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WINNERS
"Mr. Dali, I think your hamstring is rubbing my snatch. I certainly appreciate your Persistence." --Rich Lather
. HONORABLE MENTIONS
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Well, Mr. Radosh, that nonsense may serve you well on the Daily Show, but it's worthless here--Johnny B.
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"You put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in..."*scratch*"Sorry - that record always skips. Let's...uh oh..." --Damon
27 comments:
"I know you said you had an extremely long trouser snake, but I expected something different."
"It's true: he had an affair with Cathy Guisewite! That's right - stomp on Danny Shanahan's name! Stomp that cheating bastard! Harder! Yes! Ye- oh. I think you hurt your leg..."
"My leg doesn't do that. Can I use my clit?"
"And one, and square root of two, and Pi, and 4..."
"You put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in, you put your right foot in..."
*scratch*
"Sorry - that record always skips. Let's...uh oh..."
"Honey? I think you need to empty your colostomy bag."
"Normally I tell my students that dancing is a state of mind. In your case, however, I think the grotesquely disfigured leg trumps all other considerations."
"Look, I'm a veteran here on Dancing With The Stars, and, in my opinion, your freakish leg will get you only so far."
How long is it when it's hard?
"Well, at least it distracts women from noticing your receding hairline."
"So, when you asked me how to get your foot in the door, you meant it literally?"
"I'm pretty sure it's broken. Are you sure you don't want to reschedule?"
"So, what you're telling me is that it was an episode of footsie which got out of hand?"
"If only your tongue could do that we wouldn't have waste time dancing."
"Mr. Dali, I think your hamstring is rubbing my snatch. I certainly appreciate your Persistence."
Well, Mr. Fantastic, that may be an advantage in fighting crime, but it's worthless here.
No, I don't think you'll get to Vegas on So You Think You Can Dance, but you can probably make Mary Murphy scream.
Oh my God! Let me help you to a chair and I'll call 9 1 1.
Well, Mr. Radosh, that nonsense may serve you well on the Daily Show, but it's worthless here.
"The producers already knew you were twisted, Mr Delay. That's why they invited you onto Dancing with the Stars."
"Jesus that's disgusting."
"So, what you're saying is that you don't get your pants off-the-rack?"
"For some reason, you seem to have helped me overcome my triskaidekaphobia."
"Does my leg bother you?"
"Oh heavens no, Mr. Yancy! Hardly anything bothers me. Actually, if I think about it, only one thing does..."
"What's that?"
"Granny pants! I hate them. The last time I saw a grandmother wearing them, I killed her! Isn't that silly?"
"Um, yes. Please don't look over by the chairs."
"Wow! I've never seen a shoe in Size 10 1/2 EEL!"
"Lisa, would you believe my other leg doesn't even have a knee? What are the chances?"
"Oh, that....I'm told I was an accident. My parents were making sweet, sweet love under a Yucca tree while Zamfir's Lonely Shepard played from a nearby apartment window. Apparently, the condom broke and a small piece of it fused to my embryo and became part of me. Hence, my leg. My pliable form made for an easy birth for my mother. My father, though, left immediately upon seeing me, and I've never met him. I still can't hear Zamfir without tearing up a little."
"Yes it's impressive. You can take your knee out of my crotch now."
"He's my twisted sister's father."
"Uhhhh...good, but you're over compensating for your prosthesis."
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