Mitch Hedberg Cutting Quotations

Y'know I order a club sandwhich all the time. And I'm not even a member. I don't know how I get away with it. I like my sanwhiches witth three peices of bread. So do I. Lets form a club. Okay, but we're gonna need more stipulation. Yes we do. Instead of cutting it once, lets cut it again. Yeah, four triangles. And we shall dump chips in the middle. Let me ask you something, how do you feel about frilly toothpicks? I'm for them.

I ordered a club sandwich, but I'm not even a member. "I like my sandwiches with three pieces of bread." "Well, so do I!" "Then let's form a club." "OK, but we need some more stipulations. Instead of cutting the sandwich once, let's cut it again. Yes, four triangles, arranged in a circle, and in the middle we will dump chips." "How do you feel about frilly toothpicks?" "I'm for 'em!" "Well, this club is formed."

Incubated. And then raised. And then beheaded. And then plucked. And then cut up. And then put on a grill. And then put on a bun. Damn, it's gonna take a while. I don't have time. Scrambled!

Onions make me sad, a lot of people don't realize that. When I'm cutting onions, I'm sad. Because the plight of onions, it's sad. But people don't realize I'm actually crying - they think I'm just reacting.

You know they call corn-on-the-cob, "corn-on-the-cob", but that's how it comes out of the ground. They should just call it corn, and every other type of corn, corn-off-the-cob. It's not like if someone cut off my arm they would call it "Mitch", but then re-attached it, and call it "Mitch-all-together".

I think we should only get 3 honks a month on the car horn. Then, someone cuts you off, you press the horn, and nothing happens. You're like, "Crap! I wish I hadn't seen Ricky on the sidewalk!"

I think Pringles initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid back company. They said, "Screw it. Cut 'em up!"

I was at a restaurant, and I ordered a chicken sandwich, but I don't think the waitress understood me. She asked me, "How would you like your eggs?" I thought I would answer her anyway and said, "Incubated! And then raised, plucked, beheaded, cut up, put onto a grill, and then put onto a bun. Damn! I don't have that much time! Scrambled!"