in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we, then? We're, uh, you know, consumers... Right. We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty- these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra. Martha Stewart. Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic. It's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns. I say, never be complete. I say, stop being perfect. I say, let's... let's evolve. Let the chips fall where they may.
Fight Club