View Full Version : The Big Kahuna - my fav movie


Blanched Dubois
05-03-13, 10:25 PM
Wherever you go, there you are and Sometimes you gotta chew your own leg off to get out of life's traps.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until theyíve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, youíll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you canít grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Donít worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Donít be reckless with other peopleís hearts. Donít put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Donít waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes youíre ahead, sometimes youíre behind. The race is long and, in the end, itís only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Donít feel guilty if you donít know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didnít know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still donít.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. Youíll miss them when theyíre gone.
Maybe youíll marry, maybe you wonít. Maybe youíll have children, maybe you wonít. Maybe youíll divorce at 40, maybe youíll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, donít congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody elseís.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Donít be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. Itís the greatest instrument youíll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you donít follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when theyíll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. Theyíre your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, youíll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Donít expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe youíll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Donít mess too much with your hair or by the time youíre 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than itís worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

Blanched Dubois
05-03-13, 10:59 PM
best monologue from movie

Phil: He's honest Bob; he's blunt as well. That sometimes is part of being honest, because there are a lot of people who are blunt. But not honest. Larry is not one of those. Larry is an honest man. You too are an honest man, Bob. I believe that, that somewhere down deep inside you is something that strives to be honest. The question you have to ask yourself is, has it touched the whole of my life? That means that you preaching Jesus is no different than Larry or anybody else preaching lubricants. It doesn't matter whether you're selling Jesus or buddah or civil rights or how to make money in real estate with no money down. That doesn't make you a human being. It makes you a marketing rep. If you want to talk to someone honestly, as a human being... ask him about his kids. Find out what his dreams are. Just to find out. For no other reason. Because as soon as you lay your hands on a conversation to steer it. It's not a conversation anymore. It's a pitch, and you're not a human being, you're a marketing rep. We were talking before about character. You were asking me about character. And we were speaking of faces. But the question is much deeper than that. The question is, do you have any character at all? And if you want my honest opinion Bob, you do not. For the simple reason that you don't regret anything yet. You've already done plenty of things to regret. You just don't know what they are. It's when you discover them. When you see the folly in something you've done. And you wish you had it to do over. But you know you can't because it's too late. So you pick that thing up and you carry it with you. To remind you that life goes on. The world will spin without you. You really don't matter in the end. Then you will attain character because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself all across your face. Until that day however, you cannot expect to go beyond a certain point.