Fred Jones Quotes

Fred: "Is that brick wall your boyfriend?" Doug: "Only in my dreams." Fred: "Oh, you too? I'm Fred." Doug: "Doug. I should mention, in all fairness though that Christy's boyfriend is my best friend. He's the brick wall you should be worried about.

Thank you to Dr. Fred Jones, Esq. for the effective, inaugural Publish Me Now Retreat that laid a great foundation for me becoming an impactful author.

In spring training prior to his 1995 rookie season, Chipper was already so confident in who he was as a player that he famously deadpanned to veteran slugger Fred McGriff, after the Crime Dog grounded into an inning-ending double play, these two words: “Rally killer.” His confidence carried over to the field, just as it had since he began playing as a kid—he batted .265, and he led all rookies with 23 home runs, 87 runs, and 86 RBIs. Hideo Nomo was Rookie of the Year for the Dodgers, but Chipper and the Braves were World Champions.

Ginger Rogers said regarding her dancing partnership with Fred Astaire, “Just remember that everything Fred did, I did backwards, and in high heels.

Dr. Fred Jones - Creator of The amazing Amazon Self-publishing Facebook Group, business partner, my publishing strategist, and friend. Fred, you helped me to achieve my dream of becoming a multiple book author. Writing and publishing Dream Big: Seven Keys to Stepping into Your Calling changed my life and it opened up my literary world. There are no words to express my gratitude and appreciation for all you do.    Everyone on The amazing Amazon Self-publishing Facebook Group - thanks to all of you, you know who you are.

You don’t find the Lord; He found us, He pursued us while you, says Romans 5:8, “while we were still in sin, God sent Jesus to die for us.” 

Made a friend have you?' Ed asked, as Harry dropped into line beside him. 'I couldn't leave the poor thing tied to that cart could I?' 'Well it looks like you're stuck with it now,' Walter said, smiling as the dog trotted after the soldiers, its tail wagging happily. 'What are you doing with that bloody mutt, we've already got one dumb animal to look after and his name is Fred,' Williams said, patting the animal fondly on the head. 'I bet the dog has got less fleas than Fred,' Jones said. 'Aye, and he smells better,' Ed added.

What did the captain want with you?' Ed asked. Fred said nothing as he sat down. His face wearing a puzzled expression as he pushed a cigarette between his lips and lit a match. 'Well, what's the matter with you man?' Jones asked. 'Nothing,' Fred replied, staring at the cigarette burning between his fingers. 'What are they charging you with?' Williams asked. 'Nothing,' Fred said again, his voice monotone. 'What is up with you then?' 'The captain has made me a corporal,' Fred said. 'You,' Williams shouted, stepping several paces back as if struck by a heavy hammer. 'I'm in charge of the Lewis gun section, when they arrive that is,' Fred said, his words drawn out with disbelief. 'There must be some bloody mistake,' Williams said, staring at Fred with a look of horror in his eyes.

The poor, stupid fool,' Williams said, cupping his face with his hands. 'What's that supposed to mean?' Fred asked, his voice defensive. 'What do I mean?' Williams exclaimed, his voice echoing off the rafters. 'What I mean is that you're about as useless as a drunken Frenchman with no thumbs. You're a walking bloody disaster and now you're being put in charge of the Lewis gun section.' 'Captain Elwyn said I was perfect for the role. He said I was just the man for the job,' Fred replied, puffing out his chest with pride. 'Bloody Taffy would be right for the job, why the hell has he given it to you?' 'Because, Taffy never went on that course at the Lewis gun school at Bouchon,' Fred said, smiling smugly. 'You spent half that course drunk and the other half locked up.' 'I still know more about it than, Taffy.' 'I don't want any stripes, you can keep them away from me,' Jones said. 'I should say something,' Williams exclaimed, his voice hesitant.

Fred Smith’s replacement would be Gary Valentine, a New Jersey fuckup who liked to occasionally go out in drag and had a talent for songwriting. For a while he lived with Harry and Stein in Harry’s tiny one-bedroom at 105 Thompson Street; Stein was subletting his own place at 18 First Avenue off First Street to Tommy Ramone. Harry had a ’67 Camaro that opposite-side-of-the-street parking rules required her or Stein to move back and forth in the early morning, but it was beloved; on summer days she’d drive the guys to Jones Beach or Coney Island, looking like a modern version of a Shangri-Las song where the girl had the wheels and called the shots. While there was plenty of style-mixing,

A fuck from Fred usually lasted less than a minute.

You know the concept of time confuses me!

I need to tell you something and I need you to listen… I’m not a guy anymore. I HAVE FEELINGS!