The only thing as fun as watching a great movie is quoting a great movie. It’s a shortcut to shared feelings and a great way to gauge the coolness factor of potential friends. Here are some of the best quotes from movies in the 80s.
“I feel the need, the need for speed.” – Top Gun (1986)
My three best friends and I (we were nicknamed “The Brat Force” by…um…ourselves) used to say this a lot in Junior High School. Then we’d high five.
“Now you see that evil will always triumph, because good is dumb.” – Spaceballs (1987)
Great quote for when you win at a game. Or anytime, if you’re an icy, blackhearted evil mommy monster, like me.
“Go that way, really fast. If something gets in your way, turn .” – Better Off Dead (1985)
It’s just good advice.
“He slimed me.” – Ghostbusters (1984)
The perfect response to a doggie kiss.
“I’ll be back.” -The Terminator (1984)
The best way to announce that you’re going to the potty.
“They’re here.” – Poltergeist (1982)
It’s what I say when unwanted visitors arrive. If you hear that sing-song phrase coming from inside as you’re marching up to my front door…well, I probably don’t like you. Sorry. Or not. If I don’t like you, you’ve done something to deserve it.
“Why does Andrew get to get up? If he gets up, we’ll all get up. It’ll be anarchy!” – The Breakfast Club (1985)
Is it ever a bad time to say this?
“What’s happenin’ hot stuff?” – Sixteen Candles (1984)
I say this to Dave. You know why.
“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” – The Princess Bride (1987)
The best line to announce the start of a tickle fight.
“Cinderella story. Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac…It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!”– Caddyshack (1980)
I say it everytime we play golf. Every.Time. I can’t help it. It’s like movie-quote-specific-Tourrette’s Syndrome. Or maybe not (because I’m not sure that even makes sense). It’s just this thing I do that sometimes annoys people. I don’t think it’s a disorder of any kind. I don’t do it to be annoying. It’s actually fun if you’re the one doing the quoting. If you ever go golfing with me, I suggest you learn this in advance and just say it along with me. I’ll be very impressed with you and you won’t feel so annoyed with me. Everybody wins.
It’s here! (And at My Grimm Reality) All About The 80s Week! And we’re kicking it off with Tubular Television.
What were you watching on televison in the 80s?
I was 4 going on 5 in 1980. I spent most of the decade playing, rather than watching television and didn’t have the longest attention span. So, it only seems fitting that I show you five commercials from the 80s that left a permanent scar on the face of pop culture. Even if you didn’t see them in the 80s, chances are, you’re familiar with these gems or at least the catchphrases they produced.
“Where’s The Beef?”
Wendy’s “Fluffy Bun” commercial took television by storm in 1984 and earned 82 year old Clara Pellar celebrity status for her delivery of that famous line, “Where’s the beef?”
This invention of convenience came to us from the same minds that thought up the Chia Pet. I think that says it all.
The year was 1989 when we first heard the words, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” and elderly emergencies became amusing. The phrase garnered so much attention that LifeCall registered it as a trademark in the early 90s.
Before we “Got Milk” we had “It does the body good.” Here’s one of my favorites from the late 80s.
This Is Your Brain On Drugs
The Partnership for a Drug-Free America was founded in 1986, but most of us found out about them through the “This Is Your Brain On Drugs” public service announcements broadcast in 1987.
Can’t get enough 80s commercials? Be sure to visit GIANT Magazine’s 50 Greatest Commercials of the 80s.
Don’t let the day end before you click over to My Grimm Reality for the top 20 television shows of the 80s!
Do you want to play, too? Let us know about your 80s post this week and we’ll link you up!
Did you hear that sound? It was me. Falling off the dieting bandwagon.
It started yesterday morning with the most delicious breakfast bake I’d ever made. I had a serving. And then another. And then one more. A little later, I thought it would be fun to make some homemade cookies. I had one. And then another. And then one more.
And that’s just the stuff I’m admitting to eating, yesterday.
By the time bedtime rolled around, I wasn’t feeling too good. My body decided to exact it’s revenge for blowing our plans to get healthy and lose weight by blowing all that food right out of my body.
So, I’ve been sick. And I drug the rest of the family down with me.
I am from pony tails, bare feet and lightning bug jars. From Kool-Aid and midnight picnics during meteor showers.
I am from the four room house with a jolly blue bunny wearing a pink bow painted on the wall of the dining room that was made into my bedroom. I am from a tattered doll suitcase hidden under the bed, stuffed with toys to be forgotten and rediscovered again. From chalkboard comic strip drawings narrated through giggles by flashlight after dark.
I am from the Butternut tree, the yellow-green catkins and downy leaves. From daisychain necklaces and dandelion bouquets. I am from berry picking walks along railroad tracks and water from a natural spring.
I am from Sunday afternoons at Grandma’s house and homemade clothes. From a pastor, laborers and military men. I am from storytellers and dreamers.
From “I love you” and “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.”
I am from Sunday School, The Lord’s Prayer and “The Old Rugged Cross.” I’m from a riverside town in Pennsylvania and from Irish and Germans. From noodles made from scratch, fresh vegetables from our garden and my father’s famous “dodgers.”
From the fiery spirit of my red-haired grandmother who chased after a teacher with a chair for punching her son, from the stubbornness and the determination of the grandfather who refused to stop eating his oatmeal even when he was told that bugs had gotten into it.
I am from the photo albums I looked through on my great-grandmother’s lap with pages that crackled with every turn, and silent 8mm films of Thanksgiving and Christmas. From patchwork quilts, recipes scrawled on brittle paper and from delicate jewelry – worth millions in memories, but nothing in dollars – tucked carefully in a worn brown box and deep within my heart.
* Submitted to the writing contest sponsored by Owlhaven. Visit her to learn more.
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