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The details of my life are quite inconsequential...


ILSnwdog
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Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
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Vanessa Kensington: Look, I know I'm being neurotic, but I can't shake off this suspicious feeling about that Italian secretary. You know, Miss Fagina. I don't want to sound paranoid, but I've had some bad relationships in the past, and I have been known to be jealous. I'm sorry.

 

Austin Powers: No, don't be sorry, baby. You're right to be suspicious. I shagged her.

 

Vanessa Kensington: What?

 

Austin Powers: I shagged her rotten, baby, yeah!

 

Vanessa Kensington: I don't believe you, Austin! I mean, she was repellant.

 

Austin Powers: Saucer of milk, table 2. Meow.

 

Vanessa Kensington: Well, did you use protection?

 

Austin Powers: Of course. I had my 9mm automatic.

 

Vanessa Kensington: You know I meant 'did you use a condom'?

 

Austin Powers: No. Only sailors use condoms, baby.

 

Vanessa Kensington: Not in the 90's, Austin.

 

Austin Powers: Well they should, those filthy beggars. They go from port to port.

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Shall we shag now, or shall we shag later? How do you like to do it? Do you like to wash up first? You know, top and tails... whore's bath? Personally, before I'm on the job, I like to give my undercarriage a bit of a 'how's your father'!
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Dr. Evil: Any ways, the key to this plan is the giant laser. It was invented by the noted Cambridge physicist Dr. Parsons. Therefore, we shall call it the Alan Parsons Project.

Scott: Oh, my God.

Dr. Evil: What now?

Scott: The Alan Parsons Project is a progressive rock band in 1982. Why don't you just name it 'Operation Wang-Chung'? Ass.

Dr. Evil: I'm sorry, i don't...

Scott: Oh nothing. I'm sure 'Operation Bananarama' will be huge.

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OK, you're an animal! Yes, there we go. You're a tiger! You're Tony the Tiger! You're grrreat! Very good. Loving it. Now you're a lemur. Running as a pack. We go left. We go right. There's a predator out of the jungle. What's going on? Burrow! That's right, you're a lemur. That's all you've got. You don't have sharp teeth capable of biting. Make an interconnected series of tunnels like the Viet Cong. And look. I'm not even shooting you. It's crazy. And I'm spent.
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First things first: WHERE'S YOUR SHITTER? I've got a turtle-head poking out.

 

Charming

 

I'm not kiddin'. I've got a crap on deck that could choke a donkey. Aww, it's SQUIDGY. Christ, I'm gettin' all emotional from it, ya know?

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