Mel Gibson at a screening of The Beaver in Los Angeles. (June 1, 2011)
“…Well, at least my stand-up routine will be funnier than Charlie Sheen’s”…
I gotta say, he’s not selling me on The Beaver.
Maybe if I hold the mic like this we can hear what the hell is going on inside my head, because I sure as hell can’t explain it.
Mel was just as disappointed as everyone else when he learned what “The Beaver” was really about.
“How did things get this bad?”
I should have realized that “Beaver” was short for Jewish Conspiracy to Deny Me Blowjobs. Damn.
Mel Gibson kicks off his “Stinking Bucket of Bigotry and Violence Tour” with a 30 second performance to an empty auditorium.
“Here. The voices in my head do a much better job explaining how the Jews run the world than I do.”
remembering when the last time he got head.
“Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.”
** Photo courtesy of a woman, not a f—ing little girl with a f—ing dysfunctional c—, a f—ing woman. One who needs a f—ing bat to the side of the head. All right? How about that? One who needs a f—ing doctor. One who needs a f—ing brain transplant. One who needs a f—ing … needs a f—ing soul.
One who understands what gratitude is when I f—ing bend over backwards with my balls in a knot. and she gives me s— with a f—ing sour look and says I’m mean. What the f— is that? This is mean! Get it! You get it now? What mean is? Get it?
“I swear to god Rog, I’ll do it!”
“Regrets? I’ve had a few..”
I got drunk, and ranted about Jews
Now my roles will be but a few
more once more, I drunkenly
did it, “My Way.”
I’ve been sitting her for 15 minutes and still haven’t gotten the blowjob I was promised.
That’s odd, I was just thinking the exact same thing.
Mother always told me “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
I know when I put this end near my mouth, stupid things come out. so if I touch it to my head, can I put them back in?
“I’m a tumor I’m a tumor….I’m a tumor I’m a tumor…”
Looks like somebody just watched the end of Schindler’s List.
“blub, blub, blub, FUCKKKKKKK!, hummm, hummmm, hummm, SLUTTTTS!”
Every one of these screenings, it’s the same god damn thing… the only people that show up are hoping to meet Jerry Mathers.
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