A terrible fan site for Dan's shows and other things related to him
Introduction to Film
Prof. Whitman: Death, so called, is a thing that makes men weep and yet a third of life is spent in sleep? Open your books to page 37. Now close them, and throw them away. Throw it away! Ha-ha-ha-haaa! Throw it away. For those of you who are new, the motto of this class, Carpe Diem. SEIZE…THE…DAY! No tests, no papers. You want an “A”? Live in…the moment.
Pierce: Voice command. *beeping* Voice command. *beeping* Voice command. *beeping* Voice command. *beeping* Voice command. *beeping* Voice command. *beeping* *clears throat* Voice comm-
*Britta slams her hands on the table*
Britta: Would you please use the buttons?
Pierce: Okay, grandpa.
*Troy sneezes*
Shirley: Oh. God bless you, dear.
*Shirley and Annie laugh*
Troy: What’s so funny?
Shirley: Isn’t Abed’s dad a hardcore Muslim? They’re not as understanding as Christians, you could get your head cut off with a salami sword.
Annie: Shirley, that’s the most racist thing I’ve ever heard.
Jeff: Pierce will beat that in one minute.
Jeff: You guys, are we gonna study Spanish or keep getting involved in each other’s personal lives?
*Troy sneezes*
Jeff: Hey, Troy sneezes like a girl.
Troy: And how about I pound you like a boy…that didn’t come out right.
Shirley: Why don’t you all just leave him alone with his cute little baby sneezes.
Troy: You’re not my mother.
Pierce: She’s not?
Jeff: Twenty-nine seconds.
Abed: 9/11 was pretty much the 9/11 of the falafel market.
Prof. Whitman: Shirley?
Shirley: To get a degree in business so I can sell my baked goods and whatnot on the internet.
Prof. Whitman: Why are you here?
Shirley: To get a degree in business so I can sell my baked goods and whatnot on the internet.
Prof. Whitman: WHY ARE YOU HERE?
Shirley: Because I wasted fifteen years of my life on a man who left me with nothing but stretch marks and a foggy memory of two bland orgasms and now it’s time to get what’s mine!
Prof. Whitman: Day seized.
Prof. Whitman: Only when we stop stopping our lives can we begin to start starting them.
Prof. Whitman: Well, here’s a quiz for you. Why did the pretty young girl die, alone, surrounded by sweater-wearing cats who are trained to use human toilets?
Prof. Whitman: All your lives you were told don’t stand on your desks, well why not? *girl’s desk breaks and she falls* She’s okay, go to the nurse, seize the day.
Prof. Whitman: Well, glad to hear it. Because if you don’t genuinely seize the day, before the end of the week. Then you will be seizing an F for the semester.
Jeff: This is no way to teach accounting!
Abed: Our first assignment is a documentary, they’re like real movies but with ugly people.
Jeff: Hey, if you’re making a documentary about Britta patting herself on the back, you’re gonna need a backup battery.
Jeff: Holy. War.
Gubi: Where do I find Mr. Britta?
Britta: I’m Mr. Britta. That’s right. I’m a woman, with rights. And you can see my whole face.
Gubi: Oh. I get it, because I’m Arab I must hate women. Let me tell you something, I love women. But I’m getting a major B-word vibe from you.
Jeff: Wow, I can’t believe I missed out on getting involved in this.
Gubi: You go host American Idol, and you stop messing with my son. He’s a special boy. I raise him okay, you don’t raise him.
Britta: Raising him means letting him follow his dreams.
Gubi: Dreams are for sleeping.
Britta: You don’t know that.
Gubi: It’s clinically proven.
Britta: So is polio.
Gubi: You lost me!
Abed: I’ll have to make some adjustments to my film. Jeff I think you should play the role of my father.
Jeff: I don’t want to be your father.
Abed: Perfect, you already know the lines.
Jeff: Okay. I will get a small black coffee.
Prof. Whitman: Boo. An ordinary coffee for an ordinary life.
Jeff *cheerfully*: Good morning Professor Whitman!
Prof. Whitman: *pulls on Jeff’s suspenders*: Sorry, Mr. Winger. These won’t cut it.
Jeff: Shazbat!
Prof. Whitman: I shall have…*tears menu in half* A birthday cake!
Pierce: First, I’d lose the jacket you look like a high school bitch.
Prof. Whitman: Sloppy. And considering the ages of these girls, unwittingly creepy.
Jeff: Damn it! *hands girl money* Beat it. Professor, will you look at the amount of work that I’m putting into to this? I mean, throw me a bone.
Prof. Whitman: Had I not already cried at the sunrise this morning, I would be weeping right now.
Jeff: What does that mean?
Prof. Whitman: What do you mean, Jeff? What does your life mean? How long does it take you in the morning to make it look like you have bed-head? How many sweatpants-sport jacket combos did you try before you found the one that said, “I don’t care?” Seize the day, Jeff, for real. Go running naked in a hail storm, kiss a girl in the middle of the day. Fly a kite, but do it for yourself. Or you won’t just fail my class, you’ll fail life.
Britta: You don’t really have tickets for Ravi Shankar, do you?
Jeff: I lied to get you here, because it’s time to communicate.
Britta: Communicate? Have you met Abed?
Gubi: Hey, wait a minute. Where’s Weezer?
Gubi: You and your pilled-lipped girlfriend got all up in my stuff because you wanted to be cowboys, and then you turned chicken when you found out it would take more than speeches and guided missiles.
Jeff: Interesting, I hadn’t seen the Iraq metaphor.
Gubi: What Iraq metaphor, I’m talking about your speeches and her guided-
Jeff: Got it. The point is, is that Britta is sorry, right?
Britta: Wrong,
Jeff: Crap.
Britta: Abed may not be a great film maker, but that doesn’t mean he wants to make falafel. You need to let him make his own decisions.
Gubi: Make his own decisions? Have you met Abed?
Britta: Did you do all that to me on purpose? That’s not a very nice way to treat your friends.
Abed: Well, Britta, it isn’t called friend business, it’s called show business.
Britta: He’s smoking!
Jeff: Honey, let him leave the nest.
Britta: For someone that doesn’t like getting involved, well, I owe you.
Jeff: You owe me? That can not be comfortable for you.
Britta: Hey, um… You should kiss me right now.
Prof. Whitman: Day seized!
Britta: We’re even.
Prof. Whitman: A+ Winger, I know a life-changing kiss when I see one. Wowee!
Jeff: Yeah. Fooled you.