Private Pyle you had best square your ass away and start shitting me Tiffany cufflinks or I will definitely fuck you up! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Are you quitting on me? Well, are you? Then quit, you slimy fucking walrus-looking piece of shit!
Get the fuck off of my obstacle! Get the fuck down off of my obstacle! Or I'm going to rip your balls off, so you cannot contaminate the rest of the world! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : [ calling out to platoon ] Left shoulder, hut! He walks up on him ]. Private Gomer Pyle : Sir, I don't know, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : You are dumb, Private Pyle, but do you expect me to believe that you don't know left from right? Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Then you did that on purpose!
You wanna be different! Private Gomer Pyle : Sir, left side, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : [ slaps him hard again, this time on right side of his face, knocking his hat off; shouts ] What side was that, Private Pyle?
Private Gomer Pyle : [ nearly in tears ] Sir, right side, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up your fuckin' cover! None of you dumbasses knows? Private Cowboy? Private Cowboy : Sir, he was that guy who shot all those people from that tower in Austin, Texas, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : That's affirmative. Charles Whitman killed twelve people from a twenty-eight-story observation tower at the University of Texas from distances up to four hundred yards. Anybody know who Lee Harvey Oswald was? Private Snowball? Private Snowball : Sir, he shot Kennedy, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : That's right, and do you know how far away he was?
Private Snowball : Sir, it was pretty far! From that book suppository building, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : All right, knock it off! Two hundred and fifty feet!
He was two hundred and fifty feet away and shooting at a moving target. Oswald got off three rounds with an old Italian bolt action rifle in only six seconds and scored two hits, including a head shot!
Do any of you people know where these individuals learned to shoot? Private Joker? Private Joker : Sir, in the Marines, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : In the Marines! Those individuals showed what one motivated marine and his rifle can do! And before you ladies leave my island, you will be able to do the same thing! Animal Mother : You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".
Private Joker : [ narrating ] Graduation is only a few days away, and the recruits of Platoon are salty. They are ready to eat their own guts and ask for seconds.
The drill instructors are proud to see that we are growing beyond their control. The Marine Corps does not want robots. The Marine Corps wants killers. The Marine Corps wants to build indestructible men, men without fear. Lockhart : [ reading ] In the future, in place of "search and destroy," substitute the phrase "sweep and clear. Private Joker : Got it. Very catchy. Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Pickett! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Toe Jam!
You go out and find mines. Basic Military Journalism. You gotta be shittin' me, Joker. You think you're Mickey Spillane? You think you're some kind of a fuckin' writer?
Private Joker : Sir, I wrote for my high school newspaper, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Jesus H. You're not a writer. You're a killer! Private Joker : A killer, yes, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Gomer Pyle. Private Gomer Pyle : [ staring into space ] Sir, yes, sir! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : You forget your fuckin' name? You made it. Private Cowboy : Tough break for Hand Job.
He was all set to get shipped out on a medical. Private Joker : What was the matter with him? Private Cowboy : He was jerkin' off ten times a day. Private Eightball : No shit. At least ten times a day. Private Cowboy : Last week he was sent down to Da Nang to see the Navy head shrinker, and the crazy fucker starts jerking off in the waiting room. Instant Section Eight. He was just waiting for his papers to clear division.
Private Eightball : Personally, I think, uh You know, I mean But they don't want it. They'd rather be alive than free, I guess.
Poor dumb bastards. Private Joker : Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me? Private Cowboy : Hey, start the cameras. This is "Vietnam - the Movie. I'll be a horse. Donlon : T. Rock can be a rock. Rock : I'll be Ann-Margret. Doc Jay : Animal Mother can be a rabid buffalo. Crazy Earl : I'll be General Custer. Private Rafterman : Well, who'll be the Indians? Animal Mother : Hey, we'll let the gooks play the Indians. Private Cowboy : Don't shit me, man! Private Joker : I wouldn't shit you.
You're my favorite turd! Private Eightball : This baby-san looks like she can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. Private Cowboy : I think what she's trying to say is that you black boys pack too much meat. Lockhart : Charlie has hit every major military target in Vietnam, and hit 'em hard. In Saigon, the United States Embassy has been overrun by suicide squads. Khe Sahn is standing by to be overrun.
We also have reports that a division of N. In strategic terms, Charlie's cut the country in half In other words, it's a huge shit sandwich, and we're all gonna have to take a bite.
Private Joker : Sir Lockhart : Joker I want you to get straight up to Phu Bai. Captain January will need all his people. Lockhart : And Joker, you will take off that damn button. How's it gonna look if you get killed wearing a peace symbol? Private Rafterman : Sir? Permission to go with Joker? Lockhart : Permission granted. Private Rafterman : Thank you, sir. Private Joker : Sir, permission not to take Rafterman with me? Lockhart : You still here? Vanish, Joker, most ricky-tick, and take Rafterman with you.
You're responsible for him. Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Are you shook up? Are you nervous? Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Do I make you nervous? Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : "Sir" what? Were you about to call me an asshole?
Private Pyle, why is your footlocker unlocked? Private Gomer Pyle : Sir, I don't know, sir. Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Private Pyle, if there is one thing in this world that I hate, it is an unlocked footlocker! You know that don't you? Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : If it wasn't for dickheads like you, there wouldn't be any thievery in this world, would there?
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Private Pyle, your ass looks like about a hundred and fifty pounds of chewed bubblegum! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Get your fat ass up there! I'll bet if there was some pussy up there you would get up there, wouldn't you? Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Do you feel dizzy?
Do you feel faint! Jesus H. I think you've got a hard-on! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : One for the Commandant! One for the Corps! Come on Joker, pull! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : I guess the Corps don't get theirs! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Get up there, fat boy! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Come on, Pyle! You mean to tell me you can't do one single pull up Pyle? You are a worthless piece of shit, Pyle!
Get outta my face! Private Joker : I wanna slip my tube steak into your sister. What'll you take in trade? Private Eightball : Now you might not believe it, but under fire Animal Mother is one of the All he needs is somebody to throw hand grenades at him the rest of his life. Private Payback : Joker ain't never been in the shit. He thinks "The Bad Bush" is between old mama-san's legs. Private Cowboy : Remember, this was all just a bad dream, fat boy! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : As soon as your bunks are done, I want you two turds to clean the head.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : I want that head so sanitary and squared-away that the Virgin Mary herself would be proud to go in and take a dump. It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress. Private Cowboy : I hate Vietnam. There's not one horse in this whole country. There's not one horse in Vietnam. There's somethin' basically wrong with that.
Lockhart : Joker, maybe you'd like our guys to read the paper and feel bad? In case you didn't know it, this is not a particularly popular war, and it's our job to report the news that the why-are-we-here civilian newsmen ignore. Animal Mother : [ as the squad discusses on what to do with the wounded sniper ] Hey asshole Cowboy's wasted. You're fresh out of friends. I'm running the squad now, and I say we leave the gook for the motherlovin' rats.
Private Joker : I'm not trying to run the squad. I'm just saying we can't leave her like this. Pyle is shooting at the targets, doing an impressive job while Hartman watches ]. I think we finally found something that you do well. Private Eightball : What we have here, little yellow sister, is a magnificent specimen of pure Alabama Blacksnake.
But it ain't too goddamned beaucoup. Private Joker : A day without blood is like a day without sunshine. Rock : You're going home now. Private Eightball : Go easy, bros. Animal Mother : Better you than me. Animal Mother : What do I think about the U. I think we should win it. Private Cowboy : We're the Lusthog Squad. We're lifetakers and heartbreakers.
We shoot 'em full of holes and fill 'em full of lead. Animal Mother : Hey, Jungle bunny. Thank God for the sickle cell, huh? Lockhart : Joker, I've told you we run two basic stories here. Grunts who give half their pay to buy gooks toothbrushes and deodorants - Winning Of Hearts and Minds.
And combat action which result in a kill - Winning the War. I don't ask much of you people but I do expect you to adhere to my editorial policy. Lockhart : You must have seen blood trails, drag marks? Private Joker : It was raining, sir. Lockhart : Well that's why God passed the law of probability.
Re-write it and give it a happy ending. One killed. Make it a sapper. Or an officer. Private Joker : Whichever you say. Lockhart : Grunts like reading about dead officers. Private Joker : Okay - an officer. How about a general? The Marine Corps Training Depot. An eight-week college for the phony tough and the crazy brave.
ARVN pimp : Do you want number one fuckee? Private Cowboy : Been getting any? Private Cowboy : Well, better my sister than my mom, and my mom ain't bad. Hartman : Ho Chi Minh is a son-of-a-bitch! Hartman : Got the blue balls, crabs and the seven-year-itch! Hartman : Well, no shit. What have we got here, a fucking comedian? I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you.
You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. Hartman : Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little communist shit twinkle-toed cocksucker down here, who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy fucking godmother said it! I will P. I'll P. Hartman : Private Joker, why did you join my beloved Corps? Hartman : So you're a killer!
Hartman : Then let me see your War Face! You got a War Face? Hartman : You still didn't convince me; work on it! Private Cowboy : Eightball, let's dance.
Private Eightball : Put a nigger behind the trigger! Gunnery Sergeant Hartman : Come on, guys. Assholes and elbows. Doc Jay : We can't leave him out there! Private Cowboy : We're not leaving. We'll get him when the tank comes up. Doc Jay : He's hit three fuckin' times, he can't wait that long! Private Cowboy : I've seen this before, that sniper is just trying to suck us in one at a time. Private Cowboy : [ Eightball is shot a fourth time by the sniper and screams ] No! Private Cowboy : Goddam it!
Goddamit cease fire! You can't see the sniper! Doc Jay : Man, fuck this! This self-praise comes in many forms…it can be accompanied by machismo or tears and can be verbal or nonverbal. Basically, this consists of anything that is an attempt to get you to acknowledge them or feel sorry for them. This is an attempt to get you to see them as good and beneficial.
A piece of shit who calls you their romantic partner will highlight all of the wonderful contributions they make to the relationship. Through this, they will manipulate you into getting what they want and attempting to keep you below them.
If someone is constantly telling you fantastic stories, it usually indicates intense insecurity. These stories tend to portray the piece of shit in a favorable light, so that you get thrown off the scent. Along with this is a strong tendency to lie. Pieces of shit are fantastic liars and have no remorse for telling exaggerating or even completely making up the truth.
These are the nine warning signs of how to tell if someone is a piece of shit. Please note that everyone is a piece of shit from time to time and that these rules are not set in stone. There is a huge difference between a piece of shit and someone who did something shitty.
When someone is nice to you, you assume that they want something from you. A ride. A phone number. Whenever you let yourself get excited over something, you end up disappointed.
So why bother? When your friends talk about how amazing their partners are, you secretly judge them for being so naive, for assuming that their relationship is actually going to last. When someone compliments you or does something out of the kindness of their heart, you have no idea how to react. In fact, you normally push the person away. You sleep for a longer amount of time than you spend awake. They think they have it bad? Wait until they hear your stories. You refuse to listen to love songs, the kind stuffed with cliche lyrics.
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