Tastes Like Chicken

"Cockatrices!...The whole basement is full of cockatrices. What should we do?...Jim!...JIM!.. (literally shouting) .JIM!...Yeah,  they would taste like chicken...Barbeque sauce? No, need some Tapatio...We're out? Ok, yeah, I guess we could use barbeque sauce...What kind?...No, that's no good...No...Jim, your taste in barbeque sauce is...No...What, a rake? What is this shit, Harvest Moon?"

(Us, in bed, snuggling. Dorian has fallen asleep. I cough, very quietly.)
Dorian: "Shh."
(A few minutes go by. I cough again.)
Dorian: "Mmf. Shh! That's two."

Ghetto Bandages

*Akhim jumps up onto the table*
Dorian: "Akhim, what in the buttery cat hell do you think you're doing?"
*Akhim steps onto a chair, sits, looks at Dorian*
Dorian: "That's what I fucking thought."

Last night:

"What? No, not the Cheese Whiz. No, tell it to the other packaging."

"Huh? I don't think I did it! Did I?"

"Ghetto bandages...on the...face...marsupials."

Happy Overpass!

Dorian made a lovely dinner for us tonight--pork ribs, gravy, and stuffing. As he sat down and took his first bite:

Dorian: "Oh, shit! Do you know what today is?"
Me, alarmed: "No, what?"
Dorian: "It's one of the last days of Passover. And I'm...eating pork cooked in butter and milk, with bread stuffing."
Me: "You have failed as a Jew."
Dorian: "Actually, I think I'm winning, because this is delicious!"

Lust of the Mohicans

"I don't have a crush on Daniel Day-Lewis. I have the exact amount of affection appropriate for someone as awesome and amazing as Daniel Day-Lewis existing in this universe."

The Ducks Are Nigh

"Well, he should stop being a sparkly gay unicorn, then!" (This was said with great indignation, with nothing said before or after to provide a hint as to what the hell he was talking about.)

"Zzzz...Adom! They're not playing the game right."
"Uh? Who?"
(With deep offense) "The Dutch."
(Wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.) "Well, tell them to stop it."
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because I don't speak Dutch. Duh."
"Okay, well, tell Jim to tell them, then." (I assume that Dorian's sleep logic will be satisfied with Jim's Dutch heritage, and we can move on.)
"Jim won't work."
"Why?"
"Because he doesn't speak Dutch, either. Get it together, Adom."

"I have the basket! It's in the bag. And it's full of fishes!"

"Hitler didn't use guns, that's an urban myth. The Nazis, they fired ducks...Quack, quack...semi-auto ducks, quacka-quacka-quacka. It's all a conspiracy to keep people from knowing about how dangerous the ducks are...Dammit, Jim, I've had just about enough of your racism! The ducks are nigh."

(Jim is, for the record, not a racist. He and Dorian tease each other by accusing the other of horrible things he'd never do. It makes for interesting first impressions when they forget to turn it off around new people.)

Troy

"No, Keebler, you're not a Moose Elf. Those guys fuck trees. We keep it classy in this bitch."

Last night, Dorian woke up suddenly.
"Zzz--snort! Whuh? What? Dammit, I slept through the entire Trojan war."

While Dorian and Jim were playing Black Ops the other day:

Jim: "The scientific method is crucial to my lovemaking technique. You can laugh, but I'm totally serious. It gets results."

Jim: "I'm going to be all over you. Like my glorious, glorious handjobs."
Dorian: "Jim."
Jim: "Yeah?"
Dorian: "Shut the fuck up."

Camel Luger

"The camel luger...he's the Olympic luge champion...but he's an asshole, you gotta watch out for him...him and the rest of his team...too many humps to be trustworthy."

"Go get him, Pizza Man!...NO, DON'T DO IT, PIZZA MAN!"