Joe Dirt (2001)
Clem: [talking to fire extinguisher] You're talking to me all wrong... It's the wrong tone. You do it again and I'll stab you in the face with a soldering iron. Hey, tell me, does your mother sew? BOOM. Get her to sew that!
Joe Dirt: [talking to himself while brushing hair in the mirror] People like that security guard. They don't really mean what they say. They just got their own issues and what not. Alls I got to do is keep bein' a good person. No matter what, good things'll come my way. Everything's gonna happen for me, just so long as I never have no in my heart.
[toilet flushes and man walks out of stall. Joe looks down awkwardly]
Joe Dirt: Right on. Things are gonna happen for me! I'm Joe Dirt!
Joe Dirt: Comin' to work. Joe Deertay.
KXLA Security Guard: Don't try and church it up son. Don't you mean Joe Dirt? Naming you that your father must've really hated you.
Joe Dirt: You're wrong brother.
KXLA Security Guard: I got a good name for this car, rusty.
Joe Dirt: Shit'll buff out.
KXLA Security Guard: Don't bother, just drive this piece of crap off a cliff. Do us all a favor.
Joe Dirt: Does this look like a piece of crap to you? Like them spinnin' tires do you?
KXLA Security Guard: You suck!
Joe Dirt: You do!
Joe Dirt: Well, I was born without the top of my skull and I guess a little bit of my brains was showin' and it was grossin' everybody out so my mom put this wig on me to cover it up and then the bones grew together and it got all infused and entwined. I mean I don't mean to get all scientific with you...
Joe Dirt: Why don't you go practice fallin' down? I'll be there in a minute.
Railroad Boy #1: You wanna fight you little queer?
Joe Dirt: Queer? Is this queer? These queer?
Joe Dirt: What's up? What's up?
Meteor Bert: Well, it ain't a meteor.
Joe Dirt: Yeah, it is. It came out of the sky.
Meteor Bert: Well I'm sure it did but it ain't no meteor. It's a big ol' frozen chunk o' shit.
Joe Dirt: What?
Meteor Bert: Oh yeah, see them airplanes they dump their toilets 36,000 feet. The stuff freezes and falls to earth. We call 'em Boeing bombs.
Joe Dirt: No, that can't be. That's not what it is.
Meteor Bert: Oh, afraid so. See that peanut? Dead giveaway.
Joe Dirt: Uhhh, no, that's a space peanut.
Meteor Bert: No, afraid not. That just a big ol' frozen chunk of poopy.
Studio manager: Dude, you were eating off it!
Robby: [Robby's car sprays Joe with rocks] Oh, Dirt, did I getcha?
Joe Dirt: No, I'm cool.
Robby: No, you're not.
Joe Dirt: Hey man, you done with that apple core?
Zeke: [farts] I'm done with that fart. You want that?
Joe Dirt: Maybe if it came out of Charlene Tilton's ass I'd take a bite.
Zeke: Yeah, you probably like JR you queer. I saw your bumper sticker: Cowboy's Butts Drive Me Nuts!
Joe Dirt: Is that right? You think that's queer? Is this queer?
Joe Dirt: They're large and in charge and lookin' for chickies.
Zeke: You wanna back that up?
Joe Dirt: You wanna fight? Why don't you stick your head up my butt and fight for air.
Zeke: That's it. You and me, let's go.
Joe Dirt: You know I'd love to beat your ass all up and down this place but I gotta go back to work.
Oil Rig Boss: Joe Dirt, your fired. Here's your week's pay.
Joe Dirt: Dang.
Joe Dirt: [Facing mirror] She's your sister dude she's gotta be and you made out with her man! What's wrong with you, you pervert!
[turns away from mirror]
Joe Dirt: Well I didn't know she was my sister when I kissed her, so it's not my fault. And she's one of the hottest girls on the planet.
[turns back to mirror]
Joe Dirt: You just said your sister's hot! What a fuhreak! You're goin' to hell man!
[turns away from mirror]
Joe Dirt: I gotta tell her what happened, why I got weird. And for god sakes, I gotta treat her like a sister.
[next scene, you hear them having sex]
Joe Dirt: If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?
Jill: Sure will. Do you wanna go back to my place?
Joe Dirt: Sure do.
Zander Kelly: Bob Seger? Come on, back then you were listenin' to Leif Garrett. It was probably more like this...
[flashback to a young Joe Dirt dancing to a Leif Garrett song]
Joe Dirt: Hell no, man I don't listen to that crap! I'm a rocker, dude through and through. Here's my favorite bands: AC/DC, Van Halen, not Van Hagar, Skynyrd, Def Lep.
Robby: You all right Dirt?
Joe Dirt: Yeah, I'm cool.
Robby: No you're not.
Zander Kelly: Now, you're telling me you were so ingrained with white trash DNA, your facial hair actually grows in on its own all white trashy like that?
Joe Dirt: So you're gonna tell me that you don't have no black cats, no Roman Candles, or screaming mimis?
Kicking Wing: No.
Joe Dirt: Oh come on, man. You got no lady fingers, fuzz buttles, snicker bombs, church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, zippity do das, or crap flappers?
Kicking Wing: No, I don't.
Joe Dirt: You're gonna stand there, ownin' a fireworks stand, and tell me you don't have no whistlin' bungholes, no spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker doos, hoosker don'ts, cherry bombs, nipsy daisers, with or without the scooter stick, or one single whistlin' kitty chaser?
Kicking Wing: No... because snakes and sparklers are the only ones I like.
Joe Dirt: Well that might be your problem, it's not what you like, it's the consumer.
Old Cajun Man: [In a muffled back water accent] Home is where you make it.
Joe Dirt: What?
Old Cajun Man: Home is where you make it.
Joe Dirt: You like to see homos naked?
Old Cajun man: Home is where you make it.
Joe Dirt: Oh.
Joe Dirt: Guy likes to see homos naked, that doesn't help me.
Buffalo Bob: It puts the lotion on it's skin or else it gets the hose again.
Joe Dirt: You guys got somethin' to say to me? Why don't you say it in the microphone. I got a backup mike right here. Check one two, testing, testing. Yup, they both workin' and guess what? They don't like no feedback, what's up?
[Trying to scrape Charlie the dog's testicles off the frozen porch]
Joe Dirt: Now, this ain't no flapjack, so I'm gonna be real careful, I won't look.
Joe Dirt: My name is Joe Dirte, I added an e to the end, cause it sounds cool.
[Joe falls off a swing]
Joe Dirt: And at that moment I thought I might just lie there and never get up. I would just sit there and rot there, but then I looked up and saw the moon and got this weird feeling that Brandi was looking up at that same moon. Then I realized I had a home all along, in Silvertown.
Joe Dirt: Well today I'm gonna be pickin' up my Hemi Roadrunner. That's right, I said Hemi.
Jill: Wow. A Hemi. Balls to the Wall.
Joe Dirt: Yep, left it at a friend's house.
[under his breath]
Joe Dirt: Actually, it got towed away two years ago.
Joe Dirt: But I'm pickin' it up this afternoon. I might need a pretty little lady to sit in the front seat while I break her in. The car I mean. So what do you say?
Jill: That's a big ten-four.
Joe Dirt: There are three rules when dealin' with a deadly alligator. And yes, they are deadly, don't kid yaself. Rule number one, I'm number one. Ya hear that, I like ta kid around. Rule two, the croc's number two. Now before I begin...
Kid at Gator Farm: Hey, what's rule three?
Joe Dirt: What's that? Kid, give me a break now.
Kid at Gator Farm: So you don't know rule three?
Joe Dirt: Yeah, you want a match? My face and your ass! How 'bout that friend? Huh? I mean, your ass and my face, what's up?
Joe Dirt: Here we go, I'm a bit of a crocophile, so don't try this at home. This here's Rocky, and he ain't no puppy. Now, let's see if Rocky's got some cavities.
[Joe opens Rocky's mouth]
Joe Dirt: This mofo knows not to mess with Sir Joseph Dirt.
[Joe puts his head inside Rocky's mouth, then screams as Rocky moves his head up and down thrashing Joe around]
Joe Dirt: [Rocky throws Joe out of his mouth as crowd laughs and cheers] Oh, when bad pets go bad, dang.
Joe Dirt: [Babbling nonsensically] It's like the cartoons, I'm seein' all "tweet tweet".
Charlene the Gator Farmer: Joe, what can I do fa you? Ya not makin' any sense.
Joe Dirt: Not makin'? Not makin'?
[Flashback to Joe's little sister in the car on their way to the Grand Canyon]
Joe's Little Sister: That's why Dad named you Joe Dirt instead of Nunamaker.
Joe Dirt: Nunamaker! Nunamaker! That's what my sister said on the way to the Grand Canyon! My last name's Dirt, her last name's Nunamaker! That's my parents' last name!
[when the dog starts humping Little Joe's leg]
Little Joe Dirt: Can I Push him off of me?
Joe Dirt's Foster Mother: He'll stop humping as soon as he's done.
Zander Kelly: God Almighty, from inbred heaven? Hey freak boy, 1976 called. It wants its hairstyle back.
Joe Dirt: And you'll be sticking your head out the window and check out chic dogs saying 'what's up, baby?'
Zander Kelly: What's the deal with your hair? You doing stunt work for Billy Ray Cyrus?
Joe Dirt: Well, I see you got those snakes and sparklers. But where's the good stuff man?
Kicking Wing: Good stuff? This is the good stuff, snakes and sparklers.
Joe Dirt: Are you nuts dude? You need stuff that'll explode. Go *boom*!
Kicking Wing: Why is that good?
Joe Dirt: Well, huh, might as, might as well ask why is a tree good? Why is the sunset good? Why are boobs good? Man, firecrackers, ya stick 'em in mailboxes, you drop 'em in toilets, shove 'em up bullfrogs asses.
Joe Dirt: You wanna fight? Why don't you stick your head up my ass and fight for air?
Zander Kelly: Don't you get it? Stinky stuff is your milieu. Okay? This is your deal. You are an underachievement nexus of the universe.
Chemistry Student: If my calculations are correct, this will create ice... OH NO, KILLER MUSTARD GAS!
Miss Clipper: Well, the puke pile's over there. It's a pretty big pile of puke.
Joe Dirt: Buffalo Bob's kind of a weird name, but people say Joe Dirt's a weird name and how cool am I?
Joe Dirt: [talking to Buffalo Bob] Hey to tell you the truth brother, between you and me, that thing with the dog is comin' off a little fruit-y. I mean that's just me talkin'. Hey, where's my supplies?
Buffalo Bob: [frustrated] Oh, for Christ's sake!
[Shoving down a basket]
Buffalo Bob: Here!
Joe Dirt: [squeal of delight] Wee, Auto Trader. Ooh August, I don't got this one.
Clem: Hey! You're talking to my guy all wrong. It's the wrong tone. Do it again, I'll stab you in the face with a soldering iron.
Robby: [Referring to Joe's Roadrunner] Least I know my car will blow his off the road!
Charlene the Gator Farmer: You really think you can match that slant 6 of yours against this 426 hemi? Huh? Well then let's do it little boy!
Clem: That's my girl!
Robby: Let's rock, Dirt-boy!
Joe Dirt: Let's go!
Robby: [Joe speeds off, leaving Robby in his dust] Damn.
Joe Dirt: You're saying you have no black cats, Roman candles or screaming meemies? Come on. You don't got no ladyfingers, buzz bottles, snicker bombs... church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, zippedy-doodas, crap flappers?
Kicking Wing: No, I don't.
Joe Dirt: You're gonna stand there, owning a fireworks stand... and say you have no whistling bungholes... spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, Hüsker Düs and don'ts. Cherry bombs, nipsy dazers, with or without the scooter stick... or one single whistling kitty-chaser?
Joe Dirt: [after finally finding his parents] I - I - I don't mean to interrupt your clown pitch there, but - but how exactly do you not go right back to the place where you saw me?
[the news crew goes baffled]
Joe's Dad: [sarcastically] Hey! How exactly is a rainbow made? How exactly does a sun set? How exactly does a posi-trac rear-end on a Plymouth work? It just does.
Joe's Mom: It just does.
Joe Dirt: [sternly] I'm not talking about a posi-trac; I'm talking about me. How long did you look for me before you gave up? How lone were you riding in that car before you realized I wasn't in it? Exactly how long?
[a few seconds of silence]
Joe's Dad: All right! We didn't lose him; we just left him. So what? The dude's doing fine! Look at him!
Joe's Mom: He look good.
Joe Dirt: [tearfully] Why did you do that to me? I was only eight years old - I was just a little kid. Do you have any idea what it's like to be a kid and have nobody around to talk to? No one that cares if you're alive or dead? Every day you just think you're worthless and there's a void in your life?
Joe's Mom: [chuckles] Oh, come on, honey.
Joe's Dad: Lighten up, buddy.
[Joe goes real upset]
Joe's Mom: [takes a clown figurine] Lose that frown. When you're down, stare at a clown.
[Joe stands up and takes it]
Joe's Dad: That's right, boy.
Joe's Mom: [hits him] Hey, sit down! Sit down! You're blocking the cameras! The cameras can't see!
Joe's Dad: Move over a bit!
Joe Dirt: [angrily breaks the clown to the wall] I don't care about that! AND I DON'T CARE ABOUT THIS!
Joe's Dad: Hey! What the hell are you doing?
[Joe walks up and kicks down a shelf of clowns destroying them all]
Joe Dirt: [leaves in tears] And I don't want to see you for another 25 years!
Reporter at Parent's House: [leaves with the crew] Joe, wait!
Joe's Mom: My God! Oh, my clowns! Look at my clowns! I wish he never found us! Look what he did to my children! Oh, no! Hey! Hey, TV people! Hey, TV people!
Joe's Dad: Hey, you're grounded! Where are you all going? Hey, come on! You don't have to follow him just because he's going!
Joe Dirt: People say Joe Dirt's a weird name, and how cool am I.
Joe Dirt: The guy doing the police sketches thought I was messing with him because my dad came out looking like Father Time and my mom came out looking too butch and looking way too much like Richard Ramirez. You know the Night Stalker, remember him?
Joe Dirt: [Narrating] I checked my list of Rambler Wagons, and there it was: Nunamaker. Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I was finally home.
Joe Dirt: [Joe comes up to his childhood house only to find it's been condemned] Sir? Hey mister! You know the people who live here, Nunamaker?
Old Cajun Man: [In a nasally, thick Louisiana accent] They move!
Joe Dirt: W-what's that?
Old Cajun Man: [Continues the thick, nasally Louisiana accent for rest of scene] Move! They move! 'bout... 15 yea' ago. Had a lil' boy. Had same kinda haircut you got na'.
Old Cajun Man: God da', you outta date boy.
Joe Dirt: Yeah, man, that little boy, that's me. My parent's were-this was my home. I though this was it this time.
Old Cajun Man: Nah, home is where you make it.
Joe Dirt: Ya like ta see homos naked?
Old Cajun Man: [repeats phrase, this time with a firmer tone of voice] Home is where you make it.
Joe Dirt: You like ta see homos naked, that's cool man, whatever.
Old Cajun Man: No no no no. Home is where you MAKE it. Home, where you make it.
Joe Dirt: Oh.
Old Cajun Man: Ev'body know dat. Goddamn, boy.
[Old Cajun Man walks away]
Joe Dirt: Guy likes to see homos naked, that doesn't help me.