Whether you're murdering a guy for holding your wife hostage or simply murdering that same guy's brother for no good reason, there will undoubtedly be a zany black stereotype who just can't wait to help you. If you're driving around Harlem and you need directions or a light, well you're screwed. But if you need someone to follow you around all day and help you blow up terrorists, there will be a line of eager, wacky black folks who want nothing more than to quit their jobs and help you while pointing out the subtle differences between black and white people.
Note: If you completely run out of black people, Justin Long is just as talkative and quirky, though significantly less zany.
Watching the Die Hard documentaries (Diecumentaries), one might think that all confidently saying "Yippee Ki Yay, Motherfucker" does is make you bulletproof-but that is, as advanced students will recognize, a gross understatement. It just happens that Professor McClane only uses the phrase when he's about to dive face-first into a tornado of bullets and accents, but don't let his sparing use of the ol' YKYMF fool you; its powers are almost limitless.
Truth be told, "Yippee Ki Yay, Motherfucker" has, without fail, helped us out in all of the following areas:
- Parking tickets
- Jury duty
- Heart surgery
- Out of toilet paper
- 12-page paper on postcolonial literature
- Wedding vows
Go ahead and try it out. There is not one problem you could possibly face whose solution isn't eight syllables of ass-kicking-American-cowboy awesomeness. "Yippee Ki Yay, Motherfucker" isn't just a tasty garnish for blowing up terrorists anymore.
Before we saw the Die Hard franchise, we thought alcohol was just something to get our moms through their pregnancies. Based on the Gospel according to McClane, however, we now know that you don't need assistance, shoes, a badge or even a reasonable excuse to blow up anyone or anything that (maybe) interferes with your God-given right to live free and/or die hard; you just need a socially degenerative drinking habit.
If these movies have taught us anything, (and this article pretty much lives and dies on the fact that they've taught us five things), it's that either binge-drinking or a hangover directly preceded 90 minutes of solid ass-kickery in every single movie. Step one: Drink. Step two: Save America.So, the next time you catch a coworker drinking on the job, don't report him to your boss, ya narc. Or, when you see a homeless man desperately sucking out the last few drops of someone else's discarded bottle of wine, don't shake your head disapprovingly. Or, when you see your dad hurling slurred insults at those "filthy, job-stealing Mexicants," do not rudely point out how you can completely understand why mom left. You thank them for their patriotism, and you get the hell out of their way .