Dangerfield favorite 1-liners

[drbabe]

Here you go, folks: excerpted from Rodney Dangerfield's autobiography (which wasn't that good a read):


I like to date schoolteachers. If you do something wrong, they make you do it over again.

I live in a tough neighborhood. They have a children’s zoo. Last week, four kids escaped.
….tough neighborhood. The restaurant serves broken leg of lamb.

My parents sent me to a child psychiatrist. That kid didn’t help me at all.

My wife told me the car has water in the carburetor. “Where’s the car?” She said, “In a lake.”

I told my mother I was gonna run away. She said, “On your mark…”

I asked my wife, “Last night, were you faking it?” She said, “No, I was really sleeping.”
My dog watches me in the bedroom. He wants to learn how to beg. He taught my wife how to roll over and play dead.
I was an ugly kid. My mother breast-fed me through a straw.
Here’s another problem with getting older. I took out an older woman the other night. I said “Act your age.” She died.

I tell ya, I know I’m ugly. My proctologist stuck his finger in my mouth.

I know I’m ugly. My dog closes his eyes before he humps my leg.

I figured out I’m bisexual. I have sex twice a year.
You wanna really confuse a guy? Join him while he’s taking a leak in the street.
We were poor, too. If I wasn’t born a boy, I’d have had nothing to play with.

Don’t make fun of her, she’s attached to a machine that keeps her alive—the refrigerator.

She can’t cook at all—in my backyard the flies all chipped in to fix the screen door.

I’m not a kid anymore. I could go tomorrow. And I hope I go tomorrow. I haven’t gone today yet.

How does a blind person know when he’s done wiping his ***?

My doctor asked for a urine sample, a stool sample, and a semen sample. So I left my underwear and went home.
You know you’re getting old when your insurance company sends you half a calendar.
I know I’m getting old. When I masturbate I get tired holding up the magazine.

I asked my doctor: “What’s the difference between an oral thermometer and a rectal thermometer?” He told me, “The taste.”