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"A way out west there was a fella, fella I want to tell you about, fella by the name of Jeff Lebowski. At least, that was the handle his lovin' parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. This Lebowski, he called himself the Dude. Now, Dude, that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then, there was a lot about the Dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. And a lot about where he lived, like- wise. But then again, maybe that's why I found the place s'durned innarestin'. They call Los Angeles the City of Angels. I didn't find it to be that exactly, but I'll allow as there are some nice folks there. 'Course, I can't say I seen London, and I never been to France, and I ain't never seen no queen in her damn undies as the fella says. But I'll tell you what, after seeing Los Angeles and thisahere story I'm about to unfold-- wal, I guess I seen somethin' ever' bit as stupefyin' as ya'd see in any a those other places, and in English too, so I can die with a smile on my face without feelin' like the good Lord gypped me. Now this story I'm about to unfold took place back in the early nineties-- just about the time of our conflict with Sad'm and the Eye-rackies. I only mention it 'cause some- times there's a man--I won't say a hee-ro, 'cause what's a hee-ro?--but sometimes there's a man. And I'm talkin' about the Dude here-- sometimes there's a man who, wal, he's the man for his time'n place, he fits right in there--and that's the Dude, in Los Angeles. And even if he's a lazy man, and the Dude was certainly that--quite possibly the laziest in Los Angeles County, which would place him high in the runnin' for laziest worldwide--but sometimes there's a man. . . sometimes there's a man.
Wal, I lost m'train of thought here.
But--aw hell, I done innerduced him enough."



Dude: You thought Bunny'd been kidnapped and you could use it as a pretext to make some money disappear. All you needed was a sap to pin it on, and you'd just met me. You thought, hey, a deadbeat, a loser, someone the square community won't give a shit about.
Lebowski: Well? Aren't you?
Dude: Well. . . yeah.

Donny: Your phone's ringing, Dude.
Dude: Thank you, Donny.

Tony: -So he says, "My son can't hold a job, my daughter's married to a fuckin' loser, and I got a rash on my ass so bad I can't hardly siddown. But you know me. I can't complain.
Dude: Fuckin' A, man. I got a rash. Fuckin' A, man.

The Stranger: One a those days, huh. Wal, a wiser fella than m'self once said, sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes the bar, wal, he eats you.
Dude: Uh-huh. That some kind of Eastern thing?

Dude: How's the smut business Jackie?
Treehorn: I wouldn't know, Dude. I deal in publishing, entertainment, political advocacy, and-
Dude: Which one was Logjammin'?
Treehorn: Regrettably, it's true, standards have fallen in adult entertainment. It's video, Dude. Now that we're competing with the amateurs, we can't afford to invest that little extra in story, production value, feeling. People forget that the brain is the biggest erogenous zone-
Dude: On you, maybe.

Dude: I'm not a--ah, fuck it, just stay away from my fucking lady friend, man.
Da Fino: Hey hey, I'm not messing with your special lady--
Dude: She's not my special lady, she's my fucking lady friend. I'm just helping her conceive, man!

Maude: What do you do for recreation?
Dude: Oh, the usual. Bowl, drive around. The occasional acid flashback.

Maude: You can imagine where it goes from here.
Dude: He fixes the cable?
Maude: Don't be fatuous, Jeffrey.

Dude: Fuck sympathy! I don't need your fuckin' sympathy, man, I need my fucking johnson!
Donny: What do you need that for, Dude?

Walter: You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don't wanna know about it, believe me.
Dude: Yeah, but Walter--
Walter: Hell, I can get you a toe by 3 o'clock this afternoon--with nail polish.

Walter: I'm saying, I see what you're getting at, Dude, he kept the money. My point is, here we are, it's shabbas, the sabbath, which I'm allowed to break only if it's a matter of life or death--
Dude: Will you come off it, Walter? You're not even fucking Jewish, man.
Walter: What the fuck are you talkin' about?
Dude: Man, you're fucking Polish Catholic--
Walter: What the fuck are you talking about? I converted when I married Cynthia! Come on, Dude!
Dude: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah--
Walter: And you know this!
Dude: Yeah, and five fucking years ago you were divorced.
Walter: So what are you saying? When you get divorced you turn in your library card? You get a new license? You stop being Jewish?
Dude: It's all a part of your sick Cynthia thing, man. Taking care of her fucking dog. Going to her fucking synagogue. You're living in the fucking past.
Walter: Three thousand years of beautiful tradition, from Moses to Sandy Koufax-- YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I'M LIVING IN THE FUCKING PAST!

Dude: And, you know, he's got emotional problems, man.
Walter: You mean... beyond pacifism?

Donny: Are these the Nazis, Walter?
Walter: No, Donny, these men are nihilists. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Dude: What's in the fuckin' carrier?
Walter: Huh? Oh, that's Cynthia's dog. I think it's a Pomeranian. I can't leave him home alone or he eats the furniture. I'm watching him while Cynthia and Marty Ackerman are in Hawaii.
Dude: You brought the fuckin' Pomeranian bowling?
Walter: What do you mean brought it bowling, Dude? I didn't rent it shoes. I'm not buying it a fucking beer. He's not taking your fucking turn, Dude.
Dude: Man, if my fuckin' ex-wife asked me to take care of her fuckin' dog while she and her boyfriend went to Honolulu I'd tell her to go fuck herself.

Dude: Nobody calls me Lebowski. You got the wrong guy. I'm the Dude, man.
Carpet Pisser: Your name's Lebowski, Lebowski. Your wife is Bunny.
Dude: My...my wi, my wife, Bunny? Do you see a wedding ring on my finger? Does this place look like I'm fucking married? The toilet seat's up, man!

Walter: Fucking Germans. Nothing changes. Fucking Nazis.
Donny: They were Nazis, Dude?
Walter: Oh, come on Donny, they were threatening castration!

Brandt: Mr. Lebowski is prepared to make a generous offer to you to act as courier, once we get instructions for the money.
Dude: Why me, man?
Brandt: He believes the culprits might be the very people who, uh, soiled your rug, and you are in a unique position to confirm or disconfirm that suspicion.
Dude: He thinks the carpet pissers did this?

Jesus: Let me tell you something pendejo, you pull any of your crazy shit with us, you flash your piece out on the lanes, I'll take it away from you and stick it up your ass and pull the fucking trigger 'till it goes click.
Dude: Jesus.
Jesus: You said it man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus.

The Stranger: Do you have to use so many cuss words?
The Dude: What the fuck you talking about?

Lebowski: Isn't that what makes a man?
Dude: Mmm, sure. That and a pair of testicles.

Bunny: I'll suck your cock for a thousand dollars.
Brandt: Ah ha ha ha ha! Wonderful woman. Very free-spirited. We're all very fond of her.
Bunny: Brandt can't watch, though, or he has to pay a hundred.
Brandt: Ah ha ha ha. That's marvelous.
Dude: Uh, I'm, uh just going to find a cash machine...

Maude: Does the female form make you uncomfortable, Mr. Lebowski?
Dude: Uh, is that what this is a picture of?
Maude: In a sense, yes. My art has been commended as being strongly vaginal which bothers some men. The word itself makes some men uncomfortable. Vagina.
Dude: Oh yeah?
Maude: Yes, they don't like hearing it and find it difficult to say whereas without batting an eye a man will refer to his dick or his rod or his Johnson.
Dude: Johnson?

Maude: Do you like sex, Mr. Lebowski?
Dude: 'Scuse me?
Maude: Sex. The physical act of love. Coitus. Do you like it?
Dude: I was talking about my rug.
Maude: You're not interested in sex?
Dude: You mean coitus?

Walter: Donny, were you listening to The Dude's story?
Donny: What?
Walter: Were you listening to The Dude's story?
Donny: No, I was bowling.
Walter: So you have no point of reference, Donny. You're like a child that wanders INTO THE MIDDLE OF A MOVIE!
Dude: What's your point, Walter?!
Donny: Yeah, Walter, what's your point?

Dude: Well, just take 't easy, man.
Walter: I'm perfectly calm, Dude.
Dude: Yeah? Wavin' a gun around?!
Walter: Calmer than you are.
Dude: Just take it easy, man!
Walter: Calmer than you are.

Walter: We can't do that, Dude. That fucks up our plan.
Dude: Well call them up and explain it to 'em, Walter! Your plan is so fucking simple, I'm sure they'd fucking understand it! That's the beauty of it Walter!


That's a great plan, Walter. That's fuckin' ingenious, if I understand it correctly. It's a Swiss fuckin' watch.

Everything's a fuckin' travesty with you, man!

Fortunately, I'm adhering to a pretty strict, uh, drug, uh, regimen to keep my mind, you know, uh, limber.

Mr. Treehorn treats objects like women.

Well, I still jerk off manually.

Fuck it, man. Let's go bowling.

You're not wrong, Walter, you're just an asshole.

Yeah well, that's just, ya know, like, your opinion, man.

Well, no, not exactly. It's a complicated case, Maude. Lotta ins. Lotta outs. And a lotta strands to keep in my head, man. Lotta strands in old Duder's--

Fuckola, man.

I accept your apology. . . No I, I just want to handle it myself from now on. . . No. That has nothing to do with it. . . .Yes, it made it home, I'm calling from home. No, Walter, it didn't look like Larry was about to crack. Well that's your perception. . . Well you're right, Walter, and the unspoken Message is FUCK YOU AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. . . Yeah, I'll be at practice.

No funny stuff, Jackie. . . the kid's got it. Hiya, fellas. . . kid just wanted a car. All the Dude ever wanted. . . was his rug back. . . not greedy. . . it really.

They finally did it. They killed my fucking car.


Saturday, Donny, is shabbas, the Jewish day of rest. That means I don't work, I don't drive a car, I don't fucking ride in a car, I don't handle money, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don't fucking roll!

Nihilists! Fuck me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos.

Fucking dipshit with a nine toed woman.

You're entering a world of pain.

This is what happens when you FUCK A STRANGER IN THE ASS!

I told that kraut a fuckin' thousand times I don't roll on shabbos!

HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY? AM I THE ONLY ONE HERE WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE RULES? MARK IT ZERO!
I'm as Jewish as fucking Tevye.


Donny: I am the Walrus.
Walter: Shut the fuck up, Donny! V.I. Lenin! Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov!
Donny: What the fuck is he talking about?

Donny: They posted the next round of the tournament--
Walter: Donny, shut the f--when do we play?

Walter: He lives in North Hollywood on Radford, near the In-and-Out Burger--
Dude: The In-and-Out Burger is on Camrose.
Walter: Near the In-and-Out Burger--
Donny: Those are good burgers, Walter.
Walter: Shut the fuck up, Donny.

Dude: Fuckin' Quintana... that creep can roll, man.
Walter: Yeah, but he's a pervert, Dude.
Dude: Yeah.
Walter: No, he's a sex offender. With a record. He served 6 months in Chino for exposing himself to an eight year old.
Dude: Oh!
Walter: When he moved to Hollywood he had to go door to door to tell everyone he was a pederass.
Donny: What's a... pederass, Walter?
Walter: Shut the fuck up, Donny.

Donny: We'll be near the In-and-Out Burger.
Walter: Shut the fuck up, Donny. We'll, uh, brace the kid--he'll be a pushover. We'll get that fucking money, if he hasn't spent it already. Million fucking clams. And yes, we'll be near the, uh--some burgers, some beers, a few laughs. Our fucking troubles are over, Dude.


I'll say a few words. Donny was a good bowler, and a good man. He was. . . He was one of us. He was a man who loved the outdoors, and bowling, and as a surfer explored the beaches of southern California from Redondo to Calabassos. And he was an avid bowler. And a good friend. He died--he died as so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom you took him, Lord. As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364. These young men gave their lives. And Donny too. Donny who. . . who loved bowling. And so, Theodore--Donald--Karabotsos, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your mortal remains to the bosom of the Pacific Ocean, which you loved so well. Goodnight, sweet prince.

Walter: That's fucking exactly what happened, Dude! That makes me fucking SICK!
Dude: Yeah, well, what do you care, Walter?
Donny: Yeah Dude, why is Walter so pissed off?
Walter: Those rich fucks! This whole fucking thing-- I did not watch my buddies die face down in the muck so that this fucking strumpet--
Dude: I don't see any connection to Vietnam, Walter.
Walter: Well, there isn't a literal connection, Dude.
Dude: Walter, face it, there isn't any connection.

This is not Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.

Walter: Look, Larry. . . Have you ever heard of Vietnam?
Dude: Oh, for Christ's sake, Walter!

Dude: What about that shit about Vietnam!
Walter: Dude, I'm sorry-
Dude: What the fuck does Vietnam have to do with anything! What the fuck were you talking about?!
Walter: Shit Dude, I'm sorry--
Dude: You're a fuck, Walter!
Walter: Awww, fuck it Dude. Let's go bowling.

Waitress: Could you please keep your voices down--this is a family restaurant.
Walter: Oh, please dear! I've got news for you: the Supreme Court has roundly rejected prior restraint!
Dude: Walter, this isn't a First Amendment thing.
Waitress: Sir, if you don't calm down I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
Walter: Lady, I got buddies who died face-down in the muck so you and I could enjoy this family restaurant!
Dude: All right, I'm leaving. I'm sorry ma'am.
Walter: Don't run away from this, Dude! Goddamnit, this affects all of us!... Our basic freedoms!... I'm staying. Finishing my coffee... Finishing my coffee.


Jesus: What's this day of rest shit? What's this bullshit? I don't fuckin' care! It don't matter to Jesus. But you're not foolin' me, man. You might fool the fucks in the league office, but you don't fool Jesus. This bush league psyche-out stuff. Laughable, man -- ha ha! I was gonna fuck you in the ass Saturday. I fuck you in the ass next Wednesday instead. Wooo! You got a date Wednesday, baby!

Nihilist: I fuck you in the ass, I fuck you in the ass, I fuck you, I fuck you, I fuck you, I fuck --

The Stranger: I guess that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' itself.

Donny: I am the walrus.

Lebowski: Sure! Fuck it! That's your answer! Tattoo it on your forehead! Your answer to everything! Your "revolution" is over, Mr. Lebowski! Condolences! The bums lost! My advice is, do what your parents did! Get a job, sir! The bums will always lose-- do you hear me, Lebowski? THE BUMS WILL ALWAYS--

Bunny: Dieter doesn't care about anything. He's a nihilist.

Lebowski: Strong men also cry... strong men also cry.

Dieter: Vee belief in nossing, Lebowski! NOSSING!!

Dieter: I FUCK YOU! YOU CANNOT HURT ME! I BELIEF IN NUSSING!

Maude: He's a good man, and thorough.

The Stranger: Darkness warshed over the Dude-darker'n a black steer's tookus on a moonless prairie night. There was no bottom.


Return to...
"I don't know about you, but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there, the Dude, takin' her easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes The finals. Welp, that about does her, wraps her all up. Things seem to've worked out pretty good for the Dude'n Walter, and it was a purt good story, dontcha think? Made me laugh to beat the band. Parts, anyway. Course--I didn't like seein' Donny go. But then, happen to know that there's a little Lebowski on the way. I guess that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' it-self, down through the generations, westward the wagons, across the sands a time until-- aw, look at me, I'm ramblin' again. Wal, uh hope you folks enjoyed yourselves. Catch ya further on down the trail. Say friend, ya got any more a that good sarsaparilla?"