You can try on our suede underwear if you choose. Do what you want, but don't step on my blue suede shoes.
Well, you wear underwear. That helps.
I remember that Jackie [Stewart] was the first driver wearing flameproof underwear! What it definitely was: it was much more flamboyant. But that doesn't really make it better in my point of view.
If you're reading something from a Nobel Prize-winning physicist next to some guy in his underwear writing in his basement, or his mom's basement, on text, it looks like it's equally plausible.
When we look at the full-on mass surveillance watching everyone in the country, in the United States, it doesn't work. It didn't stop the attacks in Boston. The marathon bombings. Where again, we knew who these individuals were. It didn't stop the Underwear Bomber, whose father walked into an embassy and warned us about this individual before he walked onto an airplane. And it's not going to stop the next attacks either. Because again, they're not public safety programmes. They're spying programmes. They are valuable for spying.
You never see Beyonce stumbling out of a club drunk and on drugs without underwear on - nor do you see Justin Timberlake pashing 5 chicks in a club. You never hear them slagging anyone in the media...They are composed and somewhat mysterious and that fascinates me!
I don't sound disloyal, but I've never had a pair of Marvel pyjamas or underwear. I do have a lot of Marvel figurines at home in a cabinet. Every time they make a new Marvel figure I put it in my cabinet.
Mitt Romney looks like a guy modeling briefs on a package of underwear ... He looks like a guy who goes to the restroom when the check comes ... He looks like a guy who would run a seminar on condo flipping ... He looks like he is the closer at a Cadillac dealership.... He looks like that guy on the golf course in the Levitra commercial.
I do enjoy my solo time ... I want to stay home and do soundtracks and watch TV in my underwear with a keyboard on my lap and just be a couch potato.
If you wait too long in Vegas, you end up with a chicken finger in your underwear.
I was 15 years old when I was in this band; we were called Stag. We used to wear spandex pants and no underwear - we looked like marbles smugglers.
God, she's growing up, and I don't know when it happened, man. I used to buy her Minnie Mouse panties and little Winnie the Pooh underwear. I was helping my wife fold cloths. I picked up a pair of skimpy underwear. I looked at my wife and said: "When you gonna wear these for me?" She goes, "I can't. They're your daughter's." "Aaaaaaahhhhhh! No, No, No!" There was nothing to them! The how-to-wash tag was the biggest piece of cloth on there.
I hate false advertising, like 'Skittles: taste the rainbow.' No one's ever been like, 'Rainbow, right you guys?' Or what's Reese's? 'There's no wrong way to eat a Reese's.' Oh, really? Tell that to my uncle who used to put them in my underwear. Alright, maybe your uncles didn't love you.
I've always been big. I'm never going to be an underwear model. But I am who I am, and that has its advantages and disadvantages.
I'm not "filled with my art". I ain't got no art. I've got only a kind of craftsman's skill, and make stories as I make biscuits or embroider underwear or wrap up packages.
Do you know what Bill Gates has to pull out of an old coat, to feel like I did with a $20 bill? First of all, the idea that Bill Gates has an old coat is preposterous. If he has an old coat, it's the coat Abe Lincoln was shot in and he wears it as a bathrobe - no underwear by the way. He lets his billionaire balls swing willy-nilly beneath the death cloak of the great emancipator. That's your 1%.
G-strings are uncomfortable. Girls want real knickers now.
I wear leather underwear!
When the child is twelve, your wife buys her a splendidly silly article of clothing called a training bra. To train what? I never had a training jock. And believe me, when I played football, I could have used a training jock more than any twelve-year-old needs a training bra.
They call it torture when our guys put underwear on a guy's head, stripped him naked, put an egg between his buttcheeks and made him do jumping jacks. You know, if it can't get you into a fraternity at Chico State University, it's not torture.
I've never been sent a lock of hair or anything like that, but I've gotten underwear with my face on it. That was weird.
I started making movies in my late 20s, that time in an artist's career that often sees artists just imitating things that he or she loves. I just wanted to be great like L'Age d'Or vintage Buñuel. I wanted to be Busby Berkeley, for crying out loud! I wanted to have chorus girls stomping their heels in my casting office. I wanted to be Erich Von Stroheim monogramming underwear for extras. So I started off my career doing that, and that was fun, but I realised I wasn't very good at it.
Normally you're 21 years old and you look like Tom Cruise and you do a couple underwear commercials first and then you're a movie star. That didn't happen for me. So it was all quite overwhelming.
I like that Sarah Palin. She looks like the flight attendant who won't give you a second can of Pepsi ... She looks like the nurse who weighs you and then makes you sit alone in your underwear for 20 minutes ... She looks like a real estate agent whose picture you see on the bus stop bench ... She looks like the hygienist who makes you feel guilty about not flossing ... She looks like the relieved mom in a Tide commercial.
Eventually, to get through school, I would make good meaningless blobs if I had to. And so they thought I was falling in with them and stuff like that. But on the playground, kids would come up to me and say, "I need three Supermans and a Captain Midnight by four o'clock because I'm going to sell them to somebody else." So I'd take all their lunch money and whip these things out, and they'd have to stick them in their underwear to get the pictures home, because if the teacher ever found out about that.
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