“So what if I wrote some number on that yid’s forearm… It’s a joke!!”
Leave it to Mel to find a vending machine that dispenses vodka in plastic bottles.
Wait—what? He’s pictured yesterday on the set of the movie he made six years ago?
Is this because of the Mayan Apocalypse thing? Is there a picture coming up of Michael Moriarty in the Chrysler Building?
“When I tried to buy this pen, the heeb at the counter tried to Jew me on the price. I told him to go fuck himself, laid the money on the counter and walked away. At the door I turned around and said “Merry fucking, Christmas.”
The cashier’s name was Christmas?
I don’t know where that comma came from. My bad.
Uh, Mel. We wrapped this movie about 10 years ago. And you can put away the sharpie, 10 years ago was also the last time anybody wanted your autograph.
“… or I’ll burn this movie set down and piss out the ashes.”
“This could be the pen that signs the pre-nup, beautiful. Whaddya say?”
“Any fucker that asks for an autograph, is going to get this grey sharpie shoved straight up their arrz!” Now where’s the gin?
“Who wants to smoke this jay I found in the women’s bathroom?”
“You can smoke these damn pens all night and won’t catch a buzz. But they’re really good to write with on the sign-up sheet at AA meetings.”
You kids are trying too hard. your jokes stink. take a break, for god’s sake…
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