Seinfeld Monologues

:D Here are some of the best Seinfeld monologues.
It's long but it's worth it. :D

My parents took me to Amish country, which to a kid, to see a bunch of people that have no cars, no TV, no phone you go, "So what? Neither do I." Who wants to see a whole community that's been grounded? That's the way they should punish the kids after they've seen Amish country. "All right son, get up to your room. That's it, I've had it, you are Amish, young man. For the rest of this weekend. Did you hear me? Amish! And don't come down till you've made some noodles and raised a barn."

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Any day that you had gym was a weird school day. It started off kind of normal. You had English, Geometry, Social Studies, and then suddenly you're in Lord of the Flies for forty minutes. you're hanging from a rope, you have hardly any clothes on. Teachers are yelling at you, "Where's your jockstrap?!" Kids are throwing dodge balls at you, snapping towels - you're trying to survive. And then it's History, Science, Language.
There's something off in the whole flow of that day.
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I had a parakeet when I was a kid. That was the only pet I really enjoyed. We used to let him out of his cage and he would fly around, crash into those huge mirrors my mother had put up. Have you ever heard of this interior design principle, that a mirror makes it seem like you have an entire other room? What kind of a jerk walks up to a mirror and goes, "Hey look, there's a whole other room in there. There's a guy in there that looks just like me."
But the parakeet would fall for this. I'd let him out of his cage, he'd fly around the room and, BANG! With his little head, right into the mirror. And I'd always think, "Even if he thinks the mirror is another room, why doesn't he at least try to avoid hitting the other parakeet?"

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As a kid, the only thing I really cared about was candy. Candy is the only reason you want to live when you're a kid. Ages zero through ten, candy is your life, there's nothing else. Family, friends, school.....they're only obstacles in the way of getting more candy. And you have your favourite candies that you love. Kids actually believe they can distinguish between 21 different versions of pure sugar.
Only a seven year old kid can actually taste the difference. When I was a kid, I could taste the difference between different color M&Ms. I thought they were different. For example, I thought the red was heartier, more of a main course M&M. And the light brown was a mellower, kind of an after-dinner M&M.

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I have no plants in my house. They won't live for me. Some of them don't even wait to die, they commit suicide. I once came home found one hanging from a macramé noose, the pot kicked out from underneath. The note said, "I hate you and your albums."

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Sometimes you go to a nice restaurant, they put the check in the little book. What is this, the story of the bill?
"Once upon a time somebody ordered a salad."
There's a little gold tassel hanging down. Am I graduating from the restaurant? Should I put this on the rearview mirror of my Camaro?

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The thing I don't understand about the suicide person is that people who try to commit suicide, for some reason don't die, and that's it. They stop trying. Why don't they just keep trying? What's changed? Is their life any better now? No, in fact, it's worse, because now they've found out: "Here's one more thing I stink at." And that's why these people don't succed at life to begin with. They give up too easy.
I say, pills don't work? Try a rope. Car won't start in the garage? Get a tune-up. There's nothing more rewarding than reaching a goal you've set for yourself.
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I will never understand why they cook on TV.
I can't smell it.
Can't eat it.
Can't taste it.
The end of the show they hold it up to the camera, "Well, here it is. You can't have any. Thanks for watching. Goodbye."

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The main difference between the man's wallet and the woman's wallet is the photo section.Women carry with them a photograph of every person they've ever met every day in their whole life since the beginning of time. And every picture's out of date. "Here's my cousin, 3 years old, she's in the Marines now. This is my dog, he died during the Carter administration." They get stopped by a cop, no licence and registration. "Here's my fifty-six people who know me." Cop goes, "Alright ma'am, just wanted to make sure you had some friends. Move it along.....Routine pal check."

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There are many different jobs for cops these days. It seems to me that Chalk Outline Guy is one of the better jobs you can get. It's not too dangerous, the criminals are long gone - that seems like a good one.
I don't know who these guys are. I guess they're people who wanted to be sketch artists but they couldn't draw to well. "Uh, listen Johnson, forget the sketches, do you think if we left the dead body right there on the sidewalk, you could manage to trace around it? Could you do that?"
I don't even know how that helps them solve the crime. They look at the thing on the ground, "Oh, his arm was like that when he hit the pavement, that means the killer must have been..........Bob!"

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Then there's the psychiatrist. Why is that with the psychiatrist every hour is only fifty minutes? What do they do with the ten minutes that they have left? Do they just sit there going, "Boy that guy was crazy. I couldn't believe the things he was saying. What a nut. Who's coming in next? Oh no, another head case."

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Talk-show hosts never seem to have any idea how much time is left in the show, you know? They're always looking off camera, "Do we have time? Are we out of time? How are we doing on time?"
You never see Magnum P.I go, "Should I strangle this guy or are we gonna take a break here? Can you stay for another beating? I'll tell you what, I'll bop him in the head, we'll do a commercial, we'll come back, I'll drive in the car real fast. Stay with us."

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Frankly, I don't believe people think of their office as a workplace anyway. I think they think of it as a stationery store with Danish. You want to get your pastry, your envelopes, your supplies, your toilet paper, six cups of coffee, and you go home.

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I'm on the plane, we left late, and the pilot says, "We're going to be making up some time in the air." I thought, "Isn't that interesting. They just make up time." That's why you have to reset your watch when you land.
Of course, when they say they're making up time, obviously they're incresing the speed of the aircraft. Now my question is, if you can go faster, why don't you just go as fast as you can all the time? "Come on, they're no cops up here! Nail it! Give is some gas! We're flying!"

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I was in front of an ambulance the other day, and I noticed that the word ambulance was spelled in reverse print on the hood of the ambulance. And I thought, "Well isn't that clever." I look in the rearview mirror, I can read the word ambulance behind me. Of course while you're reading, you don't see where you're going, you crash, and you need an ambulance. I think maybe they're just trying to drum up some business on the way back from lunch.

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It seems to me the way they design the car alarm, that the car will behave as if it were a nervous, hysterical person. Anyone goes near it, anyone disturbs it, it just goes, "Waahaahaahaah!" Lights flashing on and off, acting all crazy. Not everyone wants to draw that much attention to themselves. Wouldn't it be nice if you could have a car alarm that was a little more subtle?
Somebody tries to break in the car and it goes. "Uh, ahem. Ahem. Excuse me?"
I would love a car alarm like that.

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It's tough to do a good deed. Let's look at your professional good-deed doers, your Lone Rangers, your Supermen, your Batmen, your Spidermen. They're all wearing disguises, masks over their faces, secret identities. They don't want people to konw who they are. Too much aggravation. "Superman, yeah thanks for saving my life, but did you have to come through my wall? I'm renting here. They've got a security deposit. Now what am I supposed to do?"

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Somebody just gave me a shower radio. Thanks a lot. Do you really want music in the shower? I guess there's no better place to dance than a slick surface next to a glass door!

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I would say the concept behind the car phone, and the phone machine, the speaker phone, the airline phone, the portable phone, the pay phone, the cordless phone, the multi-line phone, the phone pager, the call waiting, the call forwarding, call conferencing, speed dialing, direct dialing, and the redialing, is that we all have absolutely nothing to say, and we've got to talk to someone about it right now. Cannot wait another second!
I mean come on, you're at home you're on the phone, you're in the car you're makin' calls, you get to work, "Any messages for me?" You've got to give people a chance to miss you a little bit!

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There is no easy way to break off any relationahip. It's like the mozzarella cheese on a good slice of pizza. No matter how far you pull the slice away from your mouth it just gets thinner and longer but never snaps. Of course you could always just eat your pizza with a knife and fork, but I think this is clearly what's known as "pushing the cheese analogy."

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Women need to like the job of the guy they're dating. If they don't like the job, they don't like the guy. Men know this, which is why we make up the phony bogus names for the jobs we have. "Well right now I'm the regional management supervisor. I'm in development, production, consulting......"
Men on the other hand, if they are physically attracted to a women, are not that concerned with her job. We'll just go , "Really? Slaughterhouse? Is that where you work? That sounds interesting. So, what do you have? A big knife And you just chop their heads right off? That sounds great. Listen why don't you shower up and we'll get some burgers and catch a movie."

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I love watching women put on their perfume. They're very careful. They have their little stratego areas. Places they think we're going. They always hit the inside of the wrists. Women are convinced that this is the most action-packed area that could ever happen. Why, ladies? What is happening there? Is this in case you slap the guy, he sill finds you intriguing?!
---SLAP---
He turns back, "Oh......Chanel."

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The proof that we don't understand death is we give dead people a pillow. I mean if you can't stretch out and get some solid rest at that point, I don't think there are any bedding accessories that can make the difference. But the suit and the pillow really shows how we have no idea what to get these people ready for. I mean, what situation are you going into with a suit and a pillow? There's no business nap meetings.

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I once had a leather jacket that got ruined in the rain. Now why does moisture ruin leather? Aren't cows outside a lot of the time?
When it's raining, do cows go up to the farmhouse, "Let us in! We're all wearing leather! Open the door! We're going to ruin the whole outfit here!"
"Is it suede?"
"I am suede! The whole thing is suede! I can't have this cleaned........It's all I got!"
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One of the most popular procedures today is the nose job. The technical term for the nose job is rhinoplasty. Rhino? I mean, do we really need to insult the person at this particular moment of their life? They know they have a big nose, that's why they're coming in. Do they really need the abuse of being compared to a rhinoceros on top of everything else?
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On my block, a lot of people walk their dogs and I always see them walking along with their little poop bags. This, to me, is the lowest activity in human life. Following a dog with a little scooper. Waiting for him to go so you can walk down the street with it in your bag. If aliens are watching this through telescopes, they're going to think the dogs are the leaders of the planet. If you see two life forms, one of them's making a poop, the other one's carrying it for him, who would you assume is in charge?

I say, if this is where we're at after 50,000 years of civilization, let's just give up. I'm serious, let's pack it in. It's not worth it. Let's just say the human race as an idea didn't quite work. It seemed good at first, we worked on it for a long time, but it just didn't pan out. We went to the Moon but still somehow wound up carrying little bags of dog doody around with us. We just got mixed up somewhere. Let's just give it over to the insects or whoever else is next in line.

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I love to go to sports events. Love, love, love sports. Anybody running around in an outfit with a stripe on it, I want to watch them do it.
Take boxing, the simplest, stupidest sport of all. It's almost as if these two guys are just desperate to compete with each other, but they couldn't think of a sport. So they said, "Why don't we just pound each other for forty-five minutes? Maybe someone will come watch that."

It's strange, two guys in shorts competing for a belt. They should award them slacks or a shirt.

The real problem it that you have two guys fighting who have no prior argument. They should have the boxers come into the ring in little cars, drive around a little bit, eventually there's an accident. They get out...

"Didn't you see my signal?"

"Look at that fender!"

Then you'd see a real fight.

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For men, the transplant is the procedure of choice. The hair plug is an interesting process. It's really quite amazing. Hair that was on your shower soap yesterday can be in your head tomorrow.
How did they do the first transplant? Did they have the guy take a shower, get his soap, rush it in to the hospital by helicopter, keep the soap alive on a soap-support system? Eventually they move it over, "We got the hairs, but... I think we lost the rest."

Sometimes a body rejects a vital-organ transplant. Is it possible that a head could reject a hair transplant? The guy's just standing around, suddenly "bink" -- it lands in someone's frozen yogurt.

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With any kind of physical test, I don't know what it is, I always seem to get competitive. Remember when you were in school and they'd do those hearing tests? And you'd really be listening hard, you know?
I wanted to do unbelievable on the hearing test. I wanted them to come over to me after and go, "We think you may have something close to super-hearing. What you heard was a cotton ball touching a piece of felt. We're sending the results to Washington, we'd like you to meet the President."

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Women approach clothes from a different angle altogether. The other day I was watching women in a department store looking at clothes, and I noticed women don't try on the clothes, they get behind the clothes. They take a dress off the rack and they hold it up against themselves. They can tell something from this. They stick one leg way out and kind of lean back. I guess they need to know, "If someday I'm one-legged at a forty-five-degree angle, what am I going to wear?"
You never see a man do that. You never see a guy take a suit off the rack, put his head behind the collar, and go, "What do you think about this suit? I think I'll get it. Put some shoes by the bottom of the pants, I want to make sure. Now what if I'm walking? Move the shoes, move the shoes, move the shoes."

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There's an entire industry of bad gifts. All those "executive" gifts, any stupid, goofy, brass wood thing, they put a piece of green felt on the bottom, "It's a golf-desk-tie-stress-organizer, Dad."
Nothing compares with the paperweight as a bad gift. To me, there's no better way than a paperweight to express to someone, "I refused to put any thought into this at all." And where are these people working that the papers are just blowing right off of their desks anyway? Is their office screwed to the back of a flatbed truck going down the highway or something? Are they typing up in the crow's nest of a clipper ship? What do you need a paperweight for? Where's the wind coming from?

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I believe the closest thing that we have to royalty in America are the people that get to ride in those little carts through the airport.

Don't you hate those things? They come out of nowhere. "Beep, beep. Cart people, look out, cart people!" We all scurry out of the way like worthless peasants. "Ooh, it's cart people. I hope we didn't slow you down. Wave to the cart people, Timmy. They're the best people in the world." If you're too fat, slow, and disoriented to get to your gate in time, you're not ready for air travel.

The other people I hate are the people that get onto the moving walkway and the just stand there. Like it's a ride. "Excuse me, there's no animated pirates or bears along the way here. Do your legs work at all?"

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I love those small airplane bathrooms. It's like your own little apartment on the plane. You go in, you close the door, the light comes right on. It's a little surprise party every time you go in.
And I love the sign in the airplane bathroom. "As a courtesy to the next passenger, please wipe off the counter with your towel." Well, let me earn my wings every day. Sorry, I forgot to bring my toilet-bowl brush with me. When did this Brotherhood of Passengers get started? "Did you lose your luggage? Here take mine. We're all passengers together. By the way, was that bathroom clean enough for you? I couldn't find the Comet or I would've had that crapper gleaming."

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I don't know why people always have the same reaction when they hear about a plane crash.
"Plane crash? What airline?"

"Where was it going?"

As if it makes difference, like you're going to go, "Oh that flight. Oh, OK, that I can understand." Like there's some planes that are expected to crash.

You go up to the ticket agent. "Excuse me, this flight generally goes down quite a bit, doesn't it?"

"Acutally it does, yes. We do have another flight, but it explodes on take-off. It is, however, a snack flight."

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People love to recommend their doctor to you. I don't know what they get out of it, but they really push them on you.
"Is he good?"

"He's the best. This guy's the best." There can't be this many "bests." Someone's graduating at the bottom of the classes. Where are these doctors? Is someone somewhere saying to their friend, "You should see my doctor, he's the worst. He's the absolute worst there is. Whatever you've got, it'll be worse after you see him. The man's an absolute butcher."

And whenever a friend refers a doctor they say, "Make sure that you tell him that you know me." Why? What's the difference? He's a doctor.

"Oh, you know Bob? Oh, okay, I'll give you the real medicine. Everybody else I'm giving Tic Tacs."

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There's a lot of shushing going on in movie theaters. People are always shushing. "Shhh, shh, shh, shhh." It doesn't work because nobody knows where a shush is comming from. They just hear, "shh." "Was that a shush? I think somebody shushed me. I think I just got shushed, but I don't know where it came from." Some people you can't shush in a movie theater. They're talking and talking, everyone around them is shushing them, and they want shush. No one can shush them. They're the "unshushables."

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What are lawyers really ? To me a lawyer is basically the person that knows the rules of the country. We're all throwing the dice, playing the game, moving our pieces around the board, but if there's a problem, the lawyer is the only person that has actually read the inside of the top of the box. I think probably the most fun thing a lawyer can do is say, "Objection". "Objection! Objection, Your Honor!" Objection, of course, is the adult version of " 'fraid not!" To which the judge can say two things. He can say, "Overruled", which is the adult version
of " 'fraid so". Or he can say "Sustained", which is the adult version of "Duh."

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Men seem to flip around the television more than woman. Men get their remote control in their hands, they don't even know what the hell they're not watching. You know we just keep going, "What are you watching?" "I don't care, I gotta keep going." "Who was that?" "I don't know what it was, doesn't matter, it's not your fault, I gotta keep going." "I think that's a documentary on your father." "Don't care, what else is on?"
Women don't do this. Women will stop and go, "Well let me see what the show is, before I change the channel. Maybe we can nurture it, work with it, help it grow into something." Men don't do that. Because women nest and men hunt. That's why we watch TV differently.

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For me, the best part of a relationship is when you're sick. And the best time to be sick is in a relationship. If I have to get married, you know all those vows, "For richer or for poorer, for better or for worse..." .
All I need is the sickness part. That to me is the most important one. "Do you take this man in sickness?" The rest of the time go out, have a ball, do whatever you want - but if I get the sniffles, you'd better be there.

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Dating is pressure and tension. What is a date really, but a job interview that lasts all night? The only difference between a date and a job interview is that in not many job interviews is there a chance you'll wind up naked at the end of it. "Well Bill, the boss thinks you're the man for the position. Why don't you strip down and meet some of the people you'll be working with?"

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I am getting a little tired of pretending I'm excited every time it's somebody's birthday. I mean really, at this point, what is the big deal? How many times do we have to celebrate that someone was born? Every year, every person, over and over? All you did was not die for twelve months. This is the big accomplishment?

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One thing I love about living in New York is it's every different type of person piled one on top of the other. I am for open immigration, but that sign we have in the front of the Statue of Liberty, "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses." Can't we just say, "Hey, the door's open. We'll take whoever you got." Do we have to specify "The wretched refuse?" Why not just say, "Give us the unhappy, the sad, the slow, the ugly, people that can't drive, people that have trouble merging, if they can't stay in their lane, if they don't signal, they can't parallel park, if they're sneezing, if they're stuffed up, if they have bad penmanship, don't return calls, if they have dandruff, food between their teeth, if they have bad credit, if they have no credit, missed a spot shaving... In other words, any dysfunctional, defective slob that you can somehow cattle prod onto a wagon, send them over. We want them."

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Can someone please tell me what is the deal with B.O.? Why do we need B.O.?
Everything in nature has a function, a purpose, except B.O.
Doesn't make any sense. Do something good - hard work, exercise-smell very bad. This is the way the human being is designed.You move, you stink.
Why don't our bodies help us? Why can't sweat smell good? Be a different world, wouldn't it? Instead of of putting your laundry in the hamper, you'd put it in a vase. Go down to the drugstore. pick up some odorant and perspirant. You'd have a dirty sweatsock hanging from the rearview miror of your car. And then on a really special night, maybe a little underwear coming out of your breast pocket, just to show her that she's important.

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Went out to dinner the other night, check came at the end of the meal as it always does. Never liked the check at the end of the meal system. Because money's a very different thing before and after you eat. Before you eat money has very little value. When you're hungry, you sit down in a restaurant, you're like the ruler of an empire. You don't care about cost. You want maximum food im minimum time. "More drinks, appetizers, quickly, quickly. Fried things in the shape of a stick or a ball. it will be the greatest meal of our lives." Then, after the meal, you've got the pants undone, napkins destroyed, cigarette butt in the mashed potatoes. You never want to see food again as long as you live. That's when the check comes. This is why people are always mystified by the check. "What is this? How could this be?" They start passing it around the table. "Does this look right to you? We're not hungry now, why are we buying all this food?"

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Hunger will make people do amazing things. I mean, the proof of that is cannibalism. What do they say? You know, they're eating... "This is good". Who is this? I like this person." I would think the hardest thing about being a cannibal is trying to get some really solid straight through the night sleep. You'd think with any little noise they'd go "What is it?... Who's that?... Who's there?... Is somebody there?... What do you want?... You look hungry. Are you hungry?... Get out of here."

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Men are obsessed with cleavage, women are obsesed with shoes. It's the exact same obsession. It doesn't matter how many times we've seen these things, every time these objects are presented to us, we have to look. We cannot not look. To men, Cleavage is like the nearest thing to a UFO landing nearby, that's what it is. To women, buying a pair of shoes that they really love is like boarding the alien ship. I think it's entirely possible that aliens have landed and they haven't been able to get our attention because we're so preoccupied with cleavage and shoes.

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The problem with talking is that nobody stops you from saying the wrong thing. I think life would be a lot better if it was like you're always making a movie. You mess up, somebody just walks on the set and stops the all shot. Think of the things you wish you could take back. You're out somewhere with people. "Boy, You look pregnent, are you?" "Cut,cut,cut, that's not going to work at all. Walk out the door, come back in, let's take this whole scene again. People, think about what you're saying."