Comeback Jokes Quotes

You know what’s really, powerfully sexy? A sense of humor. A taste for adventure. A healthy glow. Hips to grab on to. Openness. Confidence. Humility. Appetite. Intuition. … Smart-ass comebacks. Presence. A quick wit. Dirty jokes told by an innocent-looking lady. … A storyteller. A genius. A doctor. A new mother. A woman who realizes how beautiful she is.

Wait, sweetheart, you're not gonna card me?" He looked, bright eyed, at his table mates to join in the joke. "What, do I look old or something?" She'd dealt with this before. "No, you look honest." The guy to his left- this time central casting's Joseph (as in Jesus, Mary, and)- slapped his back and crowed at her response. "You thought you had her! She got you good, buddy!

He laughed. “If you’ve been here for a while and now you’re doing shots, it’s going to be an easy win for my team of highly trained, entirely sober intellectual giants.” “Want to bet?” “Sure.” “Twenty dollars?” “Dinner.” Nina studied his face, but he wasn’t joking. “Dinner it is. If I win, you can take me to Denny’s.” “Really?” She nodded. “I love Denny’s.” “Moons Over My Hammy?” “Every time. And if you win?” “Chicken and waffles.” She laughed. “We’re a classy pair.” He nodded. “I wonder what else we have in common apart from lowbrow tastes?” He smiled slowly at her, and she had no comeback at all. She swallowed.

Chris and I told the story of how we met in American Sniper. Briefly, I was living in Long Beach at the time. A girlfriend wanted to go down to San Diego--nearly a two-hour drive--to check out some bars and relax. I almost didn’t go; it was a long drive and I was tired. But I went. We ended up in a bar in Coronado, where I found myself drinking Scotch and offering sarcastic comebacks to an admittedly good-looking but obnoxious young man hitting on me. The man’s friend came over and interrupted us, joking that I was abusing his friend. Now this was a handsome man. A bit over six feet, solidly built, he had a warm smile and broad shoulders to go with a sweet Texas accent and an easygoing, aw-shucks manner that instantly melted my cynical heart. His name was Chris Kyle.

You are so poor… you can’t even pay attention!

You are so hairy… you shave with a weedeater!

Whole different story this time,' Bosco began. 'I'm going to make you work, Stephi-babe. This album is going to be my comeback.' Stephanie assumed he was joking. But he met her gaze evenly from within the folds of black leather. 'Comeback?' she asked. Jules had been wandering the loft, eyeing the framed gold and platinum Conduit albums paving the walls, the few guitars Bosco hadn't sold off, and his collection of pre-Columbian artifacts, which he hoarded in pristine glass cases and refused to sell. At the word 'comeback,' Stephanie felt her brother's attention suddenly engage. 'The album's called A to B, right?' Bosco said. 'And that's the question I want to hit straight on: how did I go from being a rock star to being a fat fuck no one cares about? Let's not pretend it didn't happen.' Stephanie was too startled to respond. 'I want interviews, features, you name it,' Bosco went on. 'Fill up my life with that shit. Let's document every fucking humiliation. This is reality, right? You don't look good anymore twenty years later, especially when you've had half your guts removed. Time's a goon, right? Isn't that the expression?' Jules had drifted over from across the room. 'I've never heard that,' he said. '"Time is a goon"?' 'Would you disagree?' Bosco said, a little challengingly. There was a pause. 'No,' Jules said. 'Look,' Stephanie said, 'I love your honesty, Bosco - ' 'Don't give me "I love your honesty, Bosco,"' he said. 'Don't get all PR-y on me.' 'I'm your publicist,' Stephanie reminded him. 'Yeah, but don't start believing that shit,' Bosco said. 'You're too old.

I could have been much less kind, trust me,” The dragon waved off my outburst. “Perhaps if you can give me a reason as to why I should bond with you…?” Despite my insistence, I couldn’t think of any reason at all why the dragon should accept my bond now that I was put on the spot. My hands clenched into fists, determined to sway him, however. “Because I am worthy of it!” I snapped, defending my pride and honor. The dragon rolled its eyes once more and looked me up and down as though I were on display to be judged. “Care to demonstrate, Martin?” I puffed out my chest and slammed my fist against it like Tarzan would. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.” The still-unnamed dragon seemed rather unimpressed with my declaration. He opened his mouth to offer some sort of witty comeback but closed it again. His forked tongue slithered over his teeth as he mulled over my challenge. And then we began the fastest lightning round of twenty questions I’d ever experienced. “Do you have any experience in fighting?” “I took tae kwon do after class in college for a semester and a half.” “How many languages are you fluent in?” “I can say ‘I only speak English’ in seven languages, not including English.” “At what level would you rate your intelligence?” “Well, I’m not stupid.” The dragon snorted, though whether it was in amusement or disbelief, I wasn’t clear. He continued all the same. “Any healing abilities?” “I can give mouth to mouth.” “Are you able to be stealthy? Deceptive?” “I trip over my own shadow and couldn’t lie to a rock.” “Your honesty might just be your redeeming quality, Martin,” the dragon joked.

The Other Side of the Wind is the story of Jake Hannaford, a hard-drinking, big-game-hunting, womanizing, adventure-seeking director who loves to shoot in remote locations around the world and revels in putting himself, his cast, and his crew in dangerous situations. Welles would joke that at least one crew member dies on the set of every Hannaford film. A product of the studio system, Hannaford fell out of favor and retreated to Europe for a few years of self-imposed exile and has finally returned to Los Angeles, seeking end money to complete his artsy, modernist attempt at a sex-infused and violence-laden comeback movie that reflects the style and values of New Hollywood circa 1970. As Welles mentioned in his introduction, the film examines the last day of Hannaford’s life as viewed through the medium of film in

It comes times in life in which you don't have good comeback… BUT It's life and you need to suck this whole pill!