Two from BILLY MADISON.
This question...
Question: "The industrial revolution changed the face of the American novel forever. Discuss citing specific examples."
...sets up the first one:
Billy: "The industrial revolution to me is just like a story i know called the puppy who lost his way. The world was changing, and the puppy was getting bigger...So you see, the puppy was like industry, in that they were both lost in the woods and nobody, especially the little boy, "society", knew where to find them. Except that the puppy was a dog, but the industry my friends, that was a revolution. Knibb High football rules!"
Which leads to this great monologue:
Question asker: "Mr Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."
And a short simple, but effective reply by Billy which I’m not sure actually counts as a monologue but is nonetheless less great:
Billy:"Ok, a simple wrong would have done just fine."
Yeah, **** you, too. **** *me*? **** *you*, **** you and this whole city and everyone in it. **** the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. **** the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car - get a ****ing job! **** the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores stinking up my day. Terrorists in ****ing training. SLOW THE **** DOWN! **** 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. **** 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? **** 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 ****ing came from! **** the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! **** the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother ****ers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for ****ING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a ****ing break! Tyco! Worldcom! **** the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst ****in' 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. **** 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." **** the Upper East Side wives with their Hermès 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! **** 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 **** on! **** the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! **** the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. **** the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, **** J.C.! 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 ****in' Otisville, J.! **** 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! **** Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. **** Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. **** Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, ****ing *****. **** my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, and cheering the Bronx Bombers. **** 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 ****ing ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place
Originally posted by jaden_2.0
Yeah, **** you, too. **** *me*? **** *you*, **** you and this whole city and everyone in it. **** the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. **** the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car - get a ****ing job! **** the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores stinking up my day. Terrorists in ****ing training. SLOW THE **** DOWN! **** 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. **** 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? **** 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 ****ing came from! **** the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! **** the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother ****ers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for ****ING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a ****ing break! Tyco! Worldcom! **** the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst ****in' 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. **** 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." **** the Upper East Side wives with their Hermès 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! **** 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 **** on! **** the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! **** the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. **** the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, **** J.C.! 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 ****in' Otisville, J.! **** 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! **** Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. **** Francis Xavier Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. **** Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the river, ****ing *****. **** my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, and cheering the Bronx Bombers. **** 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 ****ing ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place
-slow clap-
Good Will Hunting, the bar scene. Great every time
Game of Inches speech from Any Given Sunday, rouses me every damn time
Originally posted by Quincy
YouTube video
Yasssssssss!
Vin Diesel does a great monologue in KNOCKAROUND GUYS.