A Quote by Phil Robertson

Crawfish have ding dongs and vaginas. — © Phil Robertson
Crawfish have ding dongs and vaginas.

Quote Topics

Frank stared at her. "But you throw Ding Dongs at monsters." Iris looked horrified. "Oh, they're not Ding Dongs." She rummaged under the counter and brought out a package of chocolate covered cakes that looked exactly like Ding Dongs. "These are gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulations." "All natural!" Fleecy chimed in. "I stand corrected." Frank suddenly felt as queasy as Percy.
When I was six all I could think about was ding-dongs and yo-yos.
Tokyo's like a huge pinball machine. The first time you're there, and you don't understand what's going on, it's like 'ding ding ding ding ding' everywhere. The lights are changing, the neon lights are moving.
Ash sarcastically rang an invisible bell with his hand. "Ding, ding, ding. Give that boy a tropphy.
In springtime, the only pretty ring time Birds sing, hey ding A-ding, a-ding Sweet lovers love the spring—
Hostess Bakery plants shut down due to a workers' strike. It was split up. The State Department hired all the Twinkies, the Secret Service hired all the HoHos, the generals are sleeping with the Cupcakes and the voters sent all the Ding Dongs to Congress.
I kind of just lost track of laps. I couldn't hear a split. It was just so loud in here everyone was going nuts. I sort of felt like I was a little tired and I said, the people in front of me seem like they are falling off the lead pack a little bit. I should probably make a move. I hear ding, ding, ding, ding and I thought "oh crap! I've really got to go, I've got a lot left.
It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
The best I can do is, it's like a 'ding!' You're writing, and then something starts falling into place, and you hear or feel a ding. And it just feels - it's going to be okay.
My ding-a-ling, my ding-a-ling, won't you play with my ding-a-ling.
I like to eat crawfish and drink beer. That's despair?
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell.
The lakes in Washington State give us tons of crawfish.
A tiny dark object came sailing out of the window and landed at the giant's feet. Polybotes yelled, "Grenade!" He covered his face. His troops hit the ground. When the thing did not explode, Polybotes bent down cautiously and picked it up. He roared in outrage. "A Ding Dong? You dare insult me with a Ding Dong?" He threw the cake back at the shop, and it vaporized in the light.
I bet you're worried. I was worried. I was worried about vaginas. I was worried about what we think about vaginas, and even more worried that we don't think about them.
To love women, to love our vaginas, to know them and touch them and be familiar with who we are and what we need. To satisfy ourselves, to teach our lovers to satisfy us, to be present in our vaginas, to speak of them out loud, to speak of their hunger and pain and loneliness and humor, to make them visible so they cannot be ravaged in the dark without great consequence, so that our center, our point, our motor, our dream, is no longer detached, mutilated, numb, broken, invisible, or ashamed.
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