Whether it's your first Bonnaroo or you’re a music festival veteran, we welcome you to Inforoo.
Here you'll find info about artists, rumors, camping tips, and the infamous Roo Clues. Have a look around then create an account and join in the fun. See you at Bonnaroo!!
Post by HoodooOperator on Feb 4, 2008 18:29:51 GMT -5
Dante: Dr. Shakalu brought my some crazy Zimbabwe weed that turns you into a deer. Alex: You do know that lions eat deer, right? Dante: Thats true kid. Doctor, we gotta be careful.
Just imagine if girls weren't weirded out by our boners and stuff, and just like wanted to see them. That's the world I one day want to live in. - evan, superbad.
My parents wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade, but we decided to chuck the idea because I'd have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah. Now blah, blah, blah is all I ever do. I use my grand IQ to decide what color lip gloss to wear in the morning and how to hit three keggers before curfew... -Veronica Sawyer
Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa? -Heather Chandler
"What are we doing here? We need a place that sells harpoons and nets and hammers." "Why?" "Well, we harpoon Charles straight through the head, drag him back to your place in the net, and then hit him with the hammer until he agrees to come back." "Harpoon him through the head?" "What? It's a brilliant plan." "It'll never work."
Post by ziggyandthemonkeys on Feb 6, 2008 13:08:44 GMT -5
If you're edged 'cause I'm weazin all your grindage, just chill. 'Cause if I had the whole brady bunch thing happenin' at my pad, I'd go grind over there, so dont tax my gig so hard-core cruster.
Rock me mama like wagon wheel, rock me mama any way you feel, hey, mama rock me. Rock me mama like the wind and the rain, rock me mama like a south-bound train, hey, mama rock me...
Colonel James: I'm looking forward to seeing you in action. Jack says you've got a great big c ock. Eddie Adams: Well, I don't know, I guess so. Colonel James: May I see it? Eddie Adams: Really? Colonel James: Please! [stares as Eddie lowers his shorts] Colonel James: Thank you, Eddie! Eddie Adams: No problem. [the Colonel continue to stare as Eddie walks away]
' I like to think of Jesus as a mischievous badger. ' - cal naughton jr, talledega nights.
' She said "No, you're wrong." I said "You got a lumpy butt." She got mad at me and yelled at me and I pissed in my pants and I never did change my pee-pants all day. I'm still sittin' in my dirty pee-pants. ' - texas ranger, talledega nights.
Post by HoodooOperator on Feb 9, 2008 10:51:07 GMT -5
Tom: What's he doin? Droz: He's finishing his senior thesis. Pigman is trying to prove the Caine-Hackman theory. No matter what time it is, 24 hours a day, you can find a Michael Caine or Gene Hackman movie playing on TV. Tom: That's his thesis? Droz: Yes! That's the beauty of college these days, Tommy! You can major in Game Boy if you know how to bullshit.
[Monty standing in the men's bathroom, talking to himself in a mirror with a "FUCK YOU" written on it] Monty Brogan: Well, fuck you, too. Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky, whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place. [pause]
"Edwina's insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase"
"And it SEEMED real, it SEEMED like us, and it seemed like, well, our home--if not Arizona then a land not to far away, where all parents are strong and wise and capable, and all children are happy and beloved. I don't know. Maybe it was Utah. "
Post by HoodooOperator on Feb 12, 2008 21:06:39 GMT -5
"Well, most recently, there's room 309, there's this scary Mexican gangster dude poking his finger in my chest. There's his hooligan kids snapping their fingers at me. There's a putrid, rotting corpse of a dead whore stuck in the springs of the bed. There's rooms blazing afire. There's a big fat needle from God knows where, stuck in my leg, infecting me with God knows what. And finally there's me, walking out the door, right fu*king now. Buenas noches."
'Then one morning, I woke up and said, "Fuck fish." I renounce fish, I will never set foot in that ocean again. And there hasn't been a time where I have stuck so much as a toe back in that ocean.' - john laroche, adaptation.
She's not my special lady, she's my fucking lady friend. I'm just helping her conceive. - The Dude
Sure you'll see some tank battles. But fighting in desert is very different from fighting in canopy jungle. I mean 'Nam was a foot soldier's war whereas, uh, this thing should be a fucking cakewalk. I mean I had an M16, Jacko, not an Abrams fucking tank. Just me and Charlie, man, eyeball to eyeball. That's fuckin' combat. The man in the black pyjamas, Dude. Worthy fuckin' adversary.
Whereas what we have here? A bunch of fig-eaters wearing towels on their heads, trying to find reverse in a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy adversary. - Walter Sobchak
What is love? What is this longing in our hearts for togetherness? Is it not the sweetest flower? Does not this flower of love have the fragrant aroma of fine, fine diamonds? Does not the wind love the dirt? Is not love not unlike the unlikely not it is unlikened to? Are you with someone tonight? Do not question your love. Take your lover by the hand. Release the power within yourself. Your heard me, release the power. Tame the wild cosmos with a whisper. Conquer heaven with one intimate caress. That's right don't be shy. Whip out everything you got and do it in the butt. By Leon Phelps - the ladies man
