A Quote by Mitch Hedberg

Mr. Pibb is a poor imitation of Dr. Pepper. Dude didn't even get his degree. — © Mitch Hedberg
Mr. Pibb is a poor imitation of Dr. Pepper. Dude didn't even get his degree.
The commercial for Diet Dr. Pepper says it tastes just like regular Dr. Pepper. Well, then they screwed up!
Fix yourself something to drink," she said. "I don't have any Mr. Pepper." "You mean Dr. Pepper?" "For the love of God!" She exploded. "People expect everything from a psychic! 'Doctor,' 'mister,' I was close enough. I didn't call it 'Mrs. Salt,' did I?
In medieval times the habit arose of expressing a man's wealth, no longer in terms of the amount of land in his estate, but of the amount of pepper in his pantry. One way of saying that a man was poor was to say that he lacked pepper. The wealthy lacked pepper. The wealthy kept large stores of pepper in their houses, and let it be known that it was there: it was a guarantee of solvency.
Sure must be a great consolation to the poor people who lost their stock in the late crash to know that it has fallen in the hands of Mr. Rockefeller, who will take care of it and see that it has a good home and never be allowed to wander around unprotected again. There is one rule that works in every calamity. Be it pestilence, war or famine, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. The poor even help arrange it.
And, whoa!" He turned to Mr.D. "Your the wine dude? No way!" Mr.D turned hi eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. "The wine dude?" "Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I've got your figurine!" "My figurine." "In my game, Mythomagic. And holofoil card, too! And even though you've only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks your the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!" "Ah." Mr.D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. "Well, that's...gratifying.
I can't do coffee, but I can do Dr. Pepper.
My first audition was for a Dr. Pepper commercial.
I did not enter the Labour Party 47 years ago to have our manifesto written by Dr Mori, Dr Gallup and Mr Harris
I starred in Dr. Pepper commercials and Buick ads.
He who has plenty of pepper will pepper his cabbage.
In the aftermath of the recent wave action in the Indian Ocean, even the archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williamson [sic], proved himself a latter-day Voltairean by whimpering that he could see how this might shake belief in a friendly creator. Williamson is of course a notorious fool, who does an almost perfect imitation of a bleating and frightened sheep, but even so, one is forced to rub one's eyes in astonishment. Is it possible that a grown man could live so long and still have his personal composure, not to mention his lifetime job description, upset by a large ripple of seawater?
His [Pitt's] successor as prime minister was Mr. Addington, who was a friend of Mr. Pitt, just as Mr. Pitt was a friend of Mr. Addington; but their respective friends were each other's enemies. Mr. Fox, who was Mr. Pitt's enemy (although many of his friends were Mr. Pitt's friends), had always stood uncompromisingly for peace with France and held dangerously liberal opinions; nevertheless, in 1804, Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt got together to overthrow Mr. Pitt's friend Mr. Addington, who was pushing the war effort with insufficient vigor.
It's funny because as much as I've done Dr. Freeman, I guess because I shave right afterwards, people don't recognize me necessarily as Dr. Freeman, whereas a small role like 'Garden State' or 'Get Him to the Greek', which is the funniest one to me, they're like, 'Hey, you're that dude!' and you're like, 'Oh my God!' Which is awesome.
I would love to see a debate on economics between Trump and Obama. Mr. 'Scholar,' Mr. Faculty Lounge Extraordinaire versus Mr. Real World Builder. I would love to see that. Obama wouldn't even get out his first sentence by the time Trump had given ten answers.
Never had a cup of coffee in my life. Dr Pepper is my caffeine delivery system of choice.
God alert!" Blackjack yelled. "It's the wine dude! Mr. D sighed in exasperation. "The next person, or horse, who calls me the 'wine dude' will end up in a bottle of Merlot!
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