Dave Barry Quotes

"Little Richard was drenched in milk, and the cow was none too happy. But the iron brig door hung open. "Good job," said Slank. "Next time, you milk the cow," said Little Richard."

Smee! Raise the Ladies!

Directors are always changing things at the last minute. Actors will do a scene, and the director will say, ‘Okay, that was perfect, but this time, Bob, instead of saying “What’s for dinner?” you say, “Wait a minute! Benzene is actually a hydrocarbon!” And say it with a Norwegian accent. Also, we think maybe your character should have no arms.

I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.

Other useful commands to teach your dog are 'stay,' 'heel,' 'remove your snout from that person's groin,' 'stop humping the Barcalounger,' 'do not bark violently for two hours at inanimate objects such as a flowerpot,' ' do not eat poop,' and 'if you must eat poop, then at least refrain from licking my face afterward'.

Millions of women got the Farrah Fawcett model hairstyle, thinking this made them look like Farrah Fawcett, when in fact it made them look like French poodles that had fallen into vats of hydrogen peroxide.

“Know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think Dad and Uncle Canaan would’ve loved this.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. This was their whole business model. Taking money from tourists for complete bullshit.”
Ken laughed. “True.” He looked at Brad. “So you’re saying I was right? My idea? That you said was so stupid?”
“I still think it’s stupid,” said Brad. “But I guess, these days, stupid is what works.”

Leonard Aster thanked Fighting Prawn and the Mollusk tribe for their hospitality.
“You mean,” said Fighting Prawn, “for not killing you?”
“Yes,” said Leonard. “It was very gracious of you.”
“Do you,” said Leonard, “I mean, does you tribe, shake hands?”
“No,” said Fighting Prawn. “We kiss on the lips.”
“Oh,” said Leonard, looking very alarmed.

In Hiroshima, a bellman arrived at our room, literally, within one minute. He had obviously been sprinting, and he looked concerned. He checked the faucet, found it was, indeed, malfunctioning, and- now looking extremely- concerned- sprinted from the room. In no more than three minutes he was back with two more men, one of whom immediately went to work on the bathtub. The sole function of the other one, as far as we could tell, was to apologize to us on behalf of the hotel for having committed this monumentally embarrassing and totally unforgivable blunder. "We are very sorry," he kept saying, looking as though near tears. "Very sorry." "It's OK!" I kept saying. "Really!" But it did no good. The man was grieving. The bathtub was fixed in under ten minutes, after which all three men apologized extravagantly in various languages one last time, after which they left, after which I imagine the hotel's Vice President for Faucet Operations was taken outside and shot. No, just kidding. He probably took his own life. That's how seriously they take their jobs over there.

"Horkman and I are on one side of the ravine, holding our guns over our heads. The Cubans are on the other side, going nuts, shouting "YI-YI-YI" ready to go kick some ass. In a movie, the next scene, we're all charging into battle.
But what actually happened was, first, Horkman and I climb down our side of the ravine, which was hard because those guns are a lot heavier than they look, plus it is really steep. We both kept dropping the guns and falling down, so we ended up mostly sliding on our butts, which took awhile. The Cubans tried to keep cheering, but after a while they realized they'd better pace themselves. Like every twenty seconds or so, one of them would yell "YI-YI-YI!" But you could tell they were losing the mood."

His body rigid with terror as he waited for the savages to something horrible to him — bash his head with clubs, or stab him with spears, or…
…or tap him on the shoulder.

1968- This is when it began to dawn on me that there was a serious competition going on in America to see who could be the biggest group of assholes: the right-wing assholes who thought that the Vietnam War was a good thing, as long as they personally did not have to go over to Vietnam and get shot at; or the left-wing assholes who thought that what we really needed was for more people to shoot each other here at home. It seemed as if both sets of assholes were winning in 1968. The King assassination did, in fact, result in terrible riots; and the Vietnam War, despite its growing unpopularity, became the longest in American history, with more U.S. troops over there than ever, and more men being drafted, and no end in sight.

But Nebraska was not always a bed of roses. When the first settlers arrived, they found a harsh, unforgiving place, a vast treeless expanse of barren, drought-parched soil. And so, summoning up the dynamic pioneer spirit of hope and steely determination, they left. But a few of them remained and built sod houses, which are actually made of dirt. Think about that. You can't clean a sod house, because it would be gone. The early settlers had a hell of a time getting this through to their children. "You kids stop tracking dirt out of the house!" they'd yell.

I had no shoes and I pitied myself. Then I met a man who had no feet,
so I took his shoes.

"WILLIAMS: The phrase, of course, is a variation of a line from the song "MacArthur Park." Any idea why the terrorists picked that particular song, Elizabeth?
BURGER: Brian, one theory is that it was chosen specifically to demoralize the United States, because it gets stuck in your head and everybody hates it."