Please use this thread to get rid of any Monty Python quotes in your head to prevent them appearing at random in other threads. Thankyou.
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Monty Python
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You have a problem with Cleese and Co. ? Better to quote them than it is to quote xenophobic idiots like our colleague in one of the other threads doing the rounds, surely ?
You lucky bastard, you lucky lucky bastard, Oh what I'd give to be spat at in the face - favouritism that's what it is
'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, our chief weapon is fear....and surprise. Our two weapons are Fear, surprise......and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope. Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as Fear, Surpise, almost fanantial devotion to the Pope and nice red uniforms....
Oh God, lets come in again....
Liv
The little wascal has spiwit? No spirit sir Stwike him vewy woughly centurian And throw him to the floor? yes fwow him to the fwar
Originally posted by Grigory Rasputin, the mad mystic of Petrograd 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
oh no...I wuz just wondering who wuz going to drag this particular one up from the swamp...... 
[can anybody transcribe the "ministry of silly walks" sketch into words for us? That would be a first.....]
Is this what you were looking for????
(A man dressed in suit complete with bowler hat comes into shop. He has a silly walk and keeps doing little jumps and then three long paces without moving the top of his body. He buys a paper, then we follow him as he leaves the shop.) Minister: 'Times' please.
Shopkeeper: Oh yes sir, here you are.
Minister: Thank you.
Shopkeeper: Cheers.
(The Minister leaves the shop, from which we see a line of gas men stretching back up the road to Mrs Pinnet,s house (as featured in the New Cooker Sketch), and walks off in an indescribably silly manner. Cut to him proceeding along Whitehall, and into a building labelled 'Ministry of Silly Walks'.)
(Inside the building he passes three other men, each walking in their own eccentric way.)
(Cut to an office; a man is sitting waiting. The minister enters eccentrically.)
Minister: Good morning. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but I'm afraid my walk has become rather sillier recently, and so it takes me rather longer to get to work. (sits at desk) Now then, what was it again?
Mr Pudey: Well sir, I have a silly walk and I'd like to obtain a Government grant to help me develop it.
Minister: I see. May I see your silly walk?
Mr Pudey: Yes, certainly, yes.
(He gets up and does a few steps, lifting the bottom part of his left leg sharply at every alternate pace. He stops.)
Minister: That's it, is it?
Mr Pudey: Yes, that's it, yes.
Minister: lt's not particularly silly, is it? I mean, the right leg isn't silly at all and the left leg merely does a forward aerial half turn every alternate step.
Mr Pudey: Yes, but I think that with Government backing I could make it very silly.
Minister: (rising) Mr Pudey, (he walks about behind the desk in a very silly fashion) the very real problem is one of money. I'm afraid that the Ministry of Silly Walks is no longer getting the kind of support it needs. You see there's Defence, Social Security, Health, Housing, Education, Silly Walks ... they're all supposed to get the same. But last year, the Government spent less on the Ministry of Silly Walks than it did on National Defencel Now we get £348,000,000 a year, which is supposed to be spent on all our available products. (he sits down) Coffee?
Mr Pudey: Yes please.
Minister: (pressing intercorn) Now Mrs Two-Lumps, would you bring us in two coffees please?
Intercom Voice: Yes, Mr Teabag.
Minister: ... Out of her mind. Now the Japanese have a man who can bend his leg back over his head and back again with every single step. While the Israelis... here's the coffee.
(Enter secretary with tray with two cups on it. She has a particularly jerky silly walk which means that by the time she reaches the minister there is no coffee left in the cups. The minister has a quick look in the cups, and smiles understandingly.)
Minister: Thank you - lovely. (she exits still carrying tray and cups) You're really interested in silly walks, aren't you?
Mr Pudey: Oh rather. Yes.
Minister: Well take a look at this, then.
(He products a projeaor from beneath his desk already spooled up and plugged in. He fiicks a switch and it beams onto the opposite wall. The film shows a sequence of six old-fashioned silly walkers. The film is old silent-movie type, scratchy, jerky and 8mm quality. All the participants wear 1900's type costume. One has huge shoes with soles a foot thick, one is a woman, one has. very long 'Little Tich' shoes. Cut back to office. The minister hurls the projeaor away. Along with papers and everything else on his desk. He leans foward.)
Minister: Now Mr Pudey. I'm not going to mince words with you. I'm going to offer you a Research Fellowship on the Anglo-French
Mr Pudey: La Marche Futile?
(Cut to two Frenchmen, wearing striped jerseys and berets, standing in a field with a third man who is entirely covered by a sheet.)
First Frenchman: Bonjour ... et maintenant ... comme d'habitude, au sujet du Le Marché Commun. Et maintenant, je vous presente, encore une fois, mon ami, le pouf célèbre, Jean-Brian Zatapathique. (he removes his moustache and sticks it onto the other Frenchman)
Second Frenchman: Merci, mon petit chou-chou Brian Trubshawe. Et maintenant avec les pieds à droite, et les pieds au gauche, et maintenant l'Anglais-Française Marche Futile, et voilà
(They unveil the third man and walk off He is facing to camera left and appears to be dressed as a city gent; then he turns about face and we see on his fight half he is dressed au style franfais. He moves off into the distance in eccentric speeded-up motion.)
courtesy of stone-dead.asn.au/main.html
Who'd have thought it 30 years ago - us sat here drinking Chateau de Chasalais? I can remeber the days we couldn't afford the price of a cup of Tea
Aye - a cup of cold tea
without milk or sugar
or tea
Aye remeber the days we used todrink out of cracked cup
Luxury - we used to have to drink out of rolled up newspaper.........Can't be arsed finishing the fucker...but I promise you I will soon
Posted for Shug, coz he's a lazy bastard
Eric Idle: Very fussable, isn't it? Very fussable.
All: Right, all right.
Graham Chapman: Good glass of Chƒteau de Chasselas, ain't just that, sire?
Terry Jones: Oh, you're right there, Obadiah.
Graham Chapman: Right.
Eric Idle: Who would have thought, thirty years ago, we'd all be sitting here drinking Chateau de Chaselet, eh?
All: Aye, aye.
Michael Palin: Them days we were glad to have the price of a cup of tea.
Graham Chapman: Right! A cup of cold tea!
Michael Palin: Right!
Eric Idle: Without milk or sugar!
Terry Jones: Or tea!
Michael Palin: In a cracked cup and all.
Eric Idle: Oh, we never used to have a cup! We used to have to drink out of a rolled-up newspaper!
Graham Chapman: The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
Terry Jones: But you know, we were happy in those days, although we were poor.
Michael Palin: Because we were poor!
Terry Jones: Right!
Michael Palin: My old dad used to say to me: "Money doesn't bring you happiness, son!"
Eric Idle: He was right!
Michael Palin: Right!
Eric Idle: I was happier then and I had nothing! We used to live in this tiny old tumbled-down house with great big holes in
the roof.
Graham Chapman: House! You were lucky to live in a house! We used to live in one room, all twentysix of us, no furniture,
half the floor was missing, we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of falling.
Terry Jones: You were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in the corridor!
Michael Palin: Oh, we used to dream of living in a corridor! Would have been a palace to us! We used to live in an old
watertank on a rubbish tip. We'd all woke up every morning by having a load of rotten fish dumped all over us! House, huh!
Eric Idle: Well, when I say a house, it was just a hole in the ground, covered by a sheet of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us!
Graham Chapman: We were evicted from our hole in the ground. We had to go and live in a lake!
Terry Jones: You were lucky to have a lake! There were 150 of us living in a shoebox in the middle of the road!
Michael Palin: A cardboard box?
Terry Jones: Aye!
Michael Palin: You were lucky! We lived for three months in a rolled-up newspaper in a septic tank! We used to have to go
up every morning, at six o'clock and clean the newspaper, go to work down the mill, fourteen hours a day, week in, week out,
for six pence a week, and when we got home, our dad would slash us to sleep with his belt!
Graham Chapman: Luxury! We used to have to get up out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a
handful of hot grubble, work twenty hours a day at mill, for two pence a month, come home, and dad would beat us around
the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were lucky!
Terry Jones: Well, of course, we had it tough! We used to have to get up out of the shoebox in the middle of the night, and
lick the road clean with our tongues! We had to eat half a handful of freezing cold grubble, work twenty-four hours a day at
mill for four pence every six years, and when we got home, our dad would slice us in two with a breadknife!
Eric Idle: Right! I had to get up in the morning, at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, eat a lump of cold
poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down mill and pay millowner for permission to come to work, and when we got home,
our dad would kill us and dance about on our graves, singing Hallelujah!
Michael Palin: Aah. Are you trying to tell the young people of today that, and they won't believe you!
All: No, no they won't!
Liv
Liv...
I had forgotten that one...it was, what was the word I saw you use? Stonking? Fooking brilliant these lads were...
You sad sad sad people!!!
Wait til I tell our Marty (a big Python fan) about this - he'll be back posting on this thread in no time!!!! 
Originally posted by Big Boy Tomato You sad sad sad people!!!Wait til I tell our Marty (a big Python fan) about this - he'll be back posting on this thread in no time!!!!
BBT - our Marty has mentioned the J word a few times - so he's probably off somewhere getting stoned (get it?) (fuck me I'm funny)
Yer out there on yer own mate.....and for the benefit of the rest of us, it's better left that way.....
FAREWELL TO JOHN DENVER:
And now, the sound of John Denver being strangled....
"You came on my pillow.....blagghhhhh"
Thank you.
Or, after reading a certain other thread...
FRENCH TAUNTER:
I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal, food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries.
I wave my private parts at your aunties, you brightly colored,mealy templed, cranberry smelling, electric donkey bottom biters.
I am NOT a looney !! Why should I be tarred with the epithet "looney" merely because I have a pet halibut called Eric ?
Albatross, Albatross, Albatross What flavour is it? It's not any fucking flavour, it's an Albatross, it's a fucking bird!!
Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;
...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.
Customer: Hello, I would like to buy a fish license, please. Shopkeeper: A what? C: A license for my pet fish, Eric. S: How did you know my name was Eric? C: No no no, my fish's name is Eric, Eric the fish. He's an halibut. S: What? C: He is...an...halibut. S: You've got a pet halibut? C: Yes. I chose him out of thousands. I didn't like the others, they were all too flat. S: You must be a looney. C: I am not a looney! Why should I be attired with the epithet looney merely because I have a pet halibut? I've heard tell that Sir Gerald Nabardo has a pet prawn called Simon (you wouldn't call him a looney); furthermore, Dawn Pailthorpe, the lady show-jumper, had a clam, called Stafford, after the late Chancellor, Allan Bullock has two pikes, both called Chris, and Marcel Proust had an haddock! So, if you're calling the author of 'A la recherche du temps perdu' a looney, I shall have to ask you to step outside! S: Alright, alright, alright. A license. C: Yes. S: For a fish. C: Yes. S: You are a looney. C: Look, it's a bleeding pet, isn't it? I've got a license for me pet dog Eric, and I've got a license for me pet cat Eric... S: You don't need a license for your cat. C: I bleeding well do and I got one. He can't be called Eric without it-- S: There's no such thing as a bloody cat license. C: Yes there is! S: Isn't! C: Is! S: Isn't! C: I bleeding got one, look! What's that then? S: This is a dog license with the word 'dog' crossed out and 'cat' written in in crayon. C: The man didn't have the right form. S: What man? C: The man from the cat detector van. S: The looney detector van, you mean. C: Look, it's people like you what cause unrest. S: What cat detector van? C: The cat detector van from the Ministry of Housinge. S: Housinge? C: It was spelt like that on the van (I'm very observant!). I never seen so many bleeding aerials. The man said that their equipment could pinpoint a purr at four hundred yards! And Eric, being such a happy cat, was a piece of cake. S: How much did you pay for this? C: Sixty quid, and eight for the fruit-bat. S: What fruit-bat? C: Eric the fruit-bat. S: Are all your pets called Eric? C: There's nothing so odd about that: Kemal Ataturk had an entire menagerie called Abdul! S: No he didn't! C: Did! S: Didn't! C: Did, did, did, did, did and did! S: Oh, all right. C: Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a fish license? S: I promise you that there is no such thing: you don't need one. C: In that case, give me a bee license. S: A license for your pet bee? C: Yes. S: Called Eric? Eric the Bee? C: No. S: No? C: No, Eric the Half-Bee. He had an accident. S: You're off your chump. C: Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquiallism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or indeed to deny the semi-existence of my little chum Eric the Half-Bee, I shall have to ask you to listen to this! Take it away, Eric the orchestra leader!.......
A one... two.... A one.. two.. three..four...
[piano intro]
Half a bee, philosophically, must, ipso facto, half not be. But half the bee has got to be, vis a vis its entity - do you see?
But can a bee be said to be or not to be an entire bee when half the bee is not a bee due to some ancient injury?
Singing...
La dee dee, 1 2 3, Eric the half a bee. A B C D E F G, Eric the half a bee.
Is this retched demi-bee, half asleep upon my knee, some freak from a menagerie? No! It's Eric the half a bee.
Fiddle dee dum, Fiddle dee dee, Eric the half bee.
Ho ho ho, Tee hee hee, Eric the half a bee.
I love this hive employee-ee-ee [with buzzing in background] bisected accidentally one summer afternoon by me I love him carnally.
He loves him carnally... [together] ...semi-carnally
[spoken]
The end
"Cyril Connelly?" No! "Semi-carnally" Oh!
Cyril Connelly [sung softly and slowly]
